55th Hunt [Action] I had one job--take care of Sammy--and I failed

[dude_imbatman]

[Dean is sitting on his bed. It's a double bed across from Sam's bed. There's only about three feet separating the beds. Just like in all the motels they grew up in. Sam is lying on the bed obviously dead. He's still wearing the clothes he was wearing when Anna stabbed him. The sheets around him are stained with blood as well. Hygiene isn't really

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[srsbusinessk]

[There's something vaguely familiar about this scene even before Sam fully regains consciousness. Laying there, immobile, feeling like his entire body is submerged under water, every limb like lead. And then there's Dean. His brother, his -- Dean, and Goddammit why won't his body move? It all comes flooding back and Sam remembers, remembers everything. It feels like dying all over again.

It's Dean's birthday. He made it back just on time.]

Hey. [It's a strangled sound, coughed out like there's no oxygen in his lungs, and there isn't.] Think you can stop grieving long enough to help me up?

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[dude_imbatman]

[As soon as Sam draws breath, Dean is there half hugging, half pulling his brother up.] Who said I was grieving?

[Of course the fact that the words are choked with emotion and breathlessness totally confirm that]

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[srsbusinessk]

[Sam wants to make some sort of witty remark, some comeback to answer him, but he's pretty much exhausted all of the snark in him with the question he asked. All he's left with is this strange feeling of being light. A burden lifted, because Lucifer is finally out of his body.

He hugs Dean back. Hard. Like he's so much lighter, he feels like he's falling away. So many people have been hurt and so many have been ruined, possibly forever, Sam among them, but this moment, right here, means so much fucking more. Sam has his brother, and he has himself.

There are no words. There just...aren't.]

Re: [ action - open ] Also stealing your icon. It's gorgeous

[dude_imbatman]

[Dean's taken aback at first. Not by the hug so much as the ferocity of the hug. After a second he wraps his arms around Sam, hugging him just as tight. When he speaks his words are very quiet] It's okay, Sammy. I've got you.

[Sure it's something he might have said to Sam years ago when he was a little boy waking up from a nightmare but right now, the words seem like they need to be said]

[ action - open ] haha I know, right? I love it. <3

[srsbusinessk]

[And they work wonders. Sam's a horrible mixture of relieved and confused and scared and it's all so overwhelming. But Dean's there, and there is no better comfort in the world than those words.

After a good minute, Sam finally lets go and exhales deeply. Whirlwind of emotion hidden behind those eyes, but he manages something of a smile.]

Happy birthday, Dean.

Re: [ action - open ] haha I know, right? I love it. <3

[dude_imbatman]

[He gives a bitter chuckle and shakes his head]

Try not to die the day before next time, Bitch.

[His gratitude that Sam is back can't be masked though.]

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[srsbusinessk]

[Sam could argue that he had the worse birthday when Dean was dragged to Hell and didn't come back for four months. But that's not what they're here for.]

Yeah, whatever. Jerk. [He sits back down on the bed, feet on the ground, and rubs at his chest absent mindedly. He doesn't even realize that he's doing it.] How're doing? Did Anna heal you after--?

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[dude_imbatman]

[Dean watches Sam very aware that he's rubbing his chest then shakes his head at Sam's question.] I didn't...didn't want her to touch me.

[He swallows hard because honestly he's not sure how he gets past this or if he even can but some part of him wants to.]

Does it hurt?

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[srsbusinessk]

[Something about that doesn't sit well with him, even though he knows it's to be expected. No matter how much Dean cares about Anna (whether he admits that to himself or not), he's always come first. But just this once, his death was justified. Hell, it was necessary. Sam would've argued the way he treated her but his question interrupted that train of thought. He looks down and realizes what he's been doing, which makes him stop and flex his hand in a poor attempt to cover it.]

It, uh. [A cough to clear the knot in his throat,], it's just. Strange. Like a phantom limb, only with a sword instead of a missing foot. [He swallows, because keeping things light hearted is difficult.] Think I'll have another gnarly scar to match? [Might not've been the best joke to make, Sammy. The other scar is the one on his back from when Jake killed him.]

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[dude_imbatman]

[It's hard to take the light heartedness. His jaw tightens a moment and he almost holds his breath he's so tense. It takes effort to relax and let it go. Finally he smirks and shakes his head]

Least it's not a friggin' hand print.

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[srsbusinessk]

[Little victories still count, Dean. Sam's grateful for the effort.]

History of our lives mapped out on our skin. It's kinda cool if you ask me. [Going for the gold in the Beijing Olympics, Sam tries for a smile. It's forced and the very definition of awkward, but he gets it out eventually.] Besides, chicks dig scars.

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[dude_imbatman]

Hell yes chicks dig scars

[Have an awkward forced smile in return. he reaches down and grabs a beer out of the cooler he's put in there just for that purpose. He pops the top on one of the bottles and holds it out to Sam. Kid just came back from the dead. Damn straight he needs a beer.]

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[srsbusinessk]

[Sam chuckles a little as he takes the drink, and looks at it for a second before knocking it back. He's barely been alive ten minutes and he's already drinking. It's just the Winchester Way. It's comfortable, and soothing in a way that he can't really explain. After taking a good long drink, he sits there, rolling the bottle back and forth between his hands. Contemplation.]

I, uh. [A twitch of the corner of his mouth. Here comes another one of Sam's heartfelt apologies that never make anyone feel better.] I just. [If only it wasn't impossible to get out. So he just looks up at his brother.] I'm so sorry, Dean.

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[dude_imbatman]

[That earns Sam a light smack in the head--hey he's only been alive a little while. Dean doesn't want to give him a concussion]

Don't Sammy. You don't have to apologize to me.

[Clearly he is a pot or a kettle or something that is calling something black]

I shoulda...I should have been able to help you keep him locked up. I should have warned you. I should have known...

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[srsbusinessk]

[Sam's still rubbing the back of his head with a morbid smile of sorts.]

...We're kinda messed in the head, aren't we?

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[dude_imbatman]

Can't argue that since we legit ended up in the nuthouse.

[Yeah who knew telling the truth would get you thrown in the crazy house]