Sam hadn't heard the sound of the TARDIS. He had been too wrapped up in other matters.

Specifically, Ruby.

Sam honestly didn't know what he would have done without Ruby, though there was always that voice of doubt in the back of his mind pointing out that if his dad was there, if Dean was there, they would have warned him away from her.

But Dean was dead. Dad was dead. So Sam wasn't exactly inclined to listen to even the memory of their disapproval.

It wouldn't have been the first time that Sam ventured off the straight and narrow path that his father and brother seemed so determined to lay out for him. Going to college had been a fight. Quitting hunting had been a fight. Now, lying in bed with Ruby, he was sure that this would have been a fight too.

Maybe that was part of the reason he stayed with her. Maybe there was more to it than the comfort she gave him and the way she helped him to hone his powers when everyone else before her had insisted that he do things their way, that he ignore what he was. Maybe there was a part of him that felt those reminders of Dean's and Dad's disapproval and reveled in remembering them at all.

And then on the other hand, maybe with both of them gone, a weight had been lifted from Sam's shoulders. Suddenly, he didn't have anyone telling him what he should do, what he should be. He had spent one year with Dean trying to save him, trying to give him the best last year of his life that he could, but now? Now, his identity wasn't swallowed up in his brother. Now, he had tried everything and couldn't undo what had been done. So what was stopping him from making his own choices about how to move on with his life?

It helped that Ruby let him mourn in a way that he hadn't been allowed to do before. Lately, it seemed like one loss had been stacked on top of another until he could hardly breathe, but Ruby let him get lost in that feeling. She didn't try to drown it out with another hunt; she let him get lost in her instead.

It was a terrible decision. A selfish decision. And he knew it. But he was so tired of doing the right thing all the time, and it was nice to let go.

So, no, Sam hadn't been thinking about much of anything outside of Ruby when the TARDIS landed not far from where the two of them were wrapped up in each other. And even if he had heard the TARDIS, he probably would have actively ignored the sound. He didn't want to get caught up in anything to do with the Doctor, not when the guy had allowed his brother to die without even trying to save him.

Which meant that there was no possible way Sam was prepared to open the door to his room at a knock—and to see his brother standing there.

The bottom dropped out of Sam's stomach.

Dean.

He couldn't do or say anything for what felt like an eternity as he stood there, frozen in the door. The last time he had seen his brother, Dean had been broken and bloody and dead. And now, here he was, standing there whole and alive and—Sam didn't even know how to begin to process this.

And then, before he could get his feet underneath him, Ruby cut in with an excuse about pizza and a jab that had Dean smirking and thinking Sam had called her by the wrong name. He hated when she did that, but he also loved when she did that.

And he appreciated that Ruby didn't immediately bust him to Dean when he'd just gotten his brother back. He didn't know what this was or how long Dean would be back or if this was just another cruel prank like the one the Trickster had played on them before, but he didn't want to have the Ruby fight when he had much better things to do.

Like trying to figure out how this was even possible.

Sam kept staring at his brother. And the thing was, Dean didn't look like he was faring much better at all. Sam kept catching him looking at Sam like he was trying to drink in every moment, and that, finally, was what brought him out of his stupor.

After all, the last time he'd seen his brother look like that, Dean had been gearing up to tell Sam goodbye. And Sam wasn't interested in any long goodbyes. He wasn't interested in any goodbyes. He was done getting hurt. That was the whole point of everything he was doing with Ruby: he didn't want to be kicked around anymore.

And around the same time Sam finally got his feet back underneath him, he realized that Dean was accusing him of masterminding some convoluted scheme to save him, and that was when he broke form and snapped.

Dean had no idea what he had been through. No one would bargain with him. No one would let him swap places. No one would give him anything. And if Dean thought differently, he didn't know what Sam had been through in the last months.

When he'd laid it all out on the table, Dean blinked at him and then shook his head, looking suddenly tired. "We've got to figure this out, Sammy."

"Do we?" Sam shot back. "I mean, you're back, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but—"

"That's all that matters to me."

Dean fell silent. He obviously didn't know what to say—but then again, they had never been good at this part. At knowing how to navigate how much they both needed each other. Dean especially. But then, finally, Dean cleared his throat. "You remember River Song?"

Sam narrowed his eyes before he did, finally, place the name—and then his eyes narrowed further. "You mean the Doctor actually stepped up after all that fighting?"

"No, I don't think it was him," Dean said, frowning. "Though he did give me a lift."

"Of course. Because why would he do anything useful," Sam said dryly.

Dean rolled his eyes at that but didn't pick up the fight. "Point is, River knew where I was gonna be when I crawled out of that grave, Sammy. I think she knew what got me out—and she took me out drinking like she was bucking me up before a big fight."

"But she didn't tell you what it was," Sam surmised.

"No."

"Of course not."

"Hey, you've seen the same movies I have. Laws of time travel and all—"

"I really don't want to hear it," Sam cut in before Dean could get going. He loved his brother, and he knew that Dean could quote pretty much every cult scifi movie by heart, but he was still reeling, and he still wanted to be sure that whatever had brought his brother back wasn't going to tear them apart all over again. He couldn't take that. He really couldn't.

But if Dean could tell Sam was still wrapping his head around everything, he didn't actually point that out. What he did instead was smirk, put his arm around Sam's shoulders, and say, "So, how about we grab the food you and whatsername were going to have…"

Sam let out a laugh of disbelief and then brushed Dean's hand off his shoulder. "Shut up."