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A Moment with My Brother.

Galactic Green

"How's he doing?"

Sam's been on the supply run and is loaded down with bags. Groceries mainly, heavy on the 'heat and serve' end of the domestic goddess scale cause Dean's not up to cooking for us at the moment and boy are we all feeling the loss, and dressings and pills and potions for us to administer if we can pursude our reluctant patient that it's in his best interest.

Yeah, I know. Good luck to us, the collective us, on that one. Cause Dean is anything but the perfect patient. He'll rarely cooperate for Sam...I think it's something genetic or maybe it's a boy:boy thing? Ya know, testosterone and machismo?

Although he will sometimes submit and pop a pain med for Cas and Cas is a boy? Well, ex-celestial being in a male vessel...now turned human...type of boy? And even for Cas, he'll only take them if he thinks no one's watching.

And as to his dressings? Well all I'll say is the meds are a doddle compaired to getting his bandages changed. Usually Dean far prefers to pretend he doesn't have need of them at all or failing that he'd just have everyone believe he can 'do it himself'.

How, I ask you with his right hand all torn up and his opposite shoulder only just nicely popped back into place, I'm sure I don't know, but to Dean it's all irrelevant cause he just don't want to be danm well 'fussed at'.

He lets me do them though cause I have worked out just how to handle him.

If I'm matter of fact and quietly insistent about it and I give him my red-headed, little-sis, stink-eye look that says 'be difficult, Winchester and I will hurt you!'. Yeah, that usually does it.

So anyway, Sam plops the shopping down all over the floor and goes to peep at our 'sleeping beauty' where he's tucked up at one end (Cas is at the other, feet curled up under him reading Watership Down...What? He likes rabbits...) of the ridiculously long couch that occupies one whole wall of the bunker's lounge. How they ever got that thing down the stairs has me beat...or maybe they just built it in the lounge? I don't think they had Ikea flat pack back then though?

Anyhow, as I said, Dean's tucked up all sleepy and cosy under his favorite tartan throw, shoulder nestled in his sling (eh god's the sweat I worked up getting him to put that on) and his bandaged hand propped on a small stack of pillows.

And he looks a little pale, but for a guy who took down most of a flitter of faeries (okay okay I know it's technically a macra sidhe but flitter suits them so much better...well except I suppose when they're beating the crap outta ya!). Anyway, he's more or less alright.

Oh he's sore and bruised and there's his hand...and the shoulder...but other than that he's doing pretty well.

And Sam can see that. I know cause he agreed to go on the provisions run and he'd never leave Dean, not even with Cas and I here if he thought he was real bad. But all the same he checks his brother over carefully and we let him.

"Charlie?"

Sam keeps it quiet and Dean snuffles but doesn't really stir.

"Yeah?"

I whisper back and Sam points to Deans's bare feet where they lie on the couch, sticking out from his blankie.

"Why is Dean wearing toe-nail polish?"

Sam's face is a bewitching mixture of utter bemusement mixed with a just a soupcon of pure horror and I can't help but smile at how it animates his face. I'm tempted not to explain simply cause the confused puppy look is so adorable on him but it wouldn't be fair, he is my little-big brother when all's said and done.

"Well, Dean woke up while you we're off and I pursuaded him to let me re-dress his hand..."

I glance at Sam where he's settled on the cushion next to Dean's feet. He looks at me but I can see it's not making sense for him yet so I press on.

"And after that I encouraged him into his sling..."

I gesture at the functional, dark blue, cotton and velco device that Dean hates with a passion cause it, and I quote, 'trusses him up like a Christmas Turkey' and Sam follows my line of sight and nods.

"Okay, well done on all that..."

Sam smiles and I preen a little.

"But...I'm not seeing where the toe nail polish comes in?"

Oh well yeah, I guess it is still a few 'degrees of Kevin Bacon' away isn't it? So I jump back in with a few more clues.

"So after all that, he was hurting. Said his neck's stiff from the sling and his shoulder was sore and so I offered to run the Bradbury magic massage fingers over him but when I tried, well his neck hurt too much to really get to the problem and he was just so damn tense anyway..."

Sam nods some more...and bless him he's trying to understand but it's still slipping from him like quicksilver off'n a propecters pan.

"So...seeing as his top end hurt so much..."

I make an over the top, theatrical swoop with my eyes from Dean's head to his little pink toes, taking Sam's amber gaze right along with me.

"I worked the magic fingers...magic on his feet!"

Understanding dawns happily for the younger Winchester (college smarts aren't always all they're cracked up to be) and he smiles.

"Oh, I get it. So you gave him a foot-rub to relax him?"

I break into a little spontaneous clap for him and Dean stirs a little, wriggling contentedly and stretching his curled legs out so the flat of his feet press against Cas's thigh but the ex-angel is irremovable from his lapine quest and he mearly drops one hand, distractedly, to rest on Dean's shin as he carries on reading.

"Yeah, 'xactly."

I confirm and Sam nods, satisfied that he understands...for about 5 seconds...then his face darkens, the puppy-gog returns and he sighs.

"So...then...he asked you to...paint his toe-nails?"

That get's Castiel's attention, (I knew he was liteneing, despite Hazel and Fiver's cotton-tailed conundrums. You know, now I think about it there are some interesting parallel's between the dilemas of the bunny's and the boys...oh but that's for another time!) and he snorts derisively, looking up for his tattered novel.

"Well...not exactly asked, Sam."

He grins and looks at me, and Sam follows him to me in even deeper bemusement.

I roll my eyes. Gee, you really do have to spell it out simple sometimes.

"So...my magic finger foot rub sent him off to happy bo-bo-land...all snuggled up like you see under his blankie with his tootsies a-stickin out."

Cas widens his eyes, as do I and Sam nods in urgent verification. Yup, he's on board the bus so far, now to just cling him on for the full ride.

"And Cas was reading..."

Cas holds up his beloved bunny book and Sam gives him a thumbs up.

"So I figured I'd kill the time till you got home by doing my nails."

I wiggle my beautifully manicured finger at Sam and he nods appreciatively at my cobalt blue with fine, fillegree MoL symbols in white.

"Nice."

He confirms and I glow a little. Well it takes a steady hand to do such intricate work. Not everyone can be an 'onycho-artiste' you know?

"And so Dean..?"

Sam's bemused face is back and he looks from me to Cas and back to me.

"And so the bottles of polish were right there in my special little, 'every bottle in it's correct spectrum-hued' place case and..."

"Galactic green."

Cas buts in, says it like it explains everything. You know with that head canted to one side, 'i'm otherworldly', terrible cute look on his face and I know Sam's trying but he really has no freaking idea where we are going with this...so I help him out.

"So Cas picked out the galactic green and...Dean's toes were just sitting there..."

'And I've never, ever painted a nail before...finger or toe..."

Cas tells Sam earnestly and Sam, blows out a resigned breath.

"Neither have I."

Sam stutters in sorta-shock but time moves on and somehow they bond silently for a moment before Cas continues, his hand now wrapped casually around Dean's foot.

"So I thought I'd have a go."

Sam stares briefly at Dean's toes again and a look of 'well sure, I can see that' flits onto his not-unhappy face.

"Why galactic green?"

Is the unlikely but if you follow the perhaps slightly abstract train of thought from Sam and Cas thinks for less than a nano-second before coming out with his perfectly logical response.

"It matches his eyes."

The ex-angel says, simply and we all share a little 'mmmm' sort of moment bafore Sam, seemingly satisfied, rises and scoops the groceries up in his gigantic hands and heads to the kitchen.

And he pauses at the door, turning to look back at us, a devilishly wicked smile having replaced the innocent puppy-dog.

"I am so gonna enjoy you explaining that again when he wakes up."

ends

End note.

Yes, my toe-nails are currently Galactic Green and I wouldn't have minded a bit if Cas...or Dean...or Sam...or Charlie had offered to paint 'em for me!