Reconnecting 1/3
The tiny noise caused Sam's eyes to fly open. He was confused when he saw the generic motel room decor but still felt his Jess curled into his arms.
Then memory returned. They'd had to go get Dean after he'd been left alone too long and, completely distracted by it, had gotten clipped by a car. They'd stopped overnight to get some rest.
The noise sounded again, and Sam rolled over to find Dean sitting up in bed, fingernails scaping down his arms and legs, rocking hard back and forth.
Shit, Sam thought when he saw it was two AM. Dean had apparently woken from a dream right into a full-bore sensory spike.
"Hey. Dean." He kept his voice low and gentle, then heard that tiny noise a third time. Dean's amulet had cracked against a fingernail.
"Hey," he repeated. "Dean."
Jess frowned, opening her eyes.
Dean looked up, his eyes huge and lost. "I can't..." he whispered. "I can't m-make it stop this time...."
Sam winced at the reminder of just how long Dean had been left alone. That explained the frantic rocking and scratching himself. Rocking equaled balance was off. Scratching meant his touch was off. Dean was trying to overload himself and break the spike.
Inspiration hit and Sam brushed a kiss to Jess's lips before he got out of bed. "Lay down, Dean. Under the covers this time."
Dean looked at him, frowning. Jess looked at them curiously.
"Trust me."
Dean sighed and slid his legs under the thick swath of motel bed covers.
"Jess, turn up the air. Cool the room off about ten degrees." When she stood up to do that, Sam pulled the thick comforter off their bed, then walked over and tucked Dean in -- up to his chin, the green eyes widening as he realised what Sam was doing -- with all his bedclothes and their comforter.
"Deep pressure?" Dean whispered.
"Deep pressure," Sam confirmed.
Jess tilted her head. "Sam?"
"It's a sensory spike. His senses of balance and touch are screaming at him. That's why he's rocking and clawing -- he's trying to quiet them." As he spoke, he was pressing the covers tightly around Dean.
"I try to overload those," Dean said sleepily. The force of the covers pushing on his long bones felt so good it was pushing away the sensory spike. "When sight or hearing spike I try to mute them."
"And smell or taste?" Jess asked.
Shame coloured Dean's words. "I puke."
Jess winced, then frowned as she saw Sam pulling on a long-sleeved shirt and sweats and climbing onto Dean's bed. "Uh...?"
"I don't know why this helps," Sam said. "But it does. Always has." Sam lay down and draped one long arm and leg over Dean, using his body weight to press the covers further down onto his brother.
Jess watched as Dean slowly relaxed. Then she reached into Sam's duffel and pulled out one of his largest shirts -- the one that hit her about mid-calf. She slid it on, buttoning it up for warmth in the rapidly cooling room.
Sam felt the bed dip. He raised his head slightly to meet Jess's tired smile as she added the weight of her arm and leg to his.
As Jess lay her head on the pillows, Dean made that funny little whimper that showed Sam that sleep had finally taken him.
Sam just kept staring. Jess didn't know all the details of their life, but she was accepting that this was what they had to do for Dean.
Because she loved Sam and trusted him. And she knew how much Sam loved his brother.
And in that moment, Sam had never loved her more.
To Part Two