Sisyphus had a Brother 2/2 (Supernatural)
PART 1
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“Dean, wake up.” Someone was shaking him.
Dean opened his eyes blearily. He was curled up in Bobby’s spare room, nestled between an old sleeping bag and a comforter that had seen better days.
“What Sam?” He asked, pushing his face into the pillow, the light was too bright and his brain was letting him know quite clearly that it was not ready to be awake.
‘I think I found something.”
It should have woken him up more, but the call of sleep was still strong and Dean just turned his face back towards the light a little bit. “About what?”
“About this curse thing, c’mon, get up and come downstairs. You can go back to bed as soon as you read it. I promise.”
That was enough for him to haul his ass out of bed. Dean followed Sam down the stairs and into the living room. He’d lost his shirt at some point and the air was chilly in just a t-shirt.
“Coffee?” Bobby offered him a cup while Sam flipped through a book on the couch.
“Goin’ back to bed.” Dean muttered and stumbled closer to the couch, stifling a yawn.
Sam shoved the book in his face, pointing excitedly. “Here!”
Dean glanced at the page. The letters were tiny and he wasn’t too sure, but they didn’t look like English to him. “Wha’s it say?”
“So get this, the curse has a physical mark associated with it.” Sam pointed to a picture that Dean had missed on his first glance over the page. “Usually it’s a rune like this, something about binding. But it can take on an appearance specific to the intention of the curse.”
“I don’t have a physical mark.” Dean looked down at his hands, just in case one had appeared since he’d woken up.
“Exactly!” Sam proclaimed and put the book down. “I’ll leave the book out for when you actually wake up.”
Dean nodded and trudged back to the bedroom. He was awake now. Somehow he’d been hoping that the curse was real, that maybe he had saved Sam because he’d had too, not just because he couldn’t live without him. This was all on him now.
The next morning Sam didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave. He wasn’t coming through websites and he didn’t present Dean with a possible hunt once. Bobby was quiet too, he tossed Dean the key to the workshop in the morning and called him in for supper and that was it.
It was nice. Nothing really going on, no reason to hurry up and get things done with. If Sam had spent his time looking into the deal, he hadn’t said anything, no pressure to deal with it, no worries about the ever smaller number of tomorrows ahead of them.
Dean came to bed last that night. He sat on the back porch, drinking a beer, listening to the mosquitoes buzz around his ears and appreciating the stars in the sky. Stuff he normally didn’t care about.
“Thanks.” He whispered across the room as he climbed into his bed, trying not to make too much noise.
“You’re welcome.” Sam whispered back. “Want to do something tomorrow?”
Dean shrugged, he could just see the outline of Sam’s head in the darkness. “Not really.”
“That’s okay too.” There was a rustle of blankets and then quiet footsteps on the floor as Sam padded over to him.
Dean sat up as Sam collapsed heavily on top of him. He shifted a bit, until he could breathe again and returned Sam’s embrace, turning his face so Sam wouldn’t see his tears.
“Hey.” Sam murmured, Dean could feel the words in his chest more than he could hear them.
“I just-”
“It’s okay.” Sam carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “We’re going to sort this out. I can take care of you too, don’t forget. It works both ways. I’m gonna get you through this.”
Dean nodded into Sam’s shoulder, his tears smearing on the old t-shirt.
“We’ll do something tomorrow. Something fun, something easy, okay?” Sam’s hand moved off his head and stroked in circles on his back. “Fishing?”
“You hate fishing.” Dean mumbled, pulling away a little. He was tired and this release left him feeling ready for bed.
“I’ll put it with it.” Sam replied and he stretched out on the small bed, an arm still wrapped around his brother. “You put up with me.”