Some serious emotions are in play now that Sam's plan has finally begun. We've seen a little bit of progress, but Dean still has a ways to go. A little shorter this time, but hopefully just as satisfying.
The following morning, as the sun shone dimly into the room, Sam blinked awake to the still-warm feeling of his brother against his side. It was the first time in well, ever, that Sam had woken to his brother's naked body. Since their relationship had begun, Dean had either worn clothes to bed or gotten up long before Sam first opened his eyes. And really, why hadn't Sam noticed that before? Sam smiled and pressed gently on his brother's back, tugging the lean, muscled body tighter against his chest.
For just a little while longer, Sam hoped Dean would remain asleep. He wanted to enjoy the moment and definitely didn't mind pushing off the start of their day. Running his fingers lightly over Dean's shoulder blade, Sam fantasized about the day where there were no barriers between them, where Dean's lack of self-esteem no longer haunted their relationship. Sam hated the shadows that darkened Dean's eyes and he whispered a prayer that his words would break through.
As the sun rose gradually higher in the sky, Sam noticed the small movements that told him Dean would be awake soon. He held his breath as Dean nuzzled his face into his shoulder, too nervous to risk startling his brother and possibly scaring him away. Fingers fluttered against his side and then Dean's breathing changed and Sam knew he was awake. Seeming to freeze mid-breath, Dean was suddenly just as still as Sam, likely noticing his nakedness and recalling the previous night's events.
Dean rolled away and pushed himself up, snatching up clothes and moving immediately to shut himself away in the bathroom, his eyes never lifting past the floor. Sam let him go. He knew Dean would need time to process everything he'd been told last night. Sam also knew his brother would try to ignore it ever happened. For now, Sam would let him be, give him time to think things through, to gather himself, but he wouldn't let Dean avoid it altogether.
After over a half an hour, where Sam was almost sure Dean had locked himself in with the intention of never coming back out, Dean threw the bathroom door open and strolled out in a cloud of steam. He came out dressed in a blue Henley and jeans, scrubbing a towel over his hair. "Come on and get ready Sam. I wanna be out of here soon." He still wasn't meeting Sam's eyes.
"How about we stick around a couple days, Dean. There's a couple things we could do in the area and we don't have a new case lined up yet." Sam was crossing his fingers that Dean would agree. If he didn't, Sam was going to have to repurchase the other half of his materials for his plan to get through to Dean and hope that his brother didn't notice.
Still with his back to Sam, Dean nodded. "Yeah, sure Sam. I'm gonna go get food." He lifted his keys off the dresser and headed to the door, walking out without ever even looking Sam's way.
Sam forced a deep breath. He had known going into this that it wouldn't be easy – telling his brother things he didn't want to hear never was. He just hadn't been prepared for the guilt and the uncertainty. Trying to brush off the worry with a shake of his head, Sam headed in for his own shower.
Over the next two days, Sam and Dean kept their activities pretty separate. Dean didn't tell Sam "no" outright, but Sam knew his brother well enough to know when he was being brushed off. His brother disappeared from morning until the late afternoon, at which point he would fall into the couch in front of the TV and stay there until it was late enough to go to a bar.
Sam spent that time trying to ignore his worry, immersing himself in the local shops, and eating at the town diner by himself. As much as he tried to reign in the hurt and the fear for his brother, Sam knew he wasn't doing a good job. Dean was still avoiding his eyes when they were together and seemed to refuse any contact between them. He'd even "fallen asleep on the couch" as he'd explained it, Sam assumed to avoid being in bed together.
The third day after it happened followed nearly the same pattern, and for the third night in a row, Dean went out without him. Sam sprawled out on the bed with a book he'd been meaning to get to for the last couple months, a beer in hand. He was just getting to the height of the action, when Dean came barreling through the door, his body clumsy with alcohol, eyes squinted against the uneven lighting from the one lamp by the bed. Immediately, Sam set his beer on the nightstand and shoved a scrap of paper into his book to hold his place, shoving it to the side and standing, hands out to steady his brother if needed.
Dean darted to the side, or tried to dart. Really, he moved too quickly and his feet tangled, sending him crashing into the door behind him. Sam leaned forward to help, but Dean pulled away. "Don't," he ordered. Sam froze and stepped back, sighing inaudibly.
Eyes suddenly wide, Dean looked directly at Sam for the first time in three days. "Why'd you do it Sammy? Huh? Why'd you have to say all that and change everything?" His voice was at least an octave too high, words both angry and confused.
Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Sam just stared at his brother, his broken lover. His lips pressed into a line and he took another step backwards, dropping down onto the mattress. Dean's eyes seemed to glow in the off lighting of the room, skin cast in shadows. So beautiful. And so damn oblivious.
Forcing a swallow, Sam tried to speak. "Because you're beautiful Dean, inside and out, and you deserve to hear it, to know it."
"I'm not." Dean shook his head. "I'm not."
"That – that right there – that's why I had to tell you Dean. 'Cause you don't see it. I told you all this the other night." Sam didn't want to be frustrated with his brother. He really didn't – but he was quickly realizing that his brother might be more stubborn than Sam knew how to handle. There were only so many ways Sam could tell Dean the same thing before they both wanted to punch him.
Dean looked away from Sam, but not before Sam saw his lips tremble. "C'mere, Dean," Sam whispered. After a few long seconds where it seemed like he wouldn't respond, Dean walked, more stumbled, to the bed, crawling up onto the mattress and curling up behind Sam where he was seated on the edge.
Turning so his right leg was tucked under his body, Sam faced Dean. His older brother was on his side, face pressed into the comforter, fingers bunched in the fabric, eyelashes clumped wetly on his cheeks. Sam reached out and stroked his fingers through Dean's hair, continuing the motion when Dean released a long breath and seemed to settle under his hand. With Dean's reaction the other night and how he was acting now, Sam was realizing that this experience for his brother was a lot more emotional than he had originally thought. He'd never seen Dean cry so much, but as much as it broke his heart, Sam would be grateful if it meant the walls were breaking.
For a long time, Sam stroked his fingers through Dean's hair, brushed the hair off his forehead, and thumbed away the few tears that escaped and streaked down his cheeks. Eventually, Sam pulled his whole body onto the bed and lay down beside his brother, leaving a little bit of space between them. "I love you Dean," he whispered, returning his hand to Dean's nape and starting the motion again.
Dean closed his eyes, breathing deeply, almost seeming to inhale the words. "Love you too Sammy." His whispered words were nearly inaudible. Moving abruptly, Dean tucked himself against Sam's side, face hidden, as the dam on his tongue seemed to break. "You're right you know. I don't see what you do. I don't see any of it. What I see is a guy trying to do his best with the shit life handed to him. I see a guy who saves a few people, but fails more often than not, who makes a mess of things, and hurts the people he loves. I see an asshole who doesn't know how to treat people, and who can't see past the faults staring him in the face."
Sam listened and kissed the top of Dean's head. "Everything you just described is what makes people human, Dean. Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes people get hurt, but that's how life works."
"When other people make mistakes, people don't usually die as a result."
"Yeah, and most people don't have the pressure we do, Dean. Every hunter knows the risks of the job. You have to learn to see the good you do De'. You've helped so many people. How does that get past you, huh?" Sam rubbed Dean's back, kissing his head again. Dean just shook his head against Sam's neck. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I know…Can you promise me to try?"
After a long few seconds of silence, Dean nodded. "I promise." A puff of hot air covered Sam's throat. "Sammy? ...What if I can't do it?"
"Just try, Dean," Sam whispered, corners of his lips turning up in a small smile.
AN: Tensions are high, but Sam seems to be getting through. Final chapter will be posted soon to finish out Sam's plan. Let me know what you think so far :)