After Sam's conversation with Jess, he knew he had some things to think over, and no one really to discuss it with. His fingers had twitched where they'd rested on his legs, listening to the sound of Jess moving about the kitchen to make them all something to eat, and suddenly needing to know if his brother was still there. Getting up from his spot
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Brow furrowing he opened his mouth to say something, anything, when he realized that his brother's hand was still cupping his chin. Unable to stop the small blush that covered his cheeks he brought up one of his hands and used it to grab at Dean's hand, lacing their fingers together briefly before he let his hand drop to his lap. 'I've slept in worse positions.' Sam kept his voice low, watching his brother for any untoward movements so he didn't reinjure himself. 'You okay...?'
He knew his brother had been through worse, but that didn't keep Sam from worrying about him, especially not when he'd originally passed out from blood loss only a little while before. 'You should be sleeping.'
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Sam relaxed, but only slightly, as Dean stopped, but his tension only increased as his brother offered the empty space on the bed to him. When he and Jess had first gotten together and moved in, Sam had made sure he'd bought one of the larger beds he could find, so that he wouldn't accidentally knock Jess out. She's smacked him on the back of the head after he'd confessed to her the reason behind their new bed, and then had proceeded to show him just how close she could get to him. Even with the larger bed, he knew that having two Winchesters in one bed wouldn't leave room for much else, and Sam wasn't willing to indulge in Dean's sudden cuddliness and risk injuring him worse. 'That's not funny Dean.' His expression softened at the thanks, nodding his head slightly, knowing that Dean would've done the same to him, but probably with less manhandling...not that he regretted it, sometimes Dean needed to be pushed around to show how stupid he was being.
He raised a skeptical eyebrow at his brother's words, both irritated and amused by the fact that Dean seemed to know when he was 'brooding'. If Dean hadn't been crucially injured Sam probably would've smacked him on the back of the head for that comment, but instead he opened it to protest getting on the bed with his brother. That is before he threatened to get down there with Sam, and he knew Dean could be just as stupidly stubborn enough to do so, and probably hurt himself more in the process. Letting out an irritated sigh he picked himself up with a soft groan and moved closer to the bed. He slid ontop of the covers next to him, resting back against the headboard as he crossed his legs straight out in front of him, raising an eyebrow down at Dean. 'Better?'
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Letting his head fall back to thunk against the wall he let out a soft snort, rolling his eyes. 'My back and neck are just fine. A bedside table is infinitely better then backseat of an Impala. Feel like I'm still working out kinks from growing up scrunched next to you.' He let his eyes fall closed, one hand lifting up to absently with the edges of his sleeves. It was rare for Dean to be willing to listen to his thoughts, choosing for the more 'active' route to things, and not really caring whether or not why he was feeling bad, but just trying to make him feel better with candy or barbie dolls.
Slanting his eyes open to give his brother an aggravated look he then let out a sigh, wiggling his toes in the comforter bunched at his feet. 'Why'd you do it Dean..' Sam knew his brother, and he may be gungho about hunting things and saving people, but even Sam knew he wasn't stupid enough to go after something this dangerous without help. It kind of hurt to know that Dean hadn't come to him first, but he knew he had been so pigheaded himself he probably would've ignored Dean and figured Dad would help him out. And that was another thing. The fact that their father seemed to have abandoned his brother made him resent him even more, not like he needed any more help in that department, but when it came to Dean, Sam became a bit more protective then usual.
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Lolling his head to the side he looked down at his brother's length stretched out on the bed, looking more relaxed then Sam could remember him being in a long time. He breathed out a soft, 'yeah' before he could catch himself, coughing lowly to cover up his slip and returning his gaze to his hands in his lap. 'Yeah, tell that to my crooked back. Then we'll see who's God's gift.' He was about to continue before he saw Dean moving from the corner of his eye, a rebuke forming on his tongue before he saw the look on his brother's face.
His brow furrowed, thinking about what Dean had to go through in making the decision to go after the dog, wincing as he heard about the little girl. Kids were a sore spot for his brother, and hearing what the dog had done to her, Sam knew even he would've gone after it full speed ahead. Reaching out a hand he pressed a hand to Dean's shoulder and moved him back onto his stomach gently, voice soft in the silence following his words. 'Stop moving, or you'll pop your stitches.' When Dean is back onto his stomach he doesn't remove his hand, resting it against the skin of his brother's shoulder and rubbing soothing circles into the skin with his thumb.
Letting his head rest against the headboard he kept his eyes on his brother's, brow furrowed as he tried to imagine what he'd gone through to make this decision. Love his brother as he may, it was times like these he just wanted to smack him and tell him that he wasn't invincible. Even after being raked by the dog, he'd still gone after it guns blazing to help save someone other then himself, but that was one of the things he admired about his brother. Sam just wished it didn't lead him into 'near death' situations quite so much. 'Alright, but next time, remember that you aren't claw-proof, or else I'm going to have to get you a Kevlar vest inscribed with 'jerk' across the front.'
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