Disclaimer: Yep, still don't own them. Still have no money.
A lot of you were asking 'where is the comfort?!' So friends, I give you...comfort. At last. Comfort Winchester Style. Please drop a review and let me know if you enjoyed the story. Thank you so much for reading! This is now finished, so I'm off to work on Locking Horns.
"Okay," Sam said, taking a step closer, slowly, like Dean was a stray dog that he thought might bite. "Okay. I believe you. It's okay."
"What about our lives is okay?" Dean's eyes were wounded.
"No. No you're right about that. It's not okay... But it's okay to be confused... I don't know what the fuck we're doing either. But we're in this together, you know, like we've always been. Me and you." He offered a weak smile. "I got your back, man."
"I know you do, Sammy."
Sam seemed to be in full 'earnest mode' now. It was familiar and genuine, but it always made Dean feel a twinge of discomfort because it preceded awkward talks laced with feelings. Sam's bangs had fallen into his eyes, making him resemble a giant sheep dog. Dean swore that hair was going to swallow his brother whole someday. He often wondered if Sam kept it long as a silent fuck you to their father and his military training.
Dean turned and put a hand on Baby's sleek black exterior, grounding himself in the feel of her- solid, smooth. He could feel his brother's eyes on him. Boring into him. Studying him. Begging him to tell. Tell what? How could he even begin to vocalize the tangled web of thoughts and emotions that had been playing through his mind? What should he share with him? He sure as hell didn't want to share all of it.
"So let me in, dude. What's going on?"
"Can we just go? I'll tell you next time I plan on disappearing for hours."
He could hear Sam's boots on the dirt as he closed the gap between them. He was close now. So close. Sam craned his neck to catch Dean's eye. "Hey."
Dean looked away, jaw tight. Don't touch me. Don't touch me.
A second later Sam's large, warm hand was on his shoulder. "Hey," the words were patient. "Its okay."
"I didn't mean to be a dick. Just needed to clear my head. Baby is good for that."
"It's forgiven. It's fine. What's on your mind?"
What wasn't on his mind?
"I don't know why it's still bothering me, Sam." He stood staring at Baby's black roof.
A pause. "The demon?"
Dean nodded.
Sam snorted. "Look, I know it doesn't seem like anything in the long list of traumatizing shit we've been through - but Dean - that doesn't mean it's not a big deal." His hand drifted down to rest on Dean's shoulder blade. "You know the saying 'straw that broke the camel's back?'"
Dean nodded silently.
"Maybe this is your straw, you know?"
Damn, the kid was smart sometimes.
"I'm not a camel, Sam."
Another half - amused snort. "I know. You're an ass." Sam didn't remove his hand and it seemed like an anchor: at once grounding him and at the same time pulling him under. He was about to shrug it off when Sam instinctively moved it, rubbing a light circle over his mid-back. "I get it. There are things that bother me sometimes and I don't understand why."
Dean turned his head to look at him, his elbows still resting on the roof. "Like what?"
Sam removed his hand and leaned his back against Baby with a shrug. "I don't know. Random stupid things."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Sammy. Don't be a tease. Don't pretend I'm getting some and then change your mind."
Sam's teeth flashed in a smile and he shook his head. His gaze dropped to his boots. Dean looked back out over the hood. He didn't know why but somehow it always seemed easier to talk to Sam when they weren't facing each other. When he didn't have to look at Sam's expressions and wonder what his brother was thinking. When he didn't have to look at those prying eyes and see Sam feeling sorry for him as much as he felt sorry for himself.
"I've never been in that situation with a woman before - you know - where I was afraid of what she might do."
He saw Sam nod in his peripheral vision. "I've been tied up before. I know what that feels like."
"I have too, but this was different." Dean stopped, seemed to shift gears. "Hell," A wicked grin crossed his features. "I've been tied up by a woman before... didn't bother me one bit."
Sam's dimples flashed and he heard a bemused snort. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Foxy brunette- down near New Orleans - she had me trussed up so tight-"
"Dean, please ease up on images that will make me need brain bleach."
"I live to make you uncomfortable, Sammy." His tone was playful.
"I know you do," Sam replied.
There was another long pause while Dean felt the silence dragging the story out of him. "This was different though."
"Well yeah. It's not play. In the other scenario you're still in control. You're not helpless."
Oh you hate to be helpless. You hate it so much.
Dean felt his heart speed up. His mouth went dry. What the hell was he supposed to tell Sam? It still sounded so trivial even to himself. Nothing happened. Well next to nothing. Why had her words thrown him sideways so easily? Why had her touch set his skin crawling and simultaneously sent shivers of pleasure up his spine? What the fuck was wrong with him?
"Yeah I guess. I just..." He saw Sam turn marginally toward him. He knew Dean was having trouble telling him what he felt. Dean could sense it. He banged his fists ineffectually against the car roof. Not hard enough to dent- just hard enough for a hollow thud that punctuated his frustration. He pushed himself away from the car, shoulders rounded. Defeated. "I don't even know." He shoved his hands in his pockets and finally met Sam's eyes. "It can't stay this bad, can it Sammy?" He heard how pathetically child-like he sounded when he said it. He didn't clarify what he meant, he knew Sam would know.
"This won't stay this bad... no." Sam said comfortingly. "You just have to give yourself some time to process it and cut yourself a break... as for Dad... We'll find Dad."
Dean nodded. That was what he needed to hear. "I'm sorry I dragged you back into this."
"The fucking fire demon dragged me back into this Dean, not you." He locked gazes with his brother. "Don't you dare blame yourself for that. Don't you dare do that to yourself. If you hadn't been there to drag me out, I'd be dead." There was so much heat to Sam's words that they were almost angry.
Dean felt his eyes start to water. He cleared his throat. "Someone had to save your dumb ass."
Sam reached out and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Yeah," he squeezed hard before he let go. "Want to go grab some lunch and a beer?"
Dean smiled, relief flooding through him. "That sounds awesome."
They both settled into the car. Dean realized that his cut lip was starting to throb a little, he glanced at himself in the rear view mirror. He didn't look too worse for wear, happily. His hair was mussed. His lip a little swollen. That was it.
"Don't let your own mind drive you crazy, dude." Sam said.
"I got you to do that, Sasquatch."
Sam smiled at him and it was such an open, honest smile that Dean felt his heart twist with affection. That smile was such a rarity for Sam. It always had been. But it made him happy when he saw it, like a small slant of Sun on of February afternoon.
"Come on, Dean. Get it in gear. I'm hungry."
Dean responded to the playful tone with one of his own. "I so would have kicked your ass if you weren't taking secret wrist locking ninja classes in college."
Sam laughed. "That is exactly what it was called. Ninja 101. I heard there were 20 people enrolled in the class - but I never saw them."
Baby roared ahead in a spray of dirt and spinning tires.
Splits in his heart. Deep ones that went all the way through. Cracks in his smile - hairline. He could still hide those. Faults in the foundation - stress where the concrete would shift with the changing seasons. .. but deep in the structure - between the four walls- stood a support beam- steel, sturdy...holding strong, bracing with silent vigil. Sam Winchester. The structure could never fully collapse if he was there. The demon bitch didn't know about that.
Finis.