Disclaimer: Don't own SPN.
Author's Notes: The shortest chapter so far, but it's more of a filler. There'll probably be one or two more chapters till the end. Thanks for reading, don't forget to review!
Chapter 5: Rousing Suspicions
Over the next few days, Dean grew stronger and stronger. He was able to carry on full conversations with Sam without breaking into tears, and Sam felt that things were settling back into a routine. Routine is good. Routine is normal. It's what Dean needs. What I need.
The only issue that nagged Sam in the back of his mind was Bobby had left directly after his conversation with Dean; when Sam had returned to the motel, he was gone. When he asked Dean what they had spoken about that had made Bobby leave so quickly, Dean wouldn't respond. Sam didn't want to press the issue.
"Are you interested in a hunt?" Dean looked up from the bed where he was watching TV, surprised.
"A hunt?"
"Yeah," answered Sam. "I mean, now that things are settling back into relative normality, do you feel up to a job?" Dean shook his head violently.
"No."
"Okay, okay." Sam looked back down at the book he was leafing through but not really reading. A few silent minutes passed, and then he drew a deep breath and spoke up again. "It's just—how much longer are we going to stay here? How much longer is it gonna be until…" He trailed off. "Until you're back to normal?" Dean pressed down on the power button, flicking the TV off. He turned to face his brother.
"Sam, c'mon, man. I think I need a little more time than a few days." Sam nodded understandingly.
"Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I mean, I did pull you out of hell, I guess you'll need time to adjust…" He noticed Dean's jaw clench visibly as his brother pressed the power button a little too hard, and the TV turned back on. He said no more words on the subject.
Sam watched TV for a while with Dean, or at least that's what he wanted him to think. In actuality, Dean watched TV and Sam watched his brother.
Dean's head was growing heavy and tired, and before he knew it he was drifting off to sleep. He lay his head down on the most comfortable thing around, which so happened to be Sam's shoulder. The TV was still blaring some obnoxiously loud action movie with more explosions and gunshots than dialogue. Sam watched it for a bit, enjoying the comfortable silence and the warm weight of Dean's head on his shoulder. He tilted his head to rest against his brother's, sending up a silent, thankful prayer that Dean wasn't awake to witness or be embarrassed by this moment.
As the credits rolled, Sam realized that he would have to get some sleep at some point during the night, so he very gently removed Dean's head from his shoulder and laid it on the pillow, pulling the covers up around his brother. "Night, Dean," he whispered.
Dean woke up in the middle of the night, his heart pounding and beads of sweat dripping down his face. Sam awoke a few seconds after, hearing his brother's heavy breathing.
"Dean, you okay?"
"Fine, Sammy."
"Yeah, 'cause you sound awesome."
"It was just a dream, Sam, go back to sleep." Yeah, bet it was just a dream. It was just a dream like my visions were just nightmares. Sensing that there was no point in arguing, however, Sam rolled over and attempted to fall back asleep. But Dean was asleep long before him, and for the second time that night Sam found himself just watching his brother. He could tell something was wrong. Dean seemed like he had come back okay, but there was another thing that he couldn't quite pinpoint. He had a feeling that the dark magic, the resurrection, the secret conversation with Bobby, and now these nightmares…they couldn't amount to any good at all.
Dammit, Dean, why won't you tell me anything?