SPN Drabble: Laundry
I.
It was a pair of jeans that signified The End. Frayed, faded, and with holes (some mended, some not) from years of wearing them out. Dean wore them as he walked away.
Coincidentally, they were Sam’s favorite pair to see his brother in. Whenever Dean was in them, he remembered before. --Before training to hunt down evil, before leaving home for college, before trying to replace the only family he’s ever known with crowds of other kids his age.
Dean was gone for what would be years, and Sam needed to remember that those jeans meant knowing what love was.
II.
He walked away because he had to.
When Sam had turned around, Dean spared a parting glance. That sweatshirt, he knew it was the best thing his brother owned. Just seeing it made him recount every single time he had ever snuggled up to his Sammy. It was comfortable. Perfect.
He wanted nothing but the best for his baby brother. --Wanted to give him something to let Sam know sorry and goodbye. Instead, he handed over the Impala. No, it wasn’t enough for all the damage he’d done to Sam, but it was the best he could do.
III.
Absurd, how they met again after years. Of all things, a hunt had them at the right place. After working opposite sides of the country for so long, it was the first time they both decided to traipse into a state somewhere in the middle.
Dean felt Sam before he even saw him. His brother stood behind him for a long time, waiting on bated breath in that desolate, abandoned graveyard.
“Sammy,” he called out deftly as though he said it every minute of every day.
Whether by coincidence or not, Sam wore that sweatshirt and Dean wore those jeans.