How it Goes- part 2 (Addendum)
Author’s Notes: I didn’t exactly plan on another part to this story, but I think the first one ended up a bit more bleak than even I could stand. So here’s some more educated guessing from spoilers on Sam’s mental state and Cas’s return with maybe a bit more hope.
Summary: Dean begrudgingly accepts an unexpected return while he watches over his broken little brother.
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How it Goes- Addendum
“Sammy…” Dean’s voice broke and he coughed, trying to play it off. He couldn’t act as lost as he felt in front of Sam, it only seemed to make him worse, send him further into his head and away from Dean. So Sam continued trying to press himself ever farther into the corner of the too-small room and Dean tried to coax him out, or at least calm him down. Any longer and a torrent of nurses would rush in to sedate him which would lead to Dean trying to fight them off, which would lead to Dean being temporarily banned again and he couldn’t tolerate that. It was bad enough Sam was here. Not being able to see him would drive them both right over the ever encroaching edge.
So he took a minute to collect himself, settling in front of Sam and not speaking. This provided an opening for another voice to enter.
“Can…can I help?”
An immediate flash of dread and ever present anger spiked through Dean. Castiel stood just inside the doorway looking nervous and contrite.
“Get out.” Dean managed. “Get the hell out.”
Dean didn’t want to bring him here again. It was the last thing he wanted. But Cas was pretty much defenseless as he was, and dangerous to the general public, really. The amnesiac angel still had all his powers and none of the sense he’d once had of how to use them.
The first time Dean had been forced to bring the angel here, Sam had screamed, screamed like he was dying. He had clawed at his eyes like they were burning out of his head and Dean had yelled and threatened and literally thrown Cas out, punching him for good measure.
The way Sam was now, he could see Cas. Really see him in his true form; couldn’t help but see him that way, actually. And the way Cas was just those few weeks ago, he didn’t know how to control his grace, how to dampen it so it didn’t hurt Sam. Even the angel’s voice at the time had been too much for the younger Winchester to handle.
Thankfully, in the time between then and now, Cas had regained some control and this time Sam only flinched a bit at the soft words.
Cas looked torn between leaving as Dean ordered and not being able to tear himself away. Even though his memories were spotty and still fragmented, he felt he should be here. He felt responsible for these two brothers; this small family that he could never get between, but could remember being happy just to be a part of. The angel fidgeted awkwardly.
“I just…I only want to help…”
There was about to be a repeat performance of Dean’s hurting hand and Cas’s unharmed face when Sam made more distressed sounds, more acute, and all Dean’s attention was back on his brother. Sam was scratching at his face again with carefully close-clipped nails. Dean reached out with practiced, infinite patience to carefully pull Sam’s hands away before he could gouge deeper into his skin.
“Hey, hey, stop. Stop, Sammy. Shh…It’s okay, Sammy. It’s okay. You gotta calm down, alright?”
Sam twisted miserably, his wrists trapped by one of Dean’s hands. With his other hand, Dean reached up to brush Sam’s forehead. Sam reacted badly to touch, well, to everyone’s except Dean’s. It was one of the reasons Dean had been able to convince the nursing staff to let him in whenever he damn well wanted to be there, which was more often than not. After a moment, Sam stopped struggling quite as hard and didn’t lean away from his brother. Dean sighed in relief, releasing Sam’s hands and running fingers through Sam’s soft hair, forcing a strained smile.
“This is my fault.”
Dean didn’t look at Cas, didn’t stop brushing back Sam’s hair. He didn’t ask how the angel had known that, when he had remembered, or what exactly it was that he recalled. He didn’t really care.
“Yeah, it is.”
It wasn’t entirely. Cas had only brought down something that was bound to fall in time anyway, but he had done it on purpose. He had done it just to stall them. He had robbed Dean of whatever time he had left with his sibling and that was a hurt that would never truly heal.
“I’m sorry.” The angel whispered brokenly, almost sounding close to tears. He would hardly even look at Sam and Dean was just fine with that. He didn’t have the right to see the destruction he’d caused to their family, to someone who’d faced the devil and won. “I’m sorry…”
Dean just kept trying to soothe Sam. He was calming down, one bone-thin hand now wrapped around Dean’s wrist while the other kept tugging at his hair.
After awhile, Sam moved the hand in his hair down to the tile floor, scratching his way across. Dean went to take hold of him, but Sam kept reaching out, kept reaching toward Cas.
Stunned, Cas looked at an equally shocked Dean. Slowly, heart in his throat, he began approaching Sam, a tense Dean scrutinizing his every move.
He crouched down next to Sam as far away as he could while still being able to reach out. Slowly, he wound his fingers around Sam’s and the other let him. Cas’s voice was soft in wonder.
“…Sam?”
Sam made a slightly pained sound in the back of his throat, but didn’t let go.
One hand on Dean’s wrist and one tangled with Cas, Sam sighed, some tension leaving his frame. Dean and Cas exchanged disbelieving, somewhat tearful expressions, but neither moved, neither let go. They clung tighter.
They didn’t reach out for each other, that reconciliation was still somewhere in the future; past recovered memories, apologies, and release papers. But they were bound by Sam, content in the close circle that threatened to feel something like home.
Summary: Dean begrudgingly accepts an unexpected return while he watches over his broken little brother.
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How it Goes- Addendum
“Sammy…” Dean’s voice broke and he coughed, trying to play it off. He couldn’t act as lost as he felt in front of Sam, it only seemed to make him worse, send him further into his head and away from Dean. So Sam continued trying to press himself ever farther into the corner of the too-small room and Dean tried to coax him out, or at least calm him down. Any longer and a torrent of nurses would rush in to sedate him which would lead to Dean trying to fight them off, which would lead to Dean being temporarily banned again and he couldn’t tolerate that. It was bad enough Sam was here. Not being able to see him would drive them both right over the ever encroaching edge.
So he took a minute to collect himself, settling in front of Sam and not speaking. This provided an opening for another voice to enter.
“Can…can I help?”
An immediate flash of dread and ever present anger spiked through Dean. Castiel stood just inside the doorway looking nervous and contrite.
“Get out.” Dean managed. “Get the hell out.”
Dean didn’t want to bring him here again. It was the last thing he wanted. But Cas was pretty much defenseless as he was, and dangerous to the general public, really. The amnesiac angel still had all his powers and none of the sense he’d once had of how to use them.
The first time Dean had been forced to bring the angel here, Sam had screamed, screamed like he was dying. He had clawed at his eyes like they were burning out of his head and Dean had yelled and threatened and literally thrown Cas out, punching him for good measure.
The way Sam was now, he could see Cas. Really see him in his true form; couldn’t help but see him that way, actually. And the way Cas was just those few weeks ago, he didn’t know how to control his grace, how to dampen it so it didn’t hurt Sam. Even the angel’s voice at the time had been too much for the younger Winchester to handle.
Thankfully, in the time between then and now, Cas had regained some control and this time Sam only flinched a bit at the soft words.
Cas looked torn between leaving as Dean ordered and not being able to tear himself away. Even though his memories were spotty and still fragmented, he felt he should be here. He felt responsible for these two brothers; this small family that he could never get between, but could remember being happy just to be a part of. The angel fidgeted awkwardly.
“I just…I only want to help…”
There was about to be a repeat performance of Dean’s hurting hand and Cas’s unharmed face when Sam made more distressed sounds, more acute, and all Dean’s attention was back on his brother. Sam was scratching at his face again with carefully close-clipped nails. Dean reached out with practiced, infinite patience to carefully pull Sam’s hands away before he could gouge deeper into his skin.
“Hey, hey, stop. Stop, Sammy. Shh…It’s okay, Sammy. It’s okay. You gotta calm down, alright?”
Sam twisted miserably, his wrists trapped by one of Dean’s hands. With his other hand, Dean reached up to brush Sam’s forehead. Sam reacted badly to touch, well, to everyone’s except Dean’s. It was one of the reasons Dean had been able to convince the nursing staff to let him in whenever he damn well wanted to be there, which was more often than not. After a moment, Sam stopped struggling quite as hard and didn’t lean away from his brother. Dean sighed in relief, releasing Sam’s hands and running fingers through Sam’s soft hair, forcing a strained smile.
“This is my fault.”
Dean didn’t look at Cas, didn’t stop brushing back Sam’s hair. He didn’t ask how the angel had known that, when he had remembered, or what exactly it was that he recalled. He didn’t really care.
“Yeah, it is.”
It wasn’t entirely. Cas had only brought down something that was bound to fall in time anyway, but he had done it on purpose. He had done it just to stall them. He had robbed Dean of whatever time he had left with his sibling and that was a hurt that would never truly heal.
“I’m sorry.” The angel whispered brokenly, almost sounding close to tears. He would hardly even look at Sam and Dean was just fine with that. He didn’t have the right to see the destruction he’d caused to their family, to someone who’d faced the devil and won. “I’m sorry…”
Dean just kept trying to soothe Sam. He was calming down, one bone-thin hand now wrapped around Dean’s wrist while the other kept tugging at his hair.
After awhile, Sam moved the hand in his hair down to the tile floor, scratching his way across. Dean went to take hold of him, but Sam kept reaching out, kept reaching toward Cas.
Stunned, Cas looked at an equally shocked Dean. Slowly, heart in his throat, he began approaching Sam, a tense Dean scrutinizing his every move.
He crouched down next to Sam as far away as he could while still being able to reach out. Slowly, he wound his fingers around Sam’s and the other let him. Cas’s voice was soft in wonder.
“…Sam?”
Sam made a slightly pained sound in the back of his throat, but didn’t let go.
One hand on Dean’s wrist and one tangled with Cas, Sam sighed, some tension leaving his frame. Dean and Cas exchanged disbelieving, somewhat tearful expressions, but neither moved, neither let go. They clung tighter.
They didn’t reach out for each other, that reconciliation was still somewhere in the future; past recovered memories, apologies, and release papers. But they were bound by Sam, content in the close circle that threatened to feel something like home.