FILLED: Back to Where We Were Pt. 2authoressnebulaApril 25 2011, 22:24:14 UTC
"Sammy?"
Sam glanced up from where he was apparently making idle patterns in the table with his finger. Dean was definitely concerned now, and no amount of drinking water was going to help.
Easiest way to make Dean stop looking worried or harried about Sam was to get out of the way. "I'm just gonna go lay down for a little bit," Sam said, pushing away from the table. Let Dean keep talking with Bobby about whatever it was they were dealing with now. Even with Lucifer locked up, they were still hunting things. The world went on.
Except Dean wasn't sitting down like he was supposed to: Dean was getting up and hurrying to meet Sam in the hallway. "Let's get you upstairs then, somewhere horizontal," Dean said. He led Sam to the stairs - the ones leading to the second story, not the basement - and followed him up. His hand was pressed between Sam's shoulder blades gently as could be, just enough pressure to let Sam know that if he stumbled or fell back, Dean would be right there.
Yeah, because that was normal for them these days. Not.
Sam was just getting into bed when Dean asked, "What's going on with you? You feeling okay?"
And god, Sam hated that he was about to lie to Dean again. Dean was acting like, well, Dean again, and Sam was still pulling them back down in the deep darkness that had been their brotherhood for the past year and a half. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said with an attempted smile.
But he had to lie. Because he was certain that if he did, Dean would realized exactly how he'd been acting. And then that would be the end of the big brother attitude that had been there for the past three days. Dean was talking to him again, looking at him without any mistrust or disgust, god, touching him again. He'd patted Sam's shoulder and pulled him in for random one-arm hugs more times in the past three days than he had in the past two years combined.
And Sam was selfish enough to want it to continue. Wanted it enough to keep lying.
Sam laid down and closed his eyes before he could see Dean's reaction. "Get some rest," Dean said a moment later. Then, "Call me if you need anything all right? I mean it, Sammy."
He'd been Sammy more times in the past few days than he had in a long time, too.
"I will," Sam promised. The door quietly shut, and Sam opened his eyes. He could hear Dean's footsteps treading down the stairs, not shifting outside the door to listen to what Sam might be doing. The entire thing made his eyes burn, and he shut them again in an attempt to stave off stupid tears.
It was all going to fall down around his ears anyways: he might as well enjoy it while he still had it.
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He wound up falling asleep despite his best intentions, because when he opened his eyes next, the sky was dark outside the window. He sat up, that groggy nap feeling making his vision blur for half a second and leaving him feeling disoriented. When he finally blinked again, the door was opening and Dean was quietly poking his head in.
"Hey, sleepy head," Dean said, but he looked honestly pleased to see Sam. "You feeling any better?"
"If you'd let me wake up first, I'll let you know," Sam said without thinking, then froze. Seriously? That was how he was going to answer Dean, the guy who so far hadn't kicked him out on his ass? The guy who'd asked him to come back, had even gone so far as to consider his idea for taking down Lucifer?
FILLED: Back to Where We Were Pt. 3authoressnebulaApril 25 2011, 22:38:29 UTC
When he glanced up, though, Dean actually looked more relieved and happy than he had a moment before. "Nah, gotta keep you on your toes. You always did wake up fast."
That...was it? No recrimination about him sleeping on the job while the apocalypse he'd started was still running? Dean used to tease him like this...before. God, Sam hated dividing his life into "before" and "after" his mistakes.
"You sure you're okay?" Dean said, frowning. The next thing Sam knew, Dean was taking a seat on the bed next to Sam and pressing the back of his hand to Sam's forehead. "You don't feel warm, but hey, I'm kind of a suck ass doctor."
Dean had always been the best doctor, as far as Sam had been concerned. Always knowing when Sam needed medicine or a popsicle, tv in the motel room or a hospital room. It was Sam who'd screwed everything up.
"I'm fine," Sam insisted, pushing himself to his feet in one good shove. He wobbled for half a second, but no longer than that, because Dean was right there to catch him.
"I do not think that word means what you think it means," Dean quoted, and despite himself, Sam grinned.
"You really must think I'm sick if you're quoting that film."
Dean grinned right back at him. "Hey, The Princess Bride is a must for any sick person. That's how it even starts, so ringing endorsement right there." Once Sam was stable he let go of one hand, but still used his other to hang onto Sam's elbow. Like he was afraid that if he let go, he'd lose Sam.
Sam was terrible enough to admit that he'd missed that part of Dean, though he couldn't remember Dean ever being this insistent on keeping an eye out for Sam. Especially not lately.
"You want something to eat? Bobby's making some of his soup and crackers." Which meant Campbell's soup from the can and saltines spread out all over the table for grabs. Comfort food. One of Sam's favorites.
Sam swallowed hard and really wished this wasn't going to end. "Yeah, it sounds great."
-------
Dinner was great, and not just for the food. Dean joked and teased and smiled at him all throughout the meal, and when Sam haltingly replied back, Dean was all ears. It was like he couldn't get enough of what Sam had to say. This wasn't the Dean who'd run away and literally tried to commit suicide by angel. This wasn't the man who ranged from strong for the fight to defeated and ready to curl up and die.
This was the man who was a big brother. This was his Dean that Sam was fairly certain he'd lost. Except somehow, he hadn't.
"You want another glass of water, Sammy?"
God, what was up with him and hydrating Sam lately? "Uh, sure," Sam said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. Dean just snorted in amusement before taking Sam's glass from the table. At this rate, Sam was considering checking his brother for possession. Bobby always kept holy water in his drinks-
Oh.
The small, warm feeling that Sam had felt growing during dinner immediately fell away, leaving his stomach in knots. Dean was checking him for possession. It made sense. Lucifer had been inside him for...who knew how long, actually. It'd just been "too long" as far as Dean had been concerned after he'd woken up, right before he'd hugged the crap out of Sam and led him from the panic room. And he'd been chugging down a lot of demon blood before hand. Made perfect sense that Dean would-
Would be getting the water from the tap. The non-possessed water, though Sam wouldn't put it past Bobby to holy up his water tank. But it completely killed Sam's idea, leaving him...back to square one on the confusion board.
Dean smiled and placed the water in front of Sam. "So, uh, from the tap, huh?" Sam couldn't help but ask. Bobby had water in the fridge: cold and holy, but they drank it sometimes when they wanted something filtered and chilled.
Dean raised his one eyebrow. "Uh, yeah? That's where we always get the water from, Sammy. Why wouldn't I?"
And there Sam was, suddenly two steps away from ending his time as a loved little brother again. "Nothin', just curious," Sam said, clearing his throat and turning to the glass. "Thanks, man."
FILLED: Back to Where We Were Pt. 4authoressnebulaApril 25 2011, 23:20:49 UTC
He could feel Dean staring at him for a long time before he felt his brother's hand fall on his shoulder. "You're welcome," Dean said softly. Then Dean's steps walked away, getting softer until he heard the rustling of pages and the soft murmur of voices. Not trying to be secretive, just soft by virtue of distance. And just like that, Sam knew that if he wanted to, he could join them. No reluctant looks from Dean, no wary gazes as he suggested something. Just his opinion, offered freely and freely taken with respect to his voice.
The term, 'smothered in love' was fast becoming a possibility. Sam quickly grabbed his glass, drained it, then softly rose from the table and stepped out the back door.
The night air felt good, even though it felt chilly. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself but couldn't bring himself to go back inside. Not yet. He felt tenuous, torn between two worlds. It was almost like this one, this one where there was a Dean who didn't hate him and actually loved him, this one was a parallel world to the one he belonged him. He felt like Alice, stepped freshly through the rabbit hole, only to find her world upside down and nothing acting like it should.
Not that he wanted Dean to loathe him, but it was just...weird. Sam hadn't played this part in a long time. He missed being that little brother, but it was unknown territory to him. So was Dean's being so brotherly.
Something heavy fell onto his shoulders. Sam jerked away out of instinct and found Dean hurrying to catch the jacket that was falling. "Little twitchy there, Sparky?" Dean commented before he walked up to Sam and laid the jacket over his shoulders again. "You were shivering, dude. And that's generally not a good thing."
"No, not good," Sam agreed, feeling stupid for his initial reaction. "Sorry." God, the word ever on his lips, the one that nobody could ever take seriously given how much he said it.
"Hey, no apology needed," Dean said, very serious now. "Ever." He began to speak again, then stopped himself, as if contemplating what he was going to say next.
Before he could speak again, though, Sam hurried to fill the silence. "I just, uh, wanted to walk around the yard," he said, his words coming out in a sort of pleading defensive way. "I wasn't planning on staying out here much longer, I swear."
Dean stared at him for so long Sam began to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. "You must be cold," Sam said, aiming for a smile and feeling it come out more as a grimace. "Let's head inside."
"Can we talk first?"
And there it was. Four words, and Sam was going to be pulled out of the beautiful world of Wonderland and shoved back into his regular life of distrust and barely hidden loathing. "Sure," Sam said resignedly.
Dean turned and headed for the house anyway, but stopped at the steps to take a seat. Sam slowly took a seat on the lower step, keeping to his side as far as he could. Dean would appreciate the space in a minute, if he wasn't already.
With a huff Dean shifted down to sit on Sam's step, then leaned in and fussed with Sam's jacket. "You trying to catch cold, Samantha?" Dean grumbled, and it was such a Dean thing to do that Sam felt like he was going to choke on the lump in his throat.
Dean sat back and regarded him for a long moment with a gaze Sam couldn't quite read. "So, uh, what did you want to talk about?" Sam asked. Anything to stall the inevitable.
FILLED: Back to Where We Were Pt. 5 - EndauthoressnebulaApril 25 2011, 23:50:56 UTC
Dean sighed, thinking his words over. Sam held his breath.
And then Dean said the last thing Sam would even have thought he'd say.
"I'm sorry."
Sam let out the breath he was holding with a gasp of incredulity. "You...wait, what?"
Dean glanced up at him, and there was that look again that Sam still didn't understand. "Yeah, you. The look on your face when I tossed you your jacket. Or when I said I needed to talk to you. You just..." Dean turned away. "Not a look I ever wanted to see on your face again," he said quietly, and for half a second Sam was certain Dean was looking elsewhere, remembering something. And it wasn't something good.
When he turned back to Sam, Sam realized what the look on Dean's face was: regret. "And I managed to put it there, somehow," Dean continued, and when he smiled this time, it was small and tinged with sadness. "So you gotta tell me what I did-"
"No," Sam immediately corrected, his stomach twisting again. God, none of this was Dean's fault at all. "I mean, no, Dean, it wasn't your fault."
"Yeah," Dean said, but his voice was firmer. "And you're still trying to take the fault for something that's not yours. God, it's like you're-"
Dean froze. Sam froze. He wasn't exactly sure why he did, but he knew whatever came out of Dean's mouth next wasn't going to be good.
"You are," Dean said softly, as if just realizing something. He huffed an incredulous laugh before shaking his head. "Oh god, you are. Of course you are."
The urge to get up and flee had never been stronger, but Sam hadn't so much as given energy to his muscles before Dean was focused on him again. "You listen to me," he said quietly, but it wasn't a resigned tone, or a defeated one. Not even the upward swing of elated that Dean had taken for months when he wasn't one of the others. No, this was all big brother who knew what was right and what was wrong and how the world worked. This was the big brother he'd kept believing in.
"You've been gone for...awhile," Dean said vaguely. "And I've had some time to pull my head out of my ass, all right? You were gone, Sam. Straight down that hole into the Pit and..." He swallowed convulsively and blinked hard for a minute. "And I didn't think I was getting you back," he added. "But I did. And it's not gonna be like it was before, all right? This is it. No angels between us, no demons, nothing. This is us, the Winchesters, just doing the family business. And I'm not doing it without my little brother. I fought hard to get you back, and I'm gonna fight just as hard to keep you."
It was Sam's turn to swallow hard and turn away. The hand that fell on his shoulder this time definitely wasn't reluctantly put there as an obligation. It felt like the rest of the times Dean had caught him or patted his shoulder for the past few days: it felt like a reassurance that Sam was still there, and that Dean was still there and not going anywhere.
Just as Dean was about to pull his hand away, Sam's hand shot up and caught his brother's tightly. Dean gripped back just as hard. "It's over, Sammy," Dean said softly.
And for the first time since he'd opened his eyes and found his brother hovering above him, not the darkness as he fell, Sam truly believed it.
He glanced over at his brother, his big brother, and Sam gave a genuine smile. "I know," he said, and Dean grinned back at him.
It was over. And they were picking up right where they'd left off.
Re: FILLED: Back to Where We Were Pt. 5 - EndmarziebarzApril 26 2011, 08:02:54 UTC
CURSE YOU AND YOUR AWESOME!!! I'm supposed to be studying for a calc midterm and then sleeping, but this was too awesome to pass up! You see how well my self-restraint works =P. Anyways, this was cute and awesome and made of WIN. Now I really do need to go study...wish I could salt'n'burn this stupid test.
Sam glanced up from where he was apparently making idle patterns in the table with his finger. Dean was definitely concerned now, and no amount of drinking water was going to help.
Easiest way to make Dean stop looking worried or harried about Sam was to get out of the way. "I'm just gonna go lay down for a little bit," Sam said, pushing away from the table. Let Dean keep talking with Bobby about whatever it was they were dealing with now. Even with Lucifer locked up, they were still hunting things. The world went on.
Except Dean wasn't sitting down like he was supposed to: Dean was getting up and hurrying to meet Sam in the hallway. "Let's get you upstairs then, somewhere horizontal," Dean said. He led Sam to the stairs - the ones leading to the second story, not the basement - and followed him up. His hand was pressed between Sam's shoulder blades gently as could be, just enough pressure to let Sam know that if he stumbled or fell back, Dean would be right there.
Yeah, because that was normal for them these days. Not.
Sam was just getting into bed when Dean asked, "What's going on with you? You feeling okay?"
And god, Sam hated that he was about to lie to Dean again. Dean was acting like, well, Dean again, and Sam was still pulling them back down in the deep darkness that had been their brotherhood for the past year and a half. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said with an attempted smile.
But he had to lie. Because he was certain that if he did, Dean would realized exactly how he'd been acting. And then that would be the end of the big brother attitude that had been there for the past three days. Dean was talking to him again, looking at him without any mistrust or disgust, god, touching him again. He'd patted Sam's shoulder and pulled him in for random one-arm hugs more times in the past three days than he had in the past two years combined.
And Sam was selfish enough to want it to continue. Wanted it enough to keep lying.
Sam laid down and closed his eyes before he could see Dean's reaction. "Get some rest," Dean said a moment later. Then, "Call me if you need anything all right? I mean it, Sammy."
He'd been Sammy more times in the past few days than he had in a long time, too.
"I will," Sam promised. The door quietly shut, and Sam opened his eyes. He could hear Dean's footsteps treading down the stairs, not shifting outside the door to listen to what Sam might be doing. The entire thing made his eyes burn, and he shut them again in an attempt to stave off stupid tears.
It was all going to fall down around his ears anyways: he might as well enjoy it while he still had it.
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He wound up falling asleep despite his best intentions, because when he opened his eyes next, the sky was dark outside the window. He sat up, that groggy nap feeling making his vision blur for half a second and leaving him feeling disoriented. When he finally blinked again, the door was opening and Dean was quietly poking his head in.
"Hey, sleepy head," Dean said, but he looked honestly pleased to see Sam. "You feeling any better?"
"If you'd let me wake up first, I'll let you know," Sam said without thinking, then froze. Seriously? That was how he was going to answer Dean, the guy who so far hadn't kicked him out on his ass? The guy who'd asked him to come back, had even gone so far as to consider his idea for taking down Lucifer?
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That...was it? No recrimination about him sleeping on the job while the apocalypse he'd started was still running? Dean used to tease him like this...before. God, Sam hated dividing his life into "before" and "after" his mistakes.
"You sure you're okay?" Dean said, frowning. The next thing Sam knew, Dean was taking a seat on the bed next to Sam and pressing the back of his hand to Sam's forehead. "You don't feel warm, but hey, I'm kind of a suck ass doctor."
Dean had always been the best doctor, as far as Sam had been concerned. Always knowing when Sam needed medicine or a popsicle, tv in the motel room or a hospital room. It was Sam who'd screwed everything up.
"I'm fine," Sam insisted, pushing himself to his feet in one good shove. He wobbled for half a second, but no longer than that, because Dean was right there to catch him.
"I do not think that word means what you think it means," Dean quoted, and despite himself, Sam grinned.
"You really must think I'm sick if you're quoting that film."
Dean grinned right back at him. "Hey, The Princess Bride is a must for any sick person. That's how it even starts, so ringing endorsement right there." Once Sam was stable he let go of one hand, but still used his other to hang onto Sam's elbow. Like he was afraid that if he let go, he'd lose Sam.
Sam was terrible enough to admit that he'd missed that part of Dean, though he couldn't remember Dean ever being this insistent on keeping an eye out for Sam. Especially not lately.
"You want something to eat? Bobby's making some of his soup and crackers." Which meant Campbell's soup from the can and saltines spread out all over the table for grabs. Comfort food. One of Sam's favorites.
Sam swallowed hard and really wished this wasn't going to end. "Yeah, it sounds great."
-------
Dinner was great, and not just for the food. Dean joked and teased and smiled at him all throughout the meal, and when Sam haltingly replied back, Dean was all ears. It was like he couldn't get enough of what Sam had to say. This wasn't the Dean who'd run away and literally tried to commit suicide by angel. This wasn't the man who ranged from strong for the fight to defeated and ready to curl up and die.
This was the man who was a big brother. This was his Dean that Sam was fairly certain he'd lost. Except somehow, he hadn't.
"You want another glass of water, Sammy?"
God, what was up with him and hydrating Sam lately? "Uh, sure," Sam said, raising an eyebrow at his brother. Dean just snorted in amusement before taking Sam's glass from the table. At this rate, Sam was considering checking his brother for possession. Bobby always kept holy water in his drinks-
Oh.
The small, warm feeling that Sam had felt growing during dinner immediately fell away, leaving his stomach in knots. Dean was checking him for possession. It made sense. Lucifer had been inside him for...who knew how long, actually. It'd just been "too long" as far as Dean had been concerned after he'd woken up, right before he'd hugged the crap out of Sam and led him from the panic room. And he'd been chugging down a lot of demon blood before hand. Made perfect sense that Dean would-
Would be getting the water from the tap. The non-possessed water, though Sam wouldn't put it past Bobby to holy up his water tank. But it completely killed Sam's idea, leaving him...back to square one on the confusion board.
Dean smiled and placed the water in front of Sam. "So, uh, from the tap, huh?" Sam couldn't help but ask. Bobby had water in the fridge: cold and holy, but they drank it sometimes when they wanted something filtered and chilled.
Dean raised his one eyebrow. "Uh, yeah? That's where we always get the water from, Sammy. Why wouldn't I?"
And there Sam was, suddenly two steps away from ending his time as a loved little brother again. "Nothin', just curious," Sam said, clearing his throat and turning to the glass. "Thanks, man."
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~Nebula
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~Nebula
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The term, 'smothered in love' was fast becoming a possibility. Sam quickly grabbed his glass, drained it, then softly rose from the table and stepped out the back door.
The night air felt good, even though it felt chilly. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself but couldn't bring himself to go back inside. Not yet. He felt tenuous, torn between two worlds. It was almost like this one, this one where there was a Dean who didn't hate him and actually loved him, this one was a parallel world to the one he belonged him. He felt like Alice, stepped freshly through the rabbit hole, only to find her world upside down and nothing acting like it should.
Not that he wanted Dean to loathe him, but it was just...weird. Sam hadn't played this part in a long time. He missed being that little brother, but it was unknown territory to him. So was Dean's being so brotherly.
Something heavy fell onto his shoulders. Sam jerked away out of instinct and found Dean hurrying to catch the jacket that was falling. "Little twitchy there, Sparky?" Dean commented before he walked up to Sam and laid the jacket over his shoulders again. "You were shivering, dude. And that's generally not a good thing."
"No, not good," Sam agreed, feeling stupid for his initial reaction. "Sorry." God, the word ever on his lips, the one that nobody could ever take seriously given how much he said it.
"Hey, no apology needed," Dean said, very serious now. "Ever." He began to speak again, then stopped himself, as if contemplating what he was going to say next.
Before he could speak again, though, Sam hurried to fill the silence. "I just, uh, wanted to walk around the yard," he said, his words coming out in a sort of pleading defensive way. "I wasn't planning on staying out here much longer, I swear."
Dean stared at him for so long Sam began to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. "You must be cold," Sam said, aiming for a smile and feeling it come out more as a grimace. "Let's head inside."
"Can we talk first?"
And there it was. Four words, and Sam was going to be pulled out of the beautiful world of Wonderland and shoved back into his regular life of distrust and barely hidden loathing. "Sure," Sam said resignedly.
Dean turned and headed for the house anyway, but stopped at the steps to take a seat. Sam slowly took a seat on the lower step, keeping to his side as far as he could. Dean would appreciate the space in a minute, if he wasn't already.
With a huff Dean shifted down to sit on Sam's step, then leaned in and fussed with Sam's jacket. "You trying to catch cold, Samantha?" Dean grumbled, and it was such a Dean thing to do that Sam felt like he was going to choke on the lump in his throat.
Dean sat back and regarded him for a long moment with a gaze Sam couldn't quite read. "So, uh, what did you want to talk about?" Sam asked. Anything to stall the inevitable.
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And then Dean said the last thing Sam would even have thought he'd say.
"I'm sorry."
Sam let out the breath he was holding with a gasp of incredulity. "You...wait, what?"
Dean glanced up at him, and there was that look again that Sam still didn't understand. "Yeah, you. The look on your face when I tossed you your jacket. Or when I said I needed to talk to you. You just..." Dean turned away. "Not a look I ever wanted to see on your face again," he said quietly, and for half a second Sam was certain Dean was looking elsewhere, remembering something. And it wasn't something good.
When he turned back to Sam, Sam realized what the look on Dean's face was: regret. "And I managed to put it there, somehow," Dean continued, and when he smiled this time, it was small and tinged with sadness. "So you gotta tell me what I did-"
"No," Sam immediately corrected, his stomach twisting again. God, none of this was Dean's fault at all. "I mean, no, Dean, it wasn't your fault."
"Yeah," Dean said, but his voice was firmer. "And you're still trying to take the fault for something that's not yours. God, it's like you're-"
Dean froze. Sam froze. He wasn't exactly sure why he did, but he knew whatever came out of Dean's mouth next wasn't going to be good.
"You are," Dean said softly, as if just realizing something. He huffed an incredulous laugh before shaking his head. "Oh god, you are. Of course you are."
The urge to get up and flee had never been stronger, but Sam hadn't so much as given energy to his muscles before Dean was focused on him again. "You listen to me," he said quietly, but it wasn't a resigned tone, or a defeated one. Not even the upward swing of elated that Dean had taken for months when he wasn't one of the others. No, this was all big brother who knew what was right and what was wrong and how the world worked. This was the big brother he'd kept believing in.
"You've been gone for...awhile," Dean said vaguely. "And I've had some time to pull my head out of my ass, all right? You were gone, Sam. Straight down that hole into the Pit and..." He swallowed convulsively and blinked hard for a minute. "And I didn't think I was getting you back," he added. "But I did. And it's not gonna be like it was before, all right? This is it. No angels between us, no demons, nothing. This is us, the Winchesters, just doing the family business. And I'm not doing it without my little brother. I fought hard to get you back, and I'm gonna fight just as hard to keep you."
It was Sam's turn to swallow hard and turn away. The hand that fell on his shoulder this time definitely wasn't reluctantly put there as an obligation. It felt like the rest of the times Dean had caught him or patted his shoulder for the past few days: it felt like a reassurance that Sam was still there, and that Dean was still there and not going anywhere.
Just as Dean was about to pull his hand away, Sam's hand shot up and caught his brother's tightly. Dean gripped back just as hard. "It's over, Sammy," Dean said softly.
And for the first time since he'd opened his eyes and found his brother hovering above him, not the darkness as he fell, Sam truly believed it.
He glanced over at his brother, his big brother, and Sam gave a genuine smile. "I know," he said, and Dean grinned back at him.
It was over. And they were picking up right where they'd left off.
~Nebula
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<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
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MADE OF AWESOME AND FILLED WITH WIN ^_^
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