SPN: Unexpected 1/1
SUMMARY: Once they get comfortable around each other again after Sam's four-year-absence, Dean finds something unexpected on his brother's body. Written for the "bullet wounds" square on my hc_bingo card.
Growing up as the Winchester brothers had, privacy and modesty were two words that held very little meaning. Motel rooms didn't lend themselves to have much in the way of shielding, which grew awkward at times with two lanky teenagers in the same space.
But Sam had been gone for nearly four entire years, and he had been living in a civilian environment all that time. Dean found himself suddenly confused and awkward around his little brother - not sure what in their former level of comfort was appropriate around a quasi-civilian.
Sam was usually dumb as a brick when it came to anything approaching Dean and feelings, but this was one situation he caught onto right away. Stewing in his own grief and pain, he let it ride until after the ghost at the asylum amped up his anger into rage and misdirected it at Dean and then their painful separation during the Burkittsville case.
He knew he had to make up for all the agony he'd caused his brother both times - especially since they were so close together - and he figured working to restore their former level of comfort with each other would be a nice, safe, nonverbal way to begin.
Sam knew that, while talking things out made things better, with Dean actions had to come first or there wouldn't be any way his brother would feel safe enough to use words. He'd seen Dean go mute after trauma more than once.
And it hadn't escaped his notice that Dean was speaking less and less as time went on.
So, Sam began leaving his clothing out on his bed while he went into the shower. That ended up leaving him vulnerable to an itching powder in his briefs attack during their prank war - that had ended up needing two showers and two runs through a laundry machine until he could wear those again - but it had been so worth it to see his brother laughing and to be able to laugh with him.
He re-initiated their old games. Cribbage and card games and Yahtzee and he even managed to scrounge up a set of poker dice from somewhere deep inside the Impala. When research got to be too much and when they just needed a break or had some downtime, they would play and have fun.
Sam noticed Dean began to go to bars less. With the TV or the radio playing low in the background, the brothers slowly reconnected over games and beer and fun.
Sam knew his strategy had worked when one day, shortly after the nightmare that had been their encounter with the Bender bastards, he came out of the shower to get dressed and Dean was off the bed like a shot and across the room, the remote bouncing on the mattress as it landed.
"Sammy, what the hell?"
He'd seen them. He'd finally seen them. They were so comfortable with each other now that Dean had automatically glanced over at him instead of awkwardly away from him when he exited the shower.
And he'd seen them. Sam squirmed slightly as Dean's fingertips - icy feeling after the hot shower he'd just come out of -- skimmed over his arm and side, tickling over the top of his hip. "Let me get my shorts on and I'll show you."
Dean nodded and stepped back just enough for Sam to pull on his briefs and take the towel to work on his hair, then he was circling him. "What happened?"
Sam chuckled softly. "Turned out I could take myself away from you and Dad, but I couldn't escape Hunting. Turns out it's in my blood."
"You Hunted? Alone?"
"Yeah."
He touched the mark over Sam's hip again. "That's a bullet wound!" And the fingers moved to his arm. "So is that!"
"Not everything ended up being supernatural. I had to do a lot of anonymous reporting and sometimes I just didn't move fast enough." Sam shrugged. "I was careful and I was never hurt bad enough to require more than a couple of stitches."
"Who patched you up?"
"Me."
That stopped Dean in his tracks. "You didn't tell--"
He shook his head. "Jess never knew about my.... uh...."
"Extracurricular activities," they said in unison and shared a sad smile.
Dean abruptly slapped Sam's rear, making him jump and glare at his brother. "Get dressed, bitch," he grinned. "We need to hit the road before we're charged for another day."
"You just want breakfast, jerk," Sam grinned as he tugged on his t-shirt.
"Well, yeah," Dean chuckled as he started loading their belongings. Sam noticed he took a moment to count and make certain all 54 cards were there before he put the pack away and they had not left a joker behind like they had in the last deck they'd owned.
They were still dealing with a lot. They were still one family member short - two, in Sam's case.
But they were brothers again. And for this moment, all was right with both their worlds.
END
Growing up as the Winchester brothers had, privacy and modesty were two words that held very little meaning. Motel rooms didn't lend themselves to have much in the way of shielding, which grew awkward at times with two lanky teenagers in the same space.
But Sam had been gone for nearly four entire years, and he had been living in a civilian environment all that time. Dean found himself suddenly confused and awkward around his little brother - not sure what in their former level of comfort was appropriate around a quasi-civilian.
Sam was usually dumb as a brick when it came to anything approaching Dean and feelings, but this was one situation he caught onto right away. Stewing in his own grief and pain, he let it ride until after the ghost at the asylum amped up his anger into rage and misdirected it at Dean and then their painful separation during the Burkittsville case.
He knew he had to make up for all the agony he'd caused his brother both times - especially since they were so close together - and he figured working to restore their former level of comfort with each other would be a nice, safe, nonverbal way to begin.
Sam knew that, while talking things out made things better, with Dean actions had to come first or there wouldn't be any way his brother would feel safe enough to use words. He'd seen Dean go mute after trauma more than once.
And it hadn't escaped his notice that Dean was speaking less and less as time went on.
So, Sam began leaving his clothing out on his bed while he went into the shower. That ended up leaving him vulnerable to an itching powder in his briefs attack during their prank war - that had ended up needing two showers and two runs through a laundry machine until he could wear those again - but it had been so worth it to see his brother laughing and to be able to laugh with him.
He re-initiated their old games. Cribbage and card games and Yahtzee and he even managed to scrounge up a set of poker dice from somewhere deep inside the Impala. When research got to be too much and when they just needed a break or had some downtime, they would play and have fun.
Sam noticed Dean began to go to bars less. With the TV or the radio playing low in the background, the brothers slowly reconnected over games and beer and fun.
Sam knew his strategy had worked when one day, shortly after the nightmare that had been their encounter with the Bender bastards, he came out of the shower to get dressed and Dean was off the bed like a shot and across the room, the remote bouncing on the mattress as it landed.
"Sammy, what the hell?"
He'd seen them. He'd finally seen them. They were so comfortable with each other now that Dean had automatically glanced over at him instead of awkwardly away from him when he exited the shower.
And he'd seen them. Sam squirmed slightly as Dean's fingertips - icy feeling after the hot shower he'd just come out of -- skimmed over his arm and side, tickling over the top of his hip. "Let me get my shorts on and I'll show you."
Dean nodded and stepped back just enough for Sam to pull on his briefs and take the towel to work on his hair, then he was circling him. "What happened?"
Sam chuckled softly. "Turned out I could take myself away from you and Dad, but I couldn't escape Hunting. Turns out it's in my blood."
"You Hunted? Alone?"
"Yeah."
He touched the mark over Sam's hip again. "That's a bullet wound!" And the fingers moved to his arm. "So is that!"
"Not everything ended up being supernatural. I had to do a lot of anonymous reporting and sometimes I just didn't move fast enough." Sam shrugged. "I was careful and I was never hurt bad enough to require more than a couple of stitches."
"Who patched you up?"
"Me."
That stopped Dean in his tracks. "You didn't tell--"
He shook his head. "Jess never knew about my.... uh...."
"Extracurricular activities," they said in unison and shared a sad smile.
Dean abruptly slapped Sam's rear, making him jump and glare at his brother. "Get dressed, bitch," he grinned. "We need to hit the road before we're charged for another day."
"You just want breakfast, jerk," Sam grinned as he tugged on his t-shirt.
"Well, yeah," Dean chuckled as he started loading their belongings. Sam noticed he took a moment to count and make certain all 54 cards were there before he put the pack away and they had not left a joker behind like they had in the last deck they'd owned.
They were still dealing with a lot. They were still one family member short - two, in Sam's case.
But they were brothers again. And for this moment, all was right with both their worlds.
END