Need to Breathe, 1/1, PG-13, Post 5x04
Yeah. We all knew there was something missing from that awesome scene at the end, right?
Title: Need to Breathe
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Post 5x04: The End. Y'all have been warned.
Prompt: #167 - Antapology for tamingthemuse
Disclaimer: Dude don't look at me; I got nothin'.
Wordcount: 1,314
Summary: It was two hours later in the Impala that Dean realized he still couldn't really breathe. That last step to being brothers again.
Warnings: Schmangst, wee bit of h/c, and hugging. HUGGING.
A/N: Totally selfish indulgence about why Dean was crying when he saw Lucifer wearing Sam. Because dammit, I totally believe this is why.
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It was two hours later in the Impala that Dean realized he still couldn't really breathe.
He was exhausted down to his toes, and he knew he'd been gone technically two days in one night, so yeah, he should be tired. Probably still emotional residue, too, from seeing his future self being so cold and empty, and he'd thought that it was because Sam was dead. Of course his future self wasn't doing okay, had probably been kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Sam or trying to find Sam at all, the stupid dick.
And then there was the emotional remnants from seeing Lucifer wear his little brother with such a soft smile and spinning such lies and knowing that Sam was probably in there somewhere screaming, or worse, Sam was truly gone forever, only his body left, his soul decimated by Lucifer. Lucifer had been so unlike Sam in every way and it had gutted Dean to realize that Sam had said yes to the bastard for some reason. That Sam had been gone and it was just that sonuvabitch left inside and Sam had been gone, and god, Dean's eyes were starting to burn again.
So he was exhausted. Wasn't helping his eyes at all, hadn't technically slept the night away. Then there'd been Zachariah and his “lesson” to deal with, then calling Sam and telling him they needed to meet up, and the lack of hesitation from Sam when he asked, “Where?” had just about done Dean in after everything. Dean had needed him, and that had been enough for him. Despite the fact that Dean had told him maybe ten, twelve hours before that when Sam needed his big brother, Dean wasn't coming. And seriously, it was so obvious that Sam had all but been pleading outright with him for help, that he was panicking, and Dean had told him no.
And it all led back to not being able to breathe, even with their having made up and Sam not even having given Dean the antapology he absolutely and utterly deserved (and hey, guess he had paid attention to one of Sam's big words) and Sam right there in the seat next to him. Not wearing white (and if Sam ever thought of buying anything white again Dean would kick his ass) and with his hair not slicked back but all over the place like he hadn't combed it, just ran out the door to get to Dean, and suddenly Dean couldn't breathe again.
He glanced around but the road was empty. A half second later he slid the car over to the right side of the road, then threw it in park. “Dean?” Sam asked, sounding completely perplexed. “Are you okay? What's-”
“Out of the car,” Dean said, already climbing out of his side. He made his way around to the passenger side where Sam was staring at him through the window. Dean made a 'hurry-up' gesture with his hand, and Sam opened the car door and slowly stepped out. The kid looked nervous, no, scared, and suddenly Dean realized Sam was expecting him to have changed his mind. That he didn't really want to be back with Sam, and that was all Dean needed to get moving.
Sam was looking at his feet as Dean approached him fast. “Could you, um, at least drop me off at the next to-” and then he was cut off by Dean wrapping his arms around his little brother and hanging on like his life depended on it.
Because this, this, had been what his future self hadn't understood, why his older self had gone batshit insane with the cold -heartedness. And he realized that it wasn't because Sam had been dead, it was because Sam just hadn't been there, period. Even if Sam had been alive, Dean had no doubt in his mind that without his little brother there, that was what Dean would eventually turn into. He needed Sam, and Sam needed him. They didn't work apart well.
And it hit him two seconds later just why Sam had said yes in Detroit. Because Dean had never gone looking for him, because Dean obviously didn't care, because Dean hadn't been there for him, either. Both of them empty without the other, except Dean hadn't had an angel to hollow him out and rip him from his own mind and body. Sam had, and the thought that Sam had been that desperate to not exist anymore made tears flood over Dean's eyes again.
Sam was still standing still, stunned into paralyzation. “Dean?” he said softly, soft enough that if he hadn't been standing right next to Dean, he didn't think he would've heard him. He sounded absolutely bewildered and still a little lost, and that only made Dean hold on harder.
Before Sam could complain about losing air Dean whispered back, “Sammy,” with all the conviction, trust, love that he could muster. Not a half second later Sam's arms were lifting and wrapping around Dean just as hard, and Dean shut his eyes tight.
Screw Zachariah and his “lesson”. This was what Dean had needed to learn, what Dean had needed to do: get Sammy back into his life and by his side, where he was supposed to be.
“You okay?” Sam whispered, and Dean tried to pull it together enough to let go of Sam. Sam looked less tense now, too, and Dean should've hugged the damn kid after he gave him the knife.
Dean swallowed and rubbed at his eyes, which still begged to burn. Sam waited patiently with a look that was so Sammy and something deep inside finally settled. “Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “I am now.”
Sam didn't attempt a smile until after Dean did, but it was genuine all the same. “I'll tell you later,” Dean said to the unspoken question he knew Sam wouldn't ask. At least, not out loud: kid's eyes were doing a lot of talking on their own. “Promise.”
“Okay,” Sam said, and the ease and acceptance made Dean want to hug him all over again. God but it felt good to have him back. The hell had future him been thinking, not going to look for Sam? He'd always look for Sam, especially if the world was ending. He couldn't think of another person he'd want to make sure was safe in the events of the apocalypse.
Dean took a deep breath and let it out slow. “You okay now?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Dean said, and meant it. “How about you? You okay?”
“I've been doing better since you...you know. Called,” Sam finished, biting his lip. “Even better now then I was before, though.”
Dean nodded towards the car. “Good. Now you can get back in the car.”
“You sure?” Sam asked wryly, and the grin he gave prompted Dean's own lips to slide up. Yeah, that was a real Sammy smile. Not what Lucifer had made his brother's body do.
Things felt good in the car once Dean slid back in. Things felt damn good, and the future could go screw itself and Zachariah while it was at it. And Lucifer especially could choke on something, but not while wearing Sam. Dean refused to let Lucifer close enough to his little brother to ask for his consent, something Dean would also make sure Sam never gave because dammit, Dean would be there. He wouldn't let Sam just fly off on his own and not try to talk to him for, god, five years. No, Dean would do this right, and that started with having Sam back by his side, and possibly included another hugging session later if and when Dean needed it.
It was another twenty minutes after he'd pulled back onto the road that he realized he was breathing again just fine.
END
~Nebula
Title: Need to Breathe
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Post 5x04: The End. Y'all have been warned.
Prompt: #167 - Antapology for tamingthemuse
Disclaimer: Dude don't look at me; I got nothin'.
Wordcount: 1,314
Summary: It was two hours later in the Impala that Dean realized he still couldn't really breathe. That last step to being brothers again.
Warnings: Schmangst, wee bit of h/c, and hugging. HUGGING.
A/N: Totally selfish indulgence about why Dean was crying when he saw Lucifer wearing Sam. Because dammit, I totally believe this is why.
--------------------
It was two hours later in the Impala that Dean realized he still couldn't really breathe.
He was exhausted down to his toes, and he knew he'd been gone technically two days in one night, so yeah, he should be tired. Probably still emotional residue, too, from seeing his future self being so cold and empty, and he'd thought that it was because Sam was dead. Of course his future self wasn't doing okay, had probably been kicking himself in the ass for not talking to Sam or trying to find Sam at all, the stupid dick.
And then there was the emotional remnants from seeing Lucifer wear his little brother with such a soft smile and spinning such lies and knowing that Sam was probably in there somewhere screaming, or worse, Sam was truly gone forever, only his body left, his soul decimated by Lucifer. Lucifer had been so unlike Sam in every way and it had gutted Dean to realize that Sam had said yes to the bastard for some reason. That Sam had been gone and it was just that sonuvabitch left inside and Sam had been gone, and god, Dean's eyes were starting to burn again.
So he was exhausted. Wasn't helping his eyes at all, hadn't technically slept the night away. Then there'd been Zachariah and his “lesson” to deal with, then calling Sam and telling him they needed to meet up, and the lack of hesitation from Sam when he asked, “Where?” had just about done Dean in after everything. Dean had needed him, and that had been enough for him. Despite the fact that Dean had told him maybe ten, twelve hours before that when Sam needed his big brother, Dean wasn't coming. And seriously, it was so obvious that Sam had all but been pleading outright with him for help, that he was panicking, and Dean had told him no.
And it all led back to not being able to breathe, even with their having made up and Sam not even having given Dean the antapology he absolutely and utterly deserved (and hey, guess he had paid attention to one of Sam's big words) and Sam right there in the seat next to him. Not wearing white (and if Sam ever thought of buying anything white again Dean would kick his ass) and with his hair not slicked back but all over the place like he hadn't combed it, just ran out the door to get to Dean, and suddenly Dean couldn't breathe again.
He glanced around but the road was empty. A half second later he slid the car over to the right side of the road, then threw it in park. “Dean?” Sam asked, sounding completely perplexed. “Are you okay? What's-”
“Out of the car,” Dean said, already climbing out of his side. He made his way around to the passenger side where Sam was staring at him through the window. Dean made a 'hurry-up' gesture with his hand, and Sam opened the car door and slowly stepped out. The kid looked nervous, no, scared, and suddenly Dean realized Sam was expecting him to have changed his mind. That he didn't really want to be back with Sam, and that was all Dean needed to get moving.
Sam was looking at his feet as Dean approached him fast. “Could you, um, at least drop me off at the next to-” and then he was cut off by Dean wrapping his arms around his little brother and hanging on like his life depended on it.
Because this, this, had been what his future self hadn't understood, why his older self had gone batshit insane with the cold -heartedness. And he realized that it wasn't because Sam had been dead, it was because Sam just hadn't been there, period. Even if Sam had been alive, Dean had no doubt in his mind that without his little brother there, that was what Dean would eventually turn into. He needed Sam, and Sam needed him. They didn't work apart well.
And it hit him two seconds later just why Sam had said yes in Detroit. Because Dean had never gone looking for him, because Dean obviously didn't care, because Dean hadn't been there for him, either. Both of them empty without the other, except Dean hadn't had an angel to hollow him out and rip him from his own mind and body. Sam had, and the thought that Sam had been that desperate to not exist anymore made tears flood over Dean's eyes again.
Sam was still standing still, stunned into paralyzation. “Dean?” he said softly, soft enough that if he hadn't been standing right next to Dean, he didn't think he would've heard him. He sounded absolutely bewildered and still a little lost, and that only made Dean hold on harder.
Before Sam could complain about losing air Dean whispered back, “Sammy,” with all the conviction, trust, love that he could muster. Not a half second later Sam's arms were lifting and wrapping around Dean just as hard, and Dean shut his eyes tight.
Screw Zachariah and his “lesson”. This was what Dean had needed to learn, what Dean had needed to do: get Sammy back into his life and by his side, where he was supposed to be.
“You okay?” Sam whispered, and Dean tried to pull it together enough to let go of Sam. Sam looked less tense now, too, and Dean should've hugged the damn kid after he gave him the knife.
Dean swallowed and rubbed at his eyes, which still begged to burn. Sam waited patiently with a look that was so Sammy and something deep inside finally settled. “Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “I am now.”
Sam didn't attempt a smile until after Dean did, but it was genuine all the same. “I'll tell you later,” Dean said to the unspoken question he knew Sam wouldn't ask. At least, not out loud: kid's eyes were doing a lot of talking on their own. “Promise.”
“Okay,” Sam said, and the ease and acceptance made Dean want to hug him all over again. God but it felt good to have him back. The hell had future him been thinking, not going to look for Sam? He'd always look for Sam, especially if the world was ending. He couldn't think of another person he'd want to make sure was safe in the events of the apocalypse.
Dean took a deep breath and let it out slow. “You okay now?” Sam asked.
“Yeah,” Dean said, and meant it. “How about you? You okay?”
“I've been doing better since you...you know. Called,” Sam finished, biting his lip. “Even better now then I was before, though.”
Dean nodded towards the car. “Good. Now you can get back in the car.”
“You sure?” Sam asked wryly, and the grin he gave prompted Dean's own lips to slide up. Yeah, that was a real Sammy smile. Not what Lucifer had made his brother's body do.
Things felt good in the car once Dean slid back in. Things felt damn good, and the future could go screw itself and Zachariah while it was at it. And Lucifer especially could choke on something, but not while wearing Sam. Dean refused to let Lucifer close enough to his little brother to ask for his consent, something Dean would also make sure Sam never gave because dammit, Dean would be there. He wouldn't let Sam just fly off on his own and not try to talk to him for, god, five years. No, Dean would do this right, and that started with having Sam back by his side, and possibly included another hugging session later if and when Dean needed it.
It was another twenty minutes after he'd pulled back onto the road that he realized he was breathing again just fine.
END
~Nebula