In Which Dean Comes Clean

[jstliketherifle]

Sam was asleep on the fold-out couch, drugged up to the eyeballs with pain meds and resting between Mama's force feedings. It was late at night and most of the other people at the farmhouse were sleeping or else avoiding the livingroom where Dean was on vigil for his younger brother. Even Ben could sense that Dean wanted to be left alone, so he convinced Alec to sleep upstairs instead of a heap of pillows by the fireplace.

"Don't think you're gettin' out of this," Mama sighed as she placed her hands on Dean's shoulders, shoving him into a seat in the kitchen. "And you don't have the same excuse your brother does. You're gonna sit in a chair and you're gonna eat somethin' like a civilized person."

"Mama -- " Dean started to protest, and she cut him off with a glare. He huffed slightly, before turning back to the plate and starting to eat. Mama gave him a satisfied smile, before wandering back into the living room and bending over the couch, brushing a gentle hand against Sam's face as she looked at him.

"Poor baby. These demons tore the holy hell out of you, didn't they?" She then got up and made her way over to one of the arm chairs, settling in so that she could keep an eye on both brothers Winchester from the same vantage point. Mostly to make sure that Dean wasn't shoving his food off on Jinx. The other man felt her stare on his shoulders, and he turned back to look at her with worried eyes.

"I'm eating, I'm eating."

"Mmm-hmm -- and next you're going to be sleeping. I can stay up with him tonight."

"Mama -- "

"If the next word out of your mouth is 'but', Dean Winchester, you better shut that mouth right now."

Dean sighed heavily before turning back to his food again, and continuing to eat. Mama just smirked, before leaning back in the chair again, reaching for her book.

About ten minutes later, Sam groaned has he tried to shift on the bed. His eyes fluttered open as he looked around, working once again to remember where he was. The waking up was still hard, and the drugs weren't helping with the clear mind. "Dean..." he called out softly, not seeing his brother in the darker room.

The look Mama gave him made it clear that Dean better not even think about moving if his plate wasn't clear, and Dean rolled his eyes and spoke up instead. "I'm right here, Sammy. Mama's just making me eat something."

Mama had pushed herself out of her chair at this point, moving to sit down next to him gently, brushing his hair away from his face so that he'd look at her. "Just take it easy, baby. You're safe -- you're with friends. You just rest, alright?"

"I'm alright. I've been sleeping on and off for days." He had only met Mama when Dean had carried him inside, so he wasn't so fast to trust. "Don't think I can get more rest than that."

Mama's lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked up as Dean handed her his clean plate over his brother. "Well, he's definitely your brother. He's worse with R and R than you are."

Dean just gave her a lopsided grin, before sitting down on the opposite side of Sam as Mama got up to take the plate back to the kitchen. "And I had a hole in my gut -- so that's really sayin' something. Congrats, Sammy."

Sam looked confused for a moment at his brother. He didn't get it. "I was only saying the truth. It's called a concussion."

Dean laughed. "I know that. And she knows that too. Probably." Because even if she did, Mama probably didn't care. "She just wants you to take it easy. Therefore she's choosing to see it as you being difficult."

"I am not," Mama's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Boy looks like he went ten rounds with Oscar de la Hoya on steriods. He's gonna stay there until he looks like he's gone one round with a five year-old. At least."

"As I was saying," Dean smirked. "She plans on mothering you to death. It's kind of her M.O."

"So she's going to be a female version of you when I was a kid. I think I'll survive." He gave Dean a small smirk.

Dean grinned. "Oh, no -- she's worse. She can actually cook."

Sam snorted. "Did you know Bela could cook?"

"I had her pancakes," Dean said with a sigh, before looking over at him. "She didn't slip you anything, did she?"

"No. Though she told me about your whiskey concoction."

Dean's eyes narrowed slightly and he shook his head. "I so should have shot her for that one."

"Even though she was right in making you rest."

Dean shot him a look that said 'don't you start with that too' before running a hand over his face. "Yeah, well -- she didn't have to dupe me into it. She could have just said get some sleep, and I would have." Well, she did say get some rest, and he was going to say no, but she had already slipped him the drugs by then, so he considered that a moot point.

"Dean, do not lie to your brother," Mama's voice echoed from the kitchen again. "I saw how you were when you left here, I can only imagine what you looked like when you actually got there."

"I was fine," Dean glared. He was really starting to hope that people would get off his case about the sleep thing. He's been very stressed lately. He'd sleep when he was less stressed. It was as simple as that.

"Yeah Dean. Sure." Sam opened his eyes to really look at his brother. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

"In this house? Good luck," Dean muttered, before glancing over at Mama in the kitchen. She was the only one in the house who was still up, so she was the only one he needed to convince to be elsewhere. "Since you won't let him move -- "

"Alright, fine, I'll disappear for a while," she sighed, drying her hands on a dish towel, before starting to walk out of the kitchen. "I'll be in my room. I expect to hear from you in the not to distant future when you turn in to go to sleep."

Dean rolled his eyes before nodding. "Yeah -- I'll come get you as soon as we're done."

"Good," Mama sighed, before disappearing back into her room and closing the door behind her. Dean waited for the click! of the lock, before turning back to Sam.

"What's up?"

"I need to know if they were lying to me," he said simply. "Vassago told me things while I was there. Things about Ruby, and about you. And before I talk to Ruby, I need to know if what they told me about you is true."

Dean's face sobered slightly, and his eyes darted to his hands for a minute. "And what did the bitch have to say about me?"

There was no easy way to ask this. Both of them knew that. "What happened in Hell, Dean?"

Dean licked his lips before shaking his head. "Don't know. Don't remember." Yes, he was going to keep lying about this. He was going to lie about it until he was blue in the face because that wasn't something his brother needed to know. Not about him. Not about what he did. Even though he knew that the demons would use it as some kind of ammo against him, he didn't care. His baseline was that he didn't remember. And he was sticking to it. They were his burden to bear.

Sam knew when he brother was hiding, though. Dean, he's just like you. That's why you can read one another so well. Sam took a deep breath. "They made me watch you. Through the eyes of a soul."

He hoped that it would make Dean fess up so they didn't have to go through the entire song and dance.

Dean's back straightened slightly, and he didn't look at his brother. He just stared off into the faint glow of the kitchen, his throat working as he tried to find the words to come back with that one. Those sons of bitches. He was going to kill them. He was going to kill every last one of them. How could they dare to -- could they even do that? Where would they get a hold of the memories for something like that? The questions were spinning through his head, and he shook his head slightly to clear them, still avoiding looking at Sam. The biggest, loudest question was that of which one? but he didn't ask, just tried to find the words to speak to Sam.

"I didn't know they could do that."

"So it's true." Sam sighed and closed his eyes. "So that's what I'm going to become..."

"No, Sam," he shook his head his eyes flying over to land on Sam. "You're stronger than them." Stronger than me. "You're not going to turn out like them."

Sam laughed. "Dean, compared to you I'm nothing. You've always been the stronger one. The one I look up to. The one who gives me the strength to go on." He looked at Dean. "You were in Hell, Dean. It's not a picnic. We knew that."

Dean knew that wasn't true. That Dean was the strong one. In fact, he knew that was the furthest from the truth entirely. Sam was the strong one. Sam was the one who went out and got what he wanted -- he went to Stanford, got the girl, had the life. Sam was the one who got out and moved on -- Dean was the needy twit who dragged him back. Dean was the one who couldn't even handle a friggin' woman in white all by himself -- he had to go get his brother in order to help him. Dean was the one who sold his soul for his brother's life, Dean was the one who broke on the rack, and that fate wasn't going to be the one that got handed to his brother. Not if Dean could help it.

"You're better than them, Sammy," he said, hoping the change in word choice was enough to get the point across.

"I know." He took a deep breath. "Dean, when I die..."

Dean's jaw clenched at the word, swallowing everything he wanted to say and focusing on what he should say. "What about it?"

"You need to destroy my body immediately. They have plans, and you need to cut them off. Otherwise they will put my body into some storage rack and keep it for if and when they get Lucifer free. And you can't let Lucifer have my powers and training. You won't be able to stop him then."

Dean swallowed hard, his voice quiet as he spoke. "Whatever you want, Sam." He was suddenly feeling incredible tired under the weight of the conversation. And he was tired of arguing with Sam about his dying. He knew there was nothing he could say that would change anything, and there would be no point, but there were so many things he wanted to say with regards to it, that just wouldn't do any good.

"And keep the boys away from the demon named Baal. Or he'll turn them against you."

Dean knew that name -- somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it -- but he tucked it away again, before nodding. "I'll keep an eye out for him."

Sam reached his good hand over to take his brother's. "You did what you had to, Dean. And now the angels have given you a second chance. Remember how before your deal was up, you talked about getting me ready for life without you? I'm going to do the same so you're prepared. And hopefully we can take some of these bastards out along the way."

Dean just nodded slowly, not responding to that one. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have by any means. He just wanted to find some way to fix it, but he didn't think there was any kind of medicine or magic that was going to fix what was wrong with his brother. His hands were tied. And he hated it when that happened.

"Hey Dean..."

"Yeah, Sam?" he frowned, glancing back at his brother over his shoulder.

"Do I really look that bad?" He smirked just a bit.

Dean smirked back at him. "You look like hell. And I'd let Mama take care of you. There's no living with her if she doesn't get her way on stuff like this."

"She probably has better bedside manner than you do anyway."

"Oh, she's pretty fantastic," Dean smiled. "And the food is fantastic."

"If I can keep it down." Sam closed his eyes. "And she doesn't tell demented fairy tales right?"

Dean chuckled, before shaking his head. "Nope. She'll talk your ear off about whatever suits her if you're willing to listen, though."

"Then I'll keep faking my concussion after it's gone."

Dean gave his brother a look. "She's not that bad. She just doesn't get people to do much more than sit around and eat all that often. When you're injured, she's got a captive audience. And she's got some crazy stories, man -- she's been in the business longer than you've been alive."

"Any of them about you? Like the one with a hole in your gut?"

Dean snorted slightly at that. "Poltergeist. Let's just say it wasn't my luckiest day in the world."

"We have lucky days?" Sam opened an eye with a raised eyebrow.

"We have days when we aren't just shit out of luck?" Dean suggested with a shrug. "Son of a bitch caught me with a knife before I could throw the last hex bag in. Luckily, my partners finished the job and got me out of there before I bled out all over the floor. Mama patched me up and got me back on my feet."

Sam closed his eye a moment, then looked back up at him. "And let me guess, the food is what keeps you coming back."

"Double decker death by chocolate chocolate cake," Dean said with a wide grin. "That's all I'm gonna say."

"Sounds like you found your own personal goddess in a kitchen." Sam chuckled.

"Something like that," Dean sighed. "Don't get out here as often as I should, though."

"No wonder why you're so skinny."

Dean snorted. "I wouldn't be so quick to talk, Sammy. You're not much better."

"I have an excuse. You don't."

"I eat well enough," he replied, giving his brother a look. "I was just force fed two helpings of Mama's shepherd's pie. I eat."

"I'm still shocked that you have to be force fed."

"Have you seen the sizes of the helpings? She's dishing out food for the Jolly Green Giant, not us normal people."

Sam laughed softly. "Not used to being spoiled."

"Not really," Dean sighed. "But it is nice. Really nice -- I can see why people stick around."

"Feels nice. Like a home."

"Yeah, it does," he nodded. "They're good people, all of them."

"I'm glad you have them in your life."

"Yeah, well -- now you've got 'em too."

"Yeah." Sam just squeezed his brother's hand because he wasn't going to say the words there. "Chocolate cake, huh?"

"Best I've ever had," Dean said, giving his brother a small smile. "Seriously. She only breaks it out for special occasions, but god -- it's like a small slice of heaven."

"Well, your birthday is coming up. I'll suggest it for you."

"It is?" Dean frowned, thinking for a minute, before shrugging. "Huh. Whadaya know."

"Now question is, do we tell Alec and let him start to plan you a party in his own special way?"

Dean chuckled. "Depends on how desperate he is for something to do. I'm turning forty-one." Even just saying it he didn't like the way it sounded. God, he felt old. "I don't want to make a big deal out of this." Though he knew that Mama never forgot a birthday. She might let Alec know whether Dean wants him to or not.

"I'll just loan you my card and you can buy yourself a present."

He shook his head. "I don't need anything. I'm good."

"Are you?"

Dean looked down at his hands for a moment, before shrugging. "I don't need anything you can buy with a credit card."

Sam sighed. And then he decided to do something that was entirely too childish and cheesy. He scooted over and rested his head against Dean's leg. "You know, I could use a cheesy fairy tale to help me fall back asleep."

Dean laughed slightly at that, trying to ignore the way his chest tightened. "Sure thing, Sammy," he said quietly. "Any requests?"

"Surprise me." He moved back a bit to make room for Dean on the bed.

Dean shifted so that he was sitting on the bed, leaning back against the back of the couch. "So once upon a time there was this chick," he began, closing his eyes slightly as he talked. He wasn't going to get into how he was almost forty-one and telling fairy tales to his brother who wasn't that much younger, because it didn't matter. Normally he would feel stupid but right now, he wasn't going to push it. "And she got bored one day and decided to go for a walk in the woods -- "

Sam sat up a bit, resting his head on Dean's chest while he listened. Because he knew they both had to look ridiculous, but Sam had realized while being kidnapped that he was going to be faced with a very strong choice that he was going to have to kill himself in the near future. And while he had come to terms with his death, he hadn't been expecting his brother to come back from the dead.

Sam didn't want to lose his brother either. He didn't want to go to Hell. He just wanted this again for a moment. Just Dean taking care of him. Making all the bad things go away if even for a moment before reality caught back up with them. Something that he could cling to when he became that soul on the rack that some demon slashed into.

" -- and she came across this house. No one seemed to be home, so she decided to have a look around and made her way inside." He did his best not to have his voice crack, or have anything else give away how he was feeling. He just wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders and kept him close, holding on to that for a while. "There were three bowls of oatmeal on the table. She tried all of them, God only knows why, but apparently the first two weren't doing it for her, but the third one hit the spot. She finished the bowl, and then started to make her way into the living room -- "

Dean would feel Sam go limp in his arms as he fell back asleep, holding onto his brother and a small smile on his lips. Happy. Safe.

Dean felt his brother drift off and he stopped talking, just staying where he was, silent tears starting to slip down his cheeks. He knew he had promised to go get Mama when he was finished talking to his brother, but right now, he just didn't have the will to move. He just let his head rest against the back of the couch, eyes closed, and tried his best to push the thoughts about his brother dying to the back of his mind.

A few minutes later, he heard a door open somewhere in the house, and his eyes snapped open, a hand coming up to brush against the side of his face lightly, trying to get rid of the tears. He looked up when he heard the footsteps stop, and he saw Mama standing in the entryway to the living room, looking over at him with a soft look on her face. "I know -- I know I said I'd come get you, but -- but I -- "

Mama hushed him softly, making her way over to him slowly. She placed a hand against the side of his face lightly, brushing away some of the tears with her thumb and kissing the top of his head. "It's okay, baby. I was just making sure that you were alright." Dean just closed his eyes at the touch for a minute, looking up at her when she pulled away. "I'll be back to check on you in the morning, okay honey? You just get some rest." Dean nodded slowly, watching her walk away again, before shifting and leaning in closer to his brother.

He didn't have the heart to tell her that he was probably never going to quite be okay.