so sacrifice yourself, and let me have what's left; closed/ongoing

[waywarded]

WHO: The Winchester Bros.
WHAT: Sam wants answers.
WHERE: Their place
WHEN: Today, evening.

Comments

[waywarded]

This wasn't like him. Dean would have him flat on the floor with a knife in his hands if he tried this back at home. So the fact that he was staying right there, not moving, not even trying- it meant he was tired. Or just broken, and god it hurt Sam so much to see him like that. This wasn't right. Dean was supposed to be the tough one. With his stupid leather jacket and his stupid obnoxious rock music and his stupid, stupid-

Sam glanced at him for a moment, ready to demand answers when Dean spoke- no, whispered, his name. Screw that, screw everything. Sam reached around, pulled him up, and wrapped his arms tightly around his brother- as if that could protect him from whatever had happened. As if that could do anything.

He was so goddamn useless here. He had no information, no idea what had happened and it was frustrating him, that he couldn't help. That Dean wouldn't let him help. The older Winchester had always had his back before, saving him, telling him to shut up when he was being stupid, risking his life for him.

And now Sam couldn't even help. All he could do was give his brother one stupid, stupid hug.

Sam broke the hug after a long moment, holding him at arms length, eyes searching Dean's face for answers. Normally he wouldn't even dare to do this, no matter what Dean was going through because his brother would punch him in the face if he tried it. But now, god- what the hell happened to that fighting spirit, the obnoxiousness?

"Dean- do you trust me?"