A/N: It was my birthday this past weekend, so I was inspired to write a birthday fic for Sam. It's cheesy, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Set somewhere in the later seasons, but not too specific. Cheers!
–SPN–SPN–SPN–SPN–SPN-
Sam hated his birthday, with a passion. All manner of evil had happened to him and his brother on and around that date, so why on earth would he celebrate it?! He stopped celebrating it the minute he found out he had been resurrected at the cost of his brother's soul - that same soul that was dragged to hell one year later. On. His. Birthday. So no, you could take your birthday celebrations and shove them.
Amelia had tried to throw him a birthday party, first on his actual birthday, and then again on his half-birthday. She was sweet for trying, and he tried to be gracious, but both times he ended up leaving, unable to explain to her how tainted the dates were. He had not really thought about his half-birthday at all, until it was brought home to him that (of course) that was the day he had lost his Mom, and much later, Jess. Is everything in my life tainted? he wondered morosely, even as he tried to make things right with Amelia. She hadn't known…it had been so thoughtful…he appreciated the effort…sigh.
Dean knew all these things. Knew better than to even mention his sibling's birthday, or wish him "happy". He mentally did these things, sadly wishing it was within his power to turn back time and undo all the sorrow that had taken place on that day in May. He also knew that celebrating his half-birthday was out, knew all the landmines that November 2 triggered. As his brother once again surprised him with pie, a candle, and the latest skin mags from the drugstore in town for his own birthday, Dean knew he needed to find a way to celebrate Sam's life in a way that did not trigger all the trauma they had accrued. Easier said than done. It was not normally something he would even bother with, but he was beginning to realize (in his old age, ha ha) that Sam more often was berated than celebrated, and that taking time to remind his (still) little brother of his value - beyond his abilities, book smarts, and skill in a hunt - was an investment he needed to be willing to put a little effort into.
So he got to thinking through all the possible calendar dates, finding it sadly challenging to come up with a lot of dates that in their thirty-some-odd years didn't have negative memories attached. This might be harder than I thought…he mused. Closing his eyes as he lay on his bed, music thumping in his headphones, Dean tried to think through the happiest memories they had…times he knew Sam had enjoyed as much as he had. The song "Night Moves" came on, and his eyes opened with a snap. That trip - the road trip to the case that "might not be a case,"...complete with some backseat bootie for Sam, a late night quiet deep contemplative conversation in the car… Even with everything that followed when the "maybe nothing case" became a "completely legitimate and in-your-face case" - fighting the nasty 'ghoul-pires'...Dean smirked out loud at the memory. He still remembered them rolling away from that case, battered but strangely peaceful, and his brother's declaration of the Impala that "we ARE home." - suggesting that the car and his brother were all he needed for home. Dean's eyes glistened as he thought about it, though he would never admit such sentimentality. Yep, that would work. Now to give some thought as to what to do and how to do it right… Thankfully the date he circled on the calendar gave him several months to scheme. Sam wouldn't know what hit him.
Sam was grateful when his birthday came and went without notice. He appreciated Dean's willingness to yield to his wishes on the matter and just ignore the day and the horrible memories it dredged up. Instead the day was filled with hunting and research, and he fell into bed gratefully exhausted so the usual nightmares probably would not haunt him this night.
Life went on, and there was no thought of birthdays or anything else as they faced the latest baddies and hunted wherever they were needed. So it was no big surprise to Sam the morning after their latest hunt, that while packing up in a hotel room in Ohio Dean announced they had a new case
"What's the case?" he asked, even as he grabbed his laptop satchel, go bag already over his shoulder.
"I'll fill you in on the way." was the reply. Sam nodded, took one more cursory glance around the room for missed items, and then followed his brother out to the Impala. Pulling onto the freeway, Dean pointed the car east and sped down the highway, cranking the tunes and hoping he could put off having to share particulars until they were closer to their destination. Sam had not slept well, although he hadn't deemed to share that with Dean, so after watching his brother obliquely for a few minutes and determining for some reason he was not planning on being forthcoming regarding their next hunt, he decided giving him the third degree could wait until after a nap. Slouching down and bunching up his coat as a pillow, he closed his eyes and let the soothing road noises and car sounds that had been the soundtrack to his life lull him into sleep.
He awoke to quiet and semi-darkness, startling slightly at the abrupt change. Looking around wildly, he soon located his brother inside the gas station, chatting up the cute - and young! - clerk. Not worried, knowing Dean had no real interest in jailbait, he climbed out of the car and stretched his stiff limbs, then headed for the bathroom around the side of the building. Returning to the car he found Dean slouched against the trunk, smirking at him and munching on some road snacks. Tossing him a banana, he drawled, "Good evening sleeping beauty!"
"Bite me." was the rejoinder, but without heat. "How long - ? Where - ?"
"Six hours, dude. You were exhausted." Dean's voice contained laughter, but Sam could also hear the undercurrent of concern, "We're not too far from DC. Was planning on finding a place to land for the night before we hit the city proper."
"I can drive - "
"Nah, I'm rejuvenated." Dean smirked, climbing back into the driver's seat. Sam sighed, unsurprised, and resumed his usual spot. He let Dean navigate their way back onto the interstate, and then asked, "So tell me about this hunt."
"Soon," came the reply, "Just let's pull off somewhere for the night and find some real food first." Sam wrinkled his brow at that seemingly uncharacteristic reply, even while Dean held his breath waiting for the push-back. It didn't come though, just a nod of acquiescence. Huh, is he going to actually make this easy for me? Dean thought.
"You're hiding something." Sam declared after another few minutes of silence. So much for easy, Dean laughed internally.
"Maybe." he responded cryptically.
"Why?" Sam retorted sharply, sitting up and turning to face him. Crap, not what I meant. Think fast…
"Dude, I'm tired and hungry." he grouched, resorting to grumpiness to try to stall, "Can I at least be sitting at a table with food in front of me before I get the third degree?" Sam just stared, trying to read the underlying story, but finally huffed "fine" and turned away. Great, now I've got him riled up. Sighing to himself silently, Dean wondered, not for the first time, if what he was undertaking was going to land as he so desperately hoped it would. Oh well, he was in it now…
Pulling into the parking lot of a slightly upper scale hotel than they usually landed at, Dean studiously ignored the quizzical looks that Sam was darting his way. He simply popped into the lobby and checked them in, then when he returned to the car he casually stated, "got a room, but let's grab some food before checking it out, shall we?" Sam was hungry enough from his long nap and only a banana to not fight that, so Dean whipped them out of the parking lot and headed into town, looking like he knew exactly where he was headed. He pulled into a parking lot that was nearly full of cars in spite of clearly being a mom and pop establishment. Sam stared. He remembered this place. They had eaten here a lifetime ago, on their way to or from some hunt, and the food had been amazing. Looking over at Dean, he knew that he remembered it too, and was proudly smirking at that fact.
"Wow." Sam said, "I remember…"
"I know, right?" Dean grinned back at him. "The smell alone…ok, drooling. Let's go." They both hopped out of the car and strode into the diner, the smell of well cooked food assailing their senses as they entered. An indeterminate amount of time later they both sat back, rubbing their bellies and groaning as the waiter suggested dessert.
"We have a delicious carrot cake, or there's always our amazing cherry pie…" Dean groaned again. "We can pack it to go…" Sam openly laughed at the change in Dean's face with that statement, then looked up at their waiter and signaled they would take one of each to go. Dean grinned over at Sam, delighted at the idea of pie later, but even more so at the laughter that he had not heard in way too long.
"Ok Dean," said Sam, sitting up and focusing a laser eye across the table, all business again, "what's the case?"
Moment of truth… Dean stared back, but he must have waited too long, because he could see Sam starting to tense, as if preparing for bad news. "You." he blurted, watching him lean back, perplexed. He hurried to speak again, before Sam jumped to any wrong conclusions. "It's nothing bad, Sammy, I promise. I just…" He paused, but held up a hand as Sam opened his mouth to jump in. Sam waited, confused not only by Dean's words, but by the strange vibes he was getting off of him. It wasn't fear, or eagerness for the hunt, or anger, or…he seemed…unsure of himself. Well, that threw him for a loop! When was his big brother ever anything but confident - even when he wasn't he still portrayed that he was.
Dean finally figured out he just needed to come clean, and hope that Sam would go along with his plans. "Sammy, I wanted to celebrate your un-birthday." Of all the things to come out of Dean's mouth, that was probably as far out of left field as he could go - right up there with "I'm going to be celibate and stop drinking." Dean finally reached over and gently closed Sam's open mouth, laughing lightly as he did so. "I have a plan, if you'll go with me on it. I think…" again with the hesitancy in his voice, that made Sam want to acquiesce to anything to get rid of it, "I think we can both have some fun with it. Trust me?"
"Always." came the instant reply, earning another grin from Dean. He leaned back, his confidence reasserting itself. Their waitress returned with their dessert to go, and he cheerfully signed the bill (Chet Middleton, Esq.) and led the way back to the Impala. Sam was quiet, puzzling over what Dean had said, until they were pulling into the hotel parking lot and he was again noticing how much more upscale it was than their usual dives. He followed Dean into the crisp, clean room and just stood staring around, processing. Dean plunked his bag down on his usual bed - closest to the door - and then leaned back against the dresser, observing him.
"Why?" Sam finally said, eyes finding Dean's. Dean debating messing with him, but concluded that he really wanted this to work, which meant (unfortunately) a chick flick moment.
"You deserve it." he said. When Sam's brow wrinkled again, he continued. "Sam, you've been through all kinds of hell in your life - "
"We both have."
"Yeah, but how often do you get a chance to be celebrated? Your birthday obviously is ruined…"
"I don't deserve - "
"You DO." It came out more forceful and with more heat than Dean had intended, but his statement caused Sam's mouth to shut with a snap. "Sam, you do." he continued, softer. "You have weathered every storm life has thrown at you and have come out stronger for it, but rarely if ever been told how proud I…how grateful I…" he ground to a halt, his voice full of emotion he couldn't hide. He held Sam's gaze, willing him to understand what he was trying to say. I need you Sammy. I'm so proud of you. So grateful you have come through those storms intact. Let me do this for you. Please. He couldn't help but add a silent thank you for their close bond that allowed Sam to read all that and more in his gaze, as Sam nodded back at him, slightly overwhelmed and indicating he was willing to go along with things, even if he didn't fully agree.
Sam cleared his throat, dislodging the emotion that always sprung up in a mirror to his brother's. "So this room - "
"They boast of unlimited hot water and the comfiest beds in the region."
Sam couldn't help but grin at Dean. He didn't think he deserved this, but it was clear Dean needed to do it, so he might as well enjoy himself. "Dibs!" he called, even knowing as he heard the grumbled reply that he had gotten exactly what they both wanted. Grabbing a change of clothes and his toiletry bag, he headed to the bathroom, marveling at the size, the actual fluffy white towels, and shaking his head in bewilderment. Even after all these years, Dean could still surprise him.
Exiting the bathroom in a cloud of steam he announced, "Next!" only to pause and gaze his brother, who was out for the count spread-eagle on the bed, remote in hand but tv not even on yet. He smiled fondly, then set about removing Dean's boots and coat before tossing the comforter over him. "Good night big brother!" he whispered softly, flipping off the light and sliding into one of the most comfortable beds he'd slept on in who-knows how long. Maybe it was time to get a different mattress at the bunker… Lying in the dark, listening to his brother's soft, even breaths, he knew exactly why he had never fully settled into the bunker. Home to him had never been a place with walls. Home was his brother. At the bunker, they had their own rooms - for the first time in their lives - and it should have been wonderful, but he honestly missed having his brother close, knowing he could be there if nightmares struck or anything went bump in the night. It wasn't rational - most people preferred their own space, and the likelihood of something invading the bunker was so low…still.
"Y're thinking too loud. Sleep." Dean mumbled. Sam smiled contentedly, snuggled down in the covers more, and let himself drift off to sleep.
It was with some reluctance, after Dean tested the claim of 'unending hot water', that they returned the room keys the next morning and drove off, sipping at the gourmet flavored coffee and munching bagels and cream cheese from the breakfast buffet the motel had provided. Definitely a few steps up from the crappy coffee and lack of food their usual establishments provided.
It wasn't until they were on the outskirts of DC proper that Sam broke the comfortable silence that had filled the car. "Thanks," he said quietly. He knew Dean would get what he was conveying in that one simple word…not just the good food and comfy night's rest, but the fact that he cared enough to do that for Sam. Dean just nodded, keeping his eyes on the increasing traffic. "Where are we headed to now?"
"Wait and see." A small, pleased-with-himself smile followed that statement, and Sam realized that Dean had more up his sleeve than just what he had been surprised with last night. Smiling in return, he decided to play the role he had been given so many years ago. "I can't wait Dean! What is it? Are we there yet?" He even gave the seat a little bounce of excitement. Dean burst out laughing at Sam's antics, which made him grin broadly, pleased to have drawn a genuine laugh and basking in the sound. They needed more laughter in their lives, no doubt.
"Patience is a virtue." Dean gasped as he laughed.
"Not right now it isn't!" Sam rejoined, quoting one of their favorite cheesy movies (The Mummy).
"We so could have taken those mummies, and the other whacked-out people too."
"We've already agreed on this, Dean. TV monsters are dumb."
"Most of them. There's a few…" And they were off, discussing which of the many movie and tv monsters they thought were scary, and how they would kill them. Sam was distracted by the goofy argument and missed it when Dean turned into a parking garage.
"Where are we?" he asked, looking around for some clue or sign that would tell him where they had ended up. Dean again just smiled his mysterious smile and climbed out of the vehicle, leading the way to an elevator. When the doors opened on the main floor of the building, Sam's jaw dropped in shock, and Dean had to finally push him to leave the elevator before the doors closed again.
"Dean - " he whispered. "Are we at - "
"Izzy!" Dean exclaimed, which had Sam turning quickly to see a beautiful, slender long-haired brunette with gold-rimmed glasses that only accented her chocolate brown eyes hurrying towards them and pulling Dean into a hug.
"Dean! It's been so long! I was so happy to get your message!" At that they both turned to Sam, who was looking incredibly confused. Was this an outing, or a booty call, or ?
"Sam, meet Isabella Sanders. Izzy, this is my little brother Sam." Sam glared at Dean, even as he reached out to shake her hand.
"Isabella, so good to meet you." he said politely.
"Please, it's Izzy. I feel like I already know you from everything Dean has shared." His eyebrows went up at that, and his head swiveled to stare at Dean. Dean had the grace to look a little abashed, but recovered quickly.
"Izzy works here, Sam, and has agreed to give you a private tour."
"Here?" Sam was speechless for a moment. "A private tour? Of the Library of Congress?" Dean nodded.
"You work here?" Sam said to Izzy, still stunned.
"Yep!" she said, popping the 'p' and smiling.
"You got me a tour…"
"You'll have to forgive him Izzy, he's not usually this dense…" Dean snarked, then froze as he was pulled into a breath-stealing hug. He smiled then, knowing he'd made the right choice, and returned the hug, thumping Sam's back as they drew apart.
"The Library of Congress is the largest library in the world, with over - " Sam began breathlessly, his face expressing his dawning excitement.
"Whoa, geek boy. Save it for Izzy. I'll be back later. You two crazy kids behave now." Sam waved distractedly, already turning to converse animatedly with Izzy. Dean just watched them walk away, knowing he was already forgotten, and smiled at his brother's obvious happiness. Score one for big brother! He crowed internally. Turning around, he wandered back to the elevator bank, intending to head out and find something more his speed, but instead found himself hitting the button for the balcony that overlooks the reading room. Finding himself a secluded perch amongst the stacks, he watched Sam and Izzy wind their way around the space, pausing frequently to talk in obviously hushed tones about some interesting item or fact. He watched as Sam reverently ran his hands down the spine of several of the books, looking years younger in his eagerness, and felt a pang for the might-have-been. His brother would have made an amazing lawyer, and he could visualize him in this space, in a suit, researching tort reform or something equally stuffy. He frowned. This was supposed to be a happy day, and these maudlin thoughts had no place here. Shaking himself firmly, he decided he'd done enough stalking, and with a strong stride, took himself off for some more lively entertainment.
It was late - well past closing hours - when Sam finally emerged from the building, hugging Izzy tightly before she disappeared back into the bowels of the building. Swinging around, he spied Dean leaning against the stair railing casually, watching the evening foot traffic pass by and the sun slowly disappearing behind the Capitol building. As Sam slowed to a stop beside Dean, radiating contentment and happiness, he merely glanced over and said, "Wanna walk?" Falling into step, together they crossed to the road bordering the Capitol grounds, winding their way quietly through The National Mall. Reaching the Washington Monument they paused, awed, then continued on to the World War II Memorial, where they wandered reverently, considering the men and women who had sacrificed so much for the Nation. By silent consent they eventually moved on from there, following the reflecting pool to the Lincoln Memorial. Splitting up to wander through that amazing edifice, they found each other on the steps facing the water, where they munched on some street vendor fare Dean had snagged in the cooling air, shoulders just brushing. Sitting there together, Dean could feel the contentment oozing off Sam, and as a result he himself had a deep feeling of peace. It had always been this way - Sam's state of being directly affected his, for better or for worse. He smiled, glad he had made the decision to step out of his comfort zone to give this time to Sam. Sam cleared his throat, as if to start to thank him, so he bumped his shoulder to let him know it was unnecessary. Sam bumped back, but spoke anyway.
"I know you already know, but I still need to say it. Thank you." tipping his head to look at Dean earnestly, "This trip has been amazing. I feel like I can breathe. And after all the stuff life has thrown at us…"
Dean looked back at Sam, reading him like an open book, seeing the gratitude and love shining from his eyes. He just responded with a nod, knowing nothing else was needed, and made a mental note that he needed to come up with a new plan for next year's adventure. Doing this for Sam had loosened some of the tension he usually was wound tight with, and he knew now it was something they both had desperately needed.
"Did you know the Lincoln Memorial has 36 columns? One for every state in the union when he died…in fact - " Dean smiled and let his brother's words wash over him as he stared across the pool at the lights and monuments. For this moment in time, however brief, all was well with the world - and with his brother - and he would take it. Happy un-birthday Sam!