After a few hours and a couple of beers, Sam rubbed his eyes then shut down the lap top and sat staring at nothing, still desperately trying not to get hypnotized by the wallpaper. It looked what he thought a bad acid trip might be like. It was so quiet in the room without the fidgeting, the eating, the complaining, basically without his brother's presence. It had to have been a good couple of months since he'd last been left on his own.
He toyed with the idea of going out himself but could not summon up the will. He was too conscious of the swollen eye, so switching on the oldest television set in America, he stripped off and climbed into bed.
According to every channel on the TV, all three that had a descent reception and no pay per view porn, everyone was happy and in a loving relationship. Bullshit. The whole world was fucked up and so were most of the people in it and the ones that weren't were sure to meet someone or something that would fuck it up for them. He toyed with watching the porn then switched off the television and threw the remote across the room with a frustrated grunt.
Damn, he had either had one too many beers or not enough. He was just about to switch off the light and hopefully his mind when an urgent banging hit the door and a 'whispered' shout, "Sammy. Quick, let me in."
Annoyance and relief vied for dominance as he swung out of bed and opened the door to a half dressed Dean. "Don't ask!" his brother commanded as he pushed his way into the room throwing his boots and jeans to the floor.
"You know I've got to," hardly managing to keep the amusement from his voice, closing and relocking the door.
Dean straightened and faced him, his hand slashing to emphasize each word, "Wined. Dined. Bedroom. Husband. Big fucker. Window. Here," and held up a finger pointing at Sam, "No speak!" he instructed and turning on the spot and with as much dignity as he could muster, marched into the bathroom.
Getting back into bed, Sam felt much better, whether from the reassurance of his brother's presence or the amusement factor, he didn't know. "You'd better not be doing what I think you're doing in there?" he called mockingly.
"Dude. Have a heart!" came the pained reply and Sam just laughed the louder.
When Dean finally came back into the room, Sam was just sat up waiting, causing Dean to stop in his tracks. Then giving a small shake of the head, accompanied by that slight knowing smile, he climbed in beside his brother.
"What?" Sam was instantly annoyed.
"Nothing dear," and he gave Sam a quick peck on the check before turning his back and pulling the covers up to his ears. "Hey, keep to your side," Dean said as he got a kick for his troubles.
Sam smiled knowing Dean could not see it and it grew broader as he imagined the scene of him having to climb out of the window like in some farce on TV. He wondered how many times this had happened before and was about to ask but looking over, realised that once more Dean had gone to sleep almost instantly. Damn he hated that, mainly because he never could. He switched off the light and slid down in an attempt to sleep also.
Soon his eyes had adjusted to the dark, not that difficult as the 'no vacancy' sign shone right into their room. Just what was Dean's track record with women he wondered? Had he ever truly been in love, had he had his heart broken and if so how many times? How many had he met and thought 'this is the one'? They had never really spoken about this kind of thing, all their personal conversations had been about Dad. The only times they spoke about relationships, it had been flippant apart from when concerning Jess. There had been Cassie, he knew about her but that was it and even then Dean had been tight lipped about it all.
And just look at his own track record with women. Jessica with whom he had intended to spend the rest of his life was dead due to him and when finally meeting and finding and feeling for another women, he had been forced to kill her himself. That said it all. He had finally found a woman he cared for again and she was a lycanthrope. He was certain now that he had not just been bred and nurtured from afar by demons but he had been cursed and God help anyone he became emotionally attached to.
And yet, he thought, he was here lying next to another he loved, the only one he loved and whose time was already running out. 'Dead man snoring' he thought with gallows humour then berated himself for it. He reached out a hand to touch his brother gently, just to assure himself that Dean was still there, still warm, still breathing.
Maybe that was it, maybe that was why people mistook their relationship so often? He had lost everyone that he cared about, his Mom, Dad, Jessica and Madison and that just left Dean. And if he did not do something soon, if he could not find a way to break that damn deal his brother had gone and made, he would lose him too. The thought was crippling him. That was also due to him. It had all been due to him one way or another. Because as an infant he had been chosen.
So he was clinging on desperately, not wanting to let Dean go, to be without him and maybe that intensity of emotion was being read by others but being read wrongly because no one could possibly know what was happening between them, to them.
He just did not know, but Sam did know that he did indeed love his brother, loved him intensely. The man had agreed to go to Hell for him, literally. How could you not love someone who would willingly do that? Especially now they knew what would become of him.
Turning onto his side, Sam raised up, leaning on bent arm, to study Dean's face in the neon light seeping through the thin curtains. The sight made him ache inside. Dean looked so at peace, his whole face relaxed as he now lay on his back. Sam found his eyes drawn to the pendent he had never seen him without since he had given it to him at Christmas all those years ago. It brought a smile to his lips and once more he thought how much he loved this man.
Did other siblings care about each other as much as they did? Or did all the things they had seen, had been through, make theirs a special bond? He wished he knew of a way he could express to Dean just how much he needed him and just how much he had to find a way to prevent what was becoming increasingly inevitable. He always changed the subject or became angry whenever Sam mentioned it.
Damn! Why could Dean not have just left things as they had played out? Sure he was glad he wasn't still dead but the priceof bringing him back? It was way too much. Sam's life was just not worth his brother's soul!
He was seized with an overwhelming desire to do something, anything but was not clear as to what it should be. Glancing towards the window, it was still deep night but he was wide awake. He could get up and using the lamp, 'hit the books' he supposed, but he was warm and comforted by the strong solid presence so close beside him. So instead, he leant over and placed a heart aching kiss to Dean's forehead as he would never dare to do if he was awake. Then sinking down to the pillow, he ran the back of his bent fingers down the closest cheek causing Dean to stir slightly and resettle with his face turned to Sam and his body relaxing once more just a little closer.
As lightly as he could, Sam placed his right hand on Dean's bare shoulder and slowly let the weight lay, not wanting to awaken him and then he just watched his brother sleep. ---------------