Who: The Bros. Winchester
What: Since everyone knows Sam and Dean are basically hopeless without each other, it's about time for the reunion.
When: Evening, a few days after Sam's arrival
Where: The bar
Rating: PG-13 I'm gonna say, cause well... Dean
Status: Incomplete, Closed
(
There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest... don't you cry no more. )
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But another Molson's slid down the bar a second later, zooming past Sam. Which meant the bartender must have heard the voice too. Nervous of being disappointed after his first bloom of hope in nearly a month, Sam almost didn't want to turn his head. But slowly, he did, gripping the counter in apprehension of what he might (or more accurately, might not) see.
Immediately, he was glad he had. "Oh my God, Dean," he gasped, practically sagging in relief.
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Chin dripping with beer, he swiped at it with a sleeve as he stared in disbelief at his brother. "Sammy?" The bar stool dropped to floor as Dean grasped his brother's shoulders tightly.
Real. Alive and breathing and oh, God he was going to punch him in the face. "Where the hell have you been? What the hell happened to you?" He shook his brother's shoulders hard, wanting to beat him senseless and hug him tightly at the same time.
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He let go of the hug and dropped his arms to his sides, sighing. He could have finished that sentence a number of different ways, really, as there were hundreds of horrible scenarios that had run through his head in the time Dean was missing. The most terrifying and frequent of which being the thought that Dean had been sent back to hell. Sam really didn't think he had to name any of the specific ideas out loud. Dean would get it.
Sam stared at his brother and couldn't seem to stop the inner mantra. Dean's okay, Dean's okay, Dean's okay... Except, as much relief as it brought, what it did not bring was answers. "Why would you just leave like that, Dean? What the hell were you thinking?"
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