Fic: Sticking With You (Sam/Dean, R) Part 1
Back to masterpost
****
*****
At first, Sam was just relieved that he’d been able to figure out that all those weird visions that he’d been having weren’t his own. They were just Chuck’s memories or scribbles or whatever. After seeing all that stuff though, all the horrifyingly creative ways he had killed Dean or vice versa, Sam didn’t think he’d ever get a chance to truly feel hopeful again. He knew that he probably should have been angry at Dean for haring off on that hunt all by himself right at the moment when he’d needed him to be there. Sure, Dean had been strangely huffy over the whole Eileen thing, but still. If Dean had been there at the bunker, then Sergei wouldn’t have been in their home, roaming around free range style, completely unsupervised, and then stealing the Key to Death, whatever the hell that was?
Sam had no idea they’d even possessed something called the Key To Death much less what the hell the thing even was meant for. With the way their luck (or non-luck) was going, he knew they’d probably be needing it to kill Chuck if it ever came down to that. He hoped that at some point, he’d get a chance to take Sergei out for good. Cas should never have let him roam around the bunker like that with no supervision.
Eileen told him about how creepy the guy was, but she’d been more focused on keeping Sam alive, which he was of course very thankful for. But what else did that creepazoid guy do, or touch, or take away with him besides the Key to Death thing? They just didn’t know for sure, so Sam had to spend way too much time re-cataloging, cleaning and honestly sanitizing everything in the place, just in case. Yeah, it’d be good to have a chance to take Sergei out for good, so Sam didn’t ever have to worry about him coming into their home again. He still didn’t get why Cas ever relied on the guy, it’s not like he was remotely trustworthy or even reliable in the “help” he had provided.
Sam never found a way to bring any of this up with Dean over the next few weeks. He thought and obsessed about the soul stretching and the whole soulmate thing as well as the Sergei thing, but he didn’t talk about any of it with Dean or anyone else. He might have spilled his guts if Rowena or even Mary had been around, but they were both dead and gone. And now Eileen was gone too, off on her own, even if Sam hadn’t felt like she was really quite ready to be safe hunting alone. It hadn’t been up to him to decide or even insist that she stay, so she had left anyway without a big discussion. In the end, it was probably for the best, especially for her. Sam definitely didn’t want to try to describe his soulmate situation with Dean to her. He was pretty sure she would never understand in a million years, or would at least greatly misinterpret what he meant.
Because they were not like that, he and Dean. Sure, they knew they were soulmates but they weren’t soulmates in that romantic sort of way that everyone seemed to assume. Eileen had already been saying stuff about not wanting to come between he and Dean, and well, she had been absolutely right about that, and now she was gone. Problem solved. And yeah, probably for the better for a whole lot of reasons. Now that Cas was back and finally hanging around with them again, Sam almost unloaded his troubles on him. But then he remembered, that Cas didn’t even have his own soul so he wouldn’t be able to commiserate or understand in the way Sam needed. There was no one for Sam to talk to, so he kept his soulmate conclusions to himself.
The soulmate conclusions, or guesses, or whatever you would want to call them. It was a lot for Sam to carry all on his own, this new realization that their souls were so thoroughly intertwined that he had nearly died because Dean wasn’t there. He didn’t know how Dean would react to knowing something like that, it was hard to even imagine really. At least Sam’s soul was no longer tethered to Chuck, and as long as Dean stuck around, they’d both probably be okay. Sam knew that it wasn’t fair to keep this new information from Dean. He should know the truth, but Sam didn’t want to put that burden on his brother at the moment. Not now, not when everything else was so damn shitty.
****
On their long drive home from Alaska, somewhere in there on the long second day of driving, Sam finally spilled what he’d been holding inside. Late at night when they were talking about everything and nothing. Their time-tested technique to make sure that Dean would stay awake enough to keep on driving that last hundred miles.
Sam was never sure when he looked back on that moment, why he had opened his mouth and spilled. But there was no denying that once he had, everything…everything changed.
“You know when you were gone on that hunt, with your friend Lee?” Sam asked.
“You mean, the hunt where I had to kill Lee, and then I came back home and you’d almost died while I was gone? Yeah, I remember that one, little hard to forget,” Dean said.
“I thought you should know-I figured out something really important. It’s about us and our souls. I was able to work it out because of what happened to me,” Sam said.
“Something about our souls, like what? Let me guess, they’re as torn up and ragged as we are now, how close am I?” Dean asked with a one-sided grin.
“No, nothing like that, I have no clue about how torn up our souls are compared to how we look on our exteriors. Doubt that’s even related,” Sam said.
“Well, what about them then?” Dean asked.
“It has to do with how my soul was being stretched. The way Cas described it, my soul was stretching because it was attached to Chuck via the bullet. The whole time that I had the stupid thing stuck in my shoulder, my soul kept getting stretched and overstretched.”
“Yeah, and, what’s that have to do with me and my soul?” Dean asked, fingers flexing and stretching on the steering wheel, first the right, then the left, just like always.
“Well, when you came back home from that hunt on your own, I got better just about instantly. It didn’t make much sense to me at first, because nothing else had happened to change the situation, besides you finally showing up.”
“Maybe it was what Cas or Sergei did, or having Eileen there that helped. I showed up pretty much after all the excitement was over.”
“You did, but I could feel it when you came back home, Dean. I could feel it all through my whole body and I didn’t know what the hell it was and then you walked through the infirmary door-and it all made sense.”
“What did?” Dean asked.
“I’m pretty sure it’s because our souls are connected or intertwined, somehow because of the whole soulmate thing. Don’t ask me for specifics on it, I’m not sure yet and I haven’t been able to find anything in the lore.”
“There’s lore on soulmates?” Dean asked.
Sam was surprised that this was Dean’s question, out of all the things he could have asked about the soulmate issue. They had never talked about it, what Ash had told them all those years ago when they had visited their Heaven, the whole concept of Winchesterland and all that. They’d never brought it up, not once. But in this moment, Dean not even questioning whether or not they were indeed soulmates, that was basically what Sam had needed to know. His brother had apparently just accepted it as a fact about them, otherwise Dean would have challenged him on it right then and there.
But Sam still had to answer the question that Dean had asked, right here and right now. “There is lore about soulmates, yeah a whole lot of it actually. But the actual specifics or mechanics of souls being attached is an entirely theoretical model that no one has made much actual practical study of because it’s…well it’s pretty hard to get people to agree to have their souls examined.”
“I remember how much it hurt you when Cas examined you when you were soulless. Not a surprise people wouldn’t sign up for that.”
“That and there aren’t a whole lot of soulmates out there to even ask. Turns out, it’s incredibly rare.”
“Awww, we’re so special,” Dean teased.
“Yeah, yeah we are,” Sam said, sitting up a little straighter in his seat, feeling a rush of something warm in his belly. It made it more important that he get this across to Dean clearly. “And that’s why I was hit so hard when you were gone and Sergei did that stupid spell. I was…no my soul was attached to you and also to Chuck, and you were both too far away, and it was too much stretching.”
“You mean that was what almost killed you, your soul being stretched like that?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, I mean I don’t remember the specifics of what happened, but that’s what Cas and Eileen said,” Sam said.
“Me being gone, that was enough to almost kill you?” Dean asked, voice clipped and short, trying to hide the rush of emotion plain on his face, even in the dark interior of their car.
“It wasn’t just that you were gone, but it was because I was also connected to Chuck at the same time. Cas said that the human soul can only stretch so far, and for so long, and that day it was too much for mine, such as it is after all that’s happened to it.”
“Sammy, c’mon, don’t do that. Just don’t,” Dean said.
Sam stared at him, completely unclear on what Dean was saying.
“Dude, listen to me. I’ve seen your soul, and it’s…I don’t know if I can do it justice trying to describe it. It’s fucking beautiful, most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.”
Sam wracked his brain, when had Dean ever seen, oh…oh no. “You mean, when Death was putting my s-“
“Yeah, I couldn’t help myself, Bobby tried to pull me away, but I saw it when he put it back into you, and it was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. It was this beautiful, amazing light that was somehow you, like the essence of you.”
“Sounds like an 80’s perfume ad,” Sam said, trying to defuse the impact of what and how Dean was talking about his raggedy-ass soul.
“No…I’m not joking, dude, it was you. Sammy, it was you, but made of this beautiful light. I almost couldn’t look at but I couldn’t look away from it either. Death held you in his hand and then…you-you just came back, it was like you were gone, and then you re-inhabited the body that had been bopping around without you in it.”
“You never said anything about this, I didn’t know,” Sam said.
“Yeah, well, I was pretty excited it even worked, for a while,” Dean said. “You were finally back, all the way back. And there was that whole don’t scratch the wall thing we had to worry about, so I didn’t ever bring it up. But now that you tell me all this about our souls, no wonder I felt so damn awful, when you were…you know, down there all that time. It wasn’t just that I was grieving or sad, because it was so much worse.”
“It’s a long way for a soul to stretch all the way down to the Cage, I hadn’t even thought of that. But, yeah no kidding that would hurt. Now that I think about it, pretty much the same thing with me when you were in Hell,” Sam said.
“I don’t want to ever, I mean if I can help it, I don’t want to ever do that again,” Dean said.
“What, go back to Hell? Yeah, same here, me either,” Sam said.
“No-well yeah, of course that, but what I really meant was…I don’t ever want to be apart from you like that. Not if it’s putting you in danger or hurting you.”
“It hurts you too though, that’s the thing and I honestly think it’s a cumulative thing. We chalk it up to oh we’re getting older, that kind of thing, but it’s not like that, not at all, Dean. When we’re together, I feel like I can deal, like I can kick it in the ass like we always do. But when we’re not together, it’s not a guaranteed proposition any more.”
Dean was quiet for a while and then made a small ‘huh’ sound. “It’s like that Velvet Underground song,” Dean said.
“Velvet Underground?”
“Yeah, you know, Lou Reed and all of them, look it up on your phone and play it, it’s a song called ‘I’m Sticking With You’.”
Sam searched and held up his phone so Dean could hear it. “This would be so much easier if you’d just let me put in a new stereo with bluetooth,” Sam said.
“Ssh, it’s starting,” Dean said with a smile that Sam was pretty sure he’d never seen on Dean’s face before.
The song began, such a sweet and simple tune, Sam could barely believe his brother even knew the name of this song, much less who’d performed the thing. The beautiful harmonies at the end and the pureness of the sentiment of the words washed over Sam, and he felt so happy inside and out. Was this how Dean felt about them?
“Is that how you feel, about the whole soulmates thing?” Sam finally let himself ask, once the song’s last notes had faded out.
Dean nodded, a red blush creeping up his neck to stain his cheeks. He was, and always had been, the most beautiful fucking person Sam had ever seen. And now with that blush and that new smile, Sam could barley stand it.
“That’s a sweet song, I’ve never heard it,” Sam said, giving Dean an out by changing the subject.
“It’s on an album of Velvet Underground outtakes, doesn’t get played much on the radio or anything,” Dean said.
“How’d you even hear it then?” Sam asked.
“Uh, I had a friend back in high school that was into raiding his parent’s vinyl collection. We always played the album whenever he had some weed. I can remember all the songs in order, that’s the last one on the second side. It always used to make me think of you.”
“Like you said to Fortuna, you’re not a beach read, you’re Tolstoy,” Sam said, his mouth hanging open in awe.
“What? Oh you remember that?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t like her saying that to you. I was about to tell her to cut it out, because she had no freaking clue. But I didn’t have to defend you, because you came up with that awesome retort.”
“All on my own, amazing right?” Dean snarked.
“Not what I meant, but yeah, it was. And it’s really fucking true too, it made me happy to hear you say something like that about yourself for once,” Sam said.
“Made you happy, how?” Dean asked.
“Well, usually you’re pretty down on yourself, and it was good to hear you talk yourself up for once,” Sam said.
“Well, I am pretty damn awesome,” Dean said.
“You are a lot of things, including that, yeah,” Sam said.
“What else am I?” Dean asked with a curious and open face that told Sam he probably meant it.
“Really, you want a real true answer from me here?” Sam asked.
“We’re driving through the dark night, days away from getting home, and I need to stay awake. So yeah, guess it’s truth telling time, little brother,” Dean said.
Sam couldn’t help the little shiver that passed through him at Dean’s words. “Okay then, you are awesome a lot of the time, and also frustrating as hell sometimes, especially when you’re being stubborn. You care very deeply about other people and think that you’re really good at hiding it. Sometimes it makes me feel bad in comparison. Because to me, you’re the only thing, no, the only person I really care about.”
“That’s not true though, just back there with Fortuna, you were betting our whole lives on those nobodies at the bar,” Dean objected.
“That’s different, that’s the job, I learned that from you,” Sam said.
“No, it’s not the job, you’ve made it the job. I was ready to take the luck we won and run with it. You’re the reason we stayed, Sam. You’re the reason Fortuna gave in and made things right for all those folks.”
“Fine, okay, but that self-sacrificing thing-I definitely learned that from you.”
“Okay, sure, but continue telling me about what I am,” Dean said.
“You really want to hear more, huh?”
Dean nodded, a small smile fleeting across his lips.
“You are also the strongest person I know, and I don’t mean physically, even though you are very strong that way too,” Sam said.
“You’re kinda rambling there, Sammy,” Dean said with a smirk.
“When you call me that, did you know your whole face changes?” Sam asked.
“It does?” Dean asked, sounding completely surprised, like he’d been caught at something he’d tried to keep hidden.
“Yep, and I’m pretty sure mine does something similar when I say your name,” Sam said.
“Why?” Dean asked.
“C’mon, think about it a little,” Sam encouraged.
“I guess Sammy means a lot of things, besides it just being one version of your name, it’s your childhood nickname too,” Dean said.
“Yes, and…” Sam said, making the circling hand ‘do go on’ motion.
“You know you do the same thing, with my name, you say it a million different ways, and i just kinda know which is which. Dean vs Deaaaan vs Deeeean all mean different things,” Dean said.
“They absolutely do, you’re right. I guess it’s how two people who’ve been together for so long communicate. Or at least how we do it,” Sam observed.
“We have been…uh, together for a really long time now, haven’t we?” Dean asked.
“It has been a while, yeah. That’s why I see more than I’m probably supposed to, when I look at you. Definitely a lot more than other people do, I guess because of how close we are. Sometimes…I worry about how much energy you put into hiding yourself from me. The pain, all the loss, everything, it’s a lot. And I’m right there next to you doing the same damn thing.”
“It’s exhausting isn’t it?” Dean asked.
“That it is,” Sam said.
“Think we could stop?” Dean asked.
“Stop hiding it, at least from each other, you mean?” Sam asked.
“Seems like it’d be worth a try, maybe it would help with the soul thing,” Dean suggested.
“It probably would help, yeah, let’s try it. I will if you will,” Sam offered.
Dean took his right hand off the steering wheel and held it out to Sam to shake. Sam joined their hands together, suppressing the shiver that went through him at their connection. Dean’s hand warm and strong around his, the brief comfort washed over him as they shook on it. “Cards on the table time, from here on out,” Sam said.
“Deal,” Dean said, looking at him for a few beats too long for someone who was driving.
So what was new? Dean always did that. Sam smiled, shook Dean’s hand one more time and reluctantly let it go. “Deal,” Sam said, “Now, c’mon, eyes on the road, remember you’re the one driving.”
Dean winked and reoriented himself to be facing forwards. There was still a smile on his brother’s face, and Sam couldn’t help it, he kept smiling too. Something was lighter between them, maybe it would be better. Maybe it would stay better for more than just a little while.
They fell into a companionable silence then, the one that Sam always appreciated so much for how at-home it made him feel. That comfort of being together with his brother and not having to make small talk and fill the space. Just the familiar music on the radio, the dark night splashed with occasional lights from the small towns well off the highway.
Dean finally got tired of driving when they were still at least eight hours north of Calgary, so Sam looked up the closest motel and gave him directions. They pulled into the bright parking lot of the Dewey Inn, blinking at the banks of lights overhead when they both got out of the car and stretched.
“I’ll just go and…uh, get us a room,” Sam said, feeling the awkwardness of being out of their little bubble made for two and out in the real world. Dean looked like he was about to say something, his face seemed to be sort of opening up, and Sam felt some hope well up, that what they’d said in the car counted out here too. That it’d finally get followed up on and worked out in the real world.
But Dean finally just nodded, pulling the gates closed back over his face and shutting down the bare beginnings of openness.
Once Sam had the room key in hand, he stepped back out into the night that might as well have been day for how bright the parking lot was. The light around Dean’s head halo-ed and shone, almost like it was caressing the skin of his face. Beautiful, Sam thought to himself with a sigh for at least the hundredth time that day. Dean had the bags next to the car and Sam led him over to their room on the end furthest away from the motel office. Down on the first floor of course, out of long habit, that’s what they had always chosen if possible. That old training from their father, from way back when, still made a lot of sense.
It was even more awkward inside the room because they could really see each other’s faces and expressions. Sam had hoped that after all that dark of the night shared intimacy in the car there would be some hope of continuing the conversations they’d started. There was a lot to talk about, their future and the big question of whether it was going to be them sticking together or something else. He gave up even hoping for further conversation once Dean got the bottle of whisky out of his duffel bag and started drinking without even offering him a shot.
Sam headed to the bathroom for a long and uncomfortable shower-alone.
****
To Part 2
****
*****
At first, Sam was just relieved that he’d been able to figure out that all those weird visions that he’d been having weren’t his own. They were just Chuck’s memories or scribbles or whatever. After seeing all that stuff though, all the horrifyingly creative ways he had killed Dean or vice versa, Sam didn’t think he’d ever get a chance to truly feel hopeful again. He knew that he probably should have been angry at Dean for haring off on that hunt all by himself right at the moment when he’d needed him to be there. Sure, Dean had been strangely huffy over the whole Eileen thing, but still. If Dean had been there at the bunker, then Sergei wouldn’t have been in their home, roaming around free range style, completely unsupervised, and then stealing the Key to Death, whatever the hell that was?
Sam had no idea they’d even possessed something called the Key To Death much less what the hell the thing even was meant for. With the way their luck (or non-luck) was going, he knew they’d probably be needing it to kill Chuck if it ever came down to that. He hoped that at some point, he’d get a chance to take Sergei out for good. Cas should never have let him roam around the bunker like that with no supervision.
Eileen told him about how creepy the guy was, but she’d been more focused on keeping Sam alive, which he was of course very thankful for. But what else did that creepazoid guy do, or touch, or take away with him besides the Key to Death thing? They just didn’t know for sure, so Sam had to spend way too much time re-cataloging, cleaning and honestly sanitizing everything in the place, just in case. Yeah, it’d be good to have a chance to take Sergei out for good, so Sam didn’t ever have to worry about him coming into their home again. He still didn’t get why Cas ever relied on the guy, it’s not like he was remotely trustworthy or even reliable in the “help” he had provided.
Sam never found a way to bring any of this up with Dean over the next few weeks. He thought and obsessed about the soul stretching and the whole soulmate thing as well as the Sergei thing, but he didn’t talk about any of it with Dean or anyone else. He might have spilled his guts if Rowena or even Mary had been around, but they were both dead and gone. And now Eileen was gone too, off on her own, even if Sam hadn’t felt like she was really quite ready to be safe hunting alone. It hadn’t been up to him to decide or even insist that she stay, so she had left anyway without a big discussion. In the end, it was probably for the best, especially for her. Sam definitely didn’t want to try to describe his soulmate situation with Dean to her. He was pretty sure she would never understand in a million years, or would at least greatly misinterpret what he meant.
Because they were not like that, he and Dean. Sure, they knew they were soulmates but they weren’t soulmates in that romantic sort of way that everyone seemed to assume. Eileen had already been saying stuff about not wanting to come between he and Dean, and well, she had been absolutely right about that, and now she was gone. Problem solved. And yeah, probably for the better for a whole lot of reasons. Now that Cas was back and finally hanging around with them again, Sam almost unloaded his troubles on him. But then he remembered, that Cas didn’t even have his own soul so he wouldn’t be able to commiserate or understand in the way Sam needed. There was no one for Sam to talk to, so he kept his soulmate conclusions to himself.
The soulmate conclusions, or guesses, or whatever you would want to call them. It was a lot for Sam to carry all on his own, this new realization that their souls were so thoroughly intertwined that he had nearly died because Dean wasn’t there. He didn’t know how Dean would react to knowing something like that, it was hard to even imagine really. At least Sam’s soul was no longer tethered to Chuck, and as long as Dean stuck around, they’d both probably be okay. Sam knew that it wasn’t fair to keep this new information from Dean. He should know the truth, but Sam didn’t want to put that burden on his brother at the moment. Not now, not when everything else was so damn shitty.
****
On their long drive home from Alaska, somewhere in there on the long second day of driving, Sam finally spilled what he’d been holding inside. Late at night when they were talking about everything and nothing. Their time-tested technique to make sure that Dean would stay awake enough to keep on driving that last hundred miles.
Sam was never sure when he looked back on that moment, why he had opened his mouth and spilled. But there was no denying that once he had, everything…everything changed.
“You know when you were gone on that hunt, with your friend Lee?” Sam asked.
“You mean, the hunt where I had to kill Lee, and then I came back home and you’d almost died while I was gone? Yeah, I remember that one, little hard to forget,” Dean said.
“I thought you should know-I figured out something really important. It’s about us and our souls. I was able to work it out because of what happened to me,” Sam said.
“Something about our souls, like what? Let me guess, they’re as torn up and ragged as we are now, how close am I?” Dean asked with a one-sided grin.
“No, nothing like that, I have no clue about how torn up our souls are compared to how we look on our exteriors. Doubt that’s even related,” Sam said.
“Well, what about them then?” Dean asked.
“It has to do with how my soul was being stretched. The way Cas described it, my soul was stretching because it was attached to Chuck via the bullet. The whole time that I had the stupid thing stuck in my shoulder, my soul kept getting stretched and overstretched.”
“Yeah, and, what’s that have to do with me and my soul?” Dean asked, fingers flexing and stretching on the steering wheel, first the right, then the left, just like always.
“Well, when you came back home from that hunt on your own, I got better just about instantly. It didn’t make much sense to me at first, because nothing else had happened to change the situation, besides you finally showing up.”
“Maybe it was what Cas or Sergei did, or having Eileen there that helped. I showed up pretty much after all the excitement was over.”
“You did, but I could feel it when you came back home, Dean. I could feel it all through my whole body and I didn’t know what the hell it was and then you walked through the infirmary door-and it all made sense.”
“What did?” Dean asked.
“I’m pretty sure it’s because our souls are connected or intertwined, somehow because of the whole soulmate thing. Don’t ask me for specifics on it, I’m not sure yet and I haven’t been able to find anything in the lore.”
“There’s lore on soulmates?” Dean asked.
Sam was surprised that this was Dean’s question, out of all the things he could have asked about the soulmate issue. They had never talked about it, what Ash had told them all those years ago when they had visited their Heaven, the whole concept of Winchesterland and all that. They’d never brought it up, not once. But in this moment, Dean not even questioning whether or not they were indeed soulmates, that was basically what Sam had needed to know. His brother had apparently just accepted it as a fact about them, otherwise Dean would have challenged him on it right then and there.
But Sam still had to answer the question that Dean had asked, right here and right now. “There is lore about soulmates, yeah a whole lot of it actually. But the actual specifics or mechanics of souls being attached is an entirely theoretical model that no one has made much actual practical study of because it’s…well it’s pretty hard to get people to agree to have their souls examined.”
“I remember how much it hurt you when Cas examined you when you were soulless. Not a surprise people wouldn’t sign up for that.”
“That and there aren’t a whole lot of soulmates out there to even ask. Turns out, it’s incredibly rare.”
“Awww, we’re so special,” Dean teased.
“Yeah, yeah we are,” Sam said, sitting up a little straighter in his seat, feeling a rush of something warm in his belly. It made it more important that he get this across to Dean clearly. “And that’s why I was hit so hard when you were gone and Sergei did that stupid spell. I was…no my soul was attached to you and also to Chuck, and you were both too far away, and it was too much stretching.”
“You mean that was what almost killed you, your soul being stretched like that?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, I mean I don’t remember the specifics of what happened, but that’s what Cas and Eileen said,” Sam said.
“Me being gone, that was enough to almost kill you?” Dean asked, voice clipped and short, trying to hide the rush of emotion plain on his face, even in the dark interior of their car.
“It wasn’t just that you were gone, but it was because I was also connected to Chuck at the same time. Cas said that the human soul can only stretch so far, and for so long, and that day it was too much for mine, such as it is after all that’s happened to it.”
“Sammy, c’mon, don’t do that. Just don’t,” Dean said.
Sam stared at him, completely unclear on what Dean was saying.
“Dude, listen to me. I’ve seen your soul, and it’s…I don’t know if I can do it justice trying to describe it. It’s fucking beautiful, most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.”
Sam wracked his brain, when had Dean ever seen, oh…oh no. “You mean, when Death was putting my s-“
“Yeah, I couldn’t help myself, Bobby tried to pull me away, but I saw it when he put it back into you, and it was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. It was this beautiful, amazing light that was somehow you, like the essence of you.”
“Sounds like an 80’s perfume ad,” Sam said, trying to defuse the impact of what and how Dean was talking about his raggedy-ass soul.
“No…I’m not joking, dude, it was you. Sammy, it was you, but made of this beautiful light. I almost couldn’t look at but I couldn’t look away from it either. Death held you in his hand and then…you-you just came back, it was like you were gone, and then you re-inhabited the body that had been bopping around without you in it.”
“You never said anything about this, I didn’t know,” Sam said.
“Yeah, well, I was pretty excited it even worked, for a while,” Dean said. “You were finally back, all the way back. And there was that whole don’t scratch the wall thing we had to worry about, so I didn’t ever bring it up. But now that you tell me all this about our souls, no wonder I felt so damn awful, when you were…you know, down there all that time. It wasn’t just that I was grieving or sad, because it was so much worse.”
“It’s a long way for a soul to stretch all the way down to the Cage, I hadn’t even thought of that. But, yeah no kidding that would hurt. Now that I think about it, pretty much the same thing with me when you were in Hell,” Sam said.
“I don’t want to ever, I mean if I can help it, I don’t want to ever do that again,” Dean said.
“What, go back to Hell? Yeah, same here, me either,” Sam said.
“No-well yeah, of course that, but what I really meant was…I don’t ever want to be apart from you like that. Not if it’s putting you in danger or hurting you.”
“It hurts you too though, that’s the thing and I honestly think it’s a cumulative thing. We chalk it up to oh we’re getting older, that kind of thing, but it’s not like that, not at all, Dean. When we’re together, I feel like I can deal, like I can kick it in the ass like we always do. But when we’re not together, it’s not a guaranteed proposition any more.”
Dean was quiet for a while and then made a small ‘huh’ sound. “It’s like that Velvet Underground song,” Dean said.
“Velvet Underground?”
“Yeah, you know, Lou Reed and all of them, look it up on your phone and play it, it’s a song called ‘I’m Sticking With You’.”
Sam searched and held up his phone so Dean could hear it. “This would be so much easier if you’d just let me put in a new stereo with bluetooth,” Sam said.
“Ssh, it’s starting,” Dean said with a smile that Sam was pretty sure he’d never seen on Dean’s face before.
The song began, such a sweet and simple tune, Sam could barely believe his brother even knew the name of this song, much less who’d performed the thing. The beautiful harmonies at the end and the pureness of the sentiment of the words washed over Sam, and he felt so happy inside and out. Was this how Dean felt about them?
“Is that how you feel, about the whole soulmates thing?” Sam finally let himself ask, once the song’s last notes had faded out.
Dean nodded, a red blush creeping up his neck to stain his cheeks. He was, and always had been, the most beautiful fucking person Sam had ever seen. And now with that blush and that new smile, Sam could barley stand it.
“That’s a sweet song, I’ve never heard it,” Sam said, giving Dean an out by changing the subject.
“It’s on an album of Velvet Underground outtakes, doesn’t get played much on the radio or anything,” Dean said.
“How’d you even hear it then?” Sam asked.
“Uh, I had a friend back in high school that was into raiding his parent’s vinyl collection. We always played the album whenever he had some weed. I can remember all the songs in order, that’s the last one on the second side. It always used to make me think of you.”
“Like you said to Fortuna, you’re not a beach read, you’re Tolstoy,” Sam said, his mouth hanging open in awe.
“What? Oh you remember that?” Dean asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t like her saying that to you. I was about to tell her to cut it out, because she had no freaking clue. But I didn’t have to defend you, because you came up with that awesome retort.”
“All on my own, amazing right?” Dean snarked.
“Not what I meant, but yeah, it was. And it’s really fucking true too, it made me happy to hear you say something like that about yourself for once,” Sam said.
“Made you happy, how?” Dean asked.
“Well, usually you’re pretty down on yourself, and it was good to hear you talk yourself up for once,” Sam said.
“Well, I am pretty damn awesome,” Dean said.
“You are a lot of things, including that, yeah,” Sam said.
“What else am I?” Dean asked with a curious and open face that told Sam he probably meant it.
“Really, you want a real true answer from me here?” Sam asked.
“We’re driving through the dark night, days away from getting home, and I need to stay awake. So yeah, guess it’s truth telling time, little brother,” Dean said.
Sam couldn’t help the little shiver that passed through him at Dean’s words. “Okay then, you are awesome a lot of the time, and also frustrating as hell sometimes, especially when you’re being stubborn. You care very deeply about other people and think that you’re really good at hiding it. Sometimes it makes me feel bad in comparison. Because to me, you’re the only thing, no, the only person I really care about.”
“That’s not true though, just back there with Fortuna, you were betting our whole lives on those nobodies at the bar,” Dean objected.
“That’s different, that’s the job, I learned that from you,” Sam said.
“No, it’s not the job, you’ve made it the job. I was ready to take the luck we won and run with it. You’re the reason we stayed, Sam. You’re the reason Fortuna gave in and made things right for all those folks.”
“Fine, okay, but that self-sacrificing thing-I definitely learned that from you.”
“Okay, sure, but continue telling me about what I am,” Dean said.
“You really want to hear more, huh?”
Dean nodded, a small smile fleeting across his lips.
“You are also the strongest person I know, and I don’t mean physically, even though you are very strong that way too,” Sam said.
“You’re kinda rambling there, Sammy,” Dean said with a smirk.
“When you call me that, did you know your whole face changes?” Sam asked.
“It does?” Dean asked, sounding completely surprised, like he’d been caught at something he’d tried to keep hidden.
“Yep, and I’m pretty sure mine does something similar when I say your name,” Sam said.
“Why?” Dean asked.
“C’mon, think about it a little,” Sam encouraged.
“I guess Sammy means a lot of things, besides it just being one version of your name, it’s your childhood nickname too,” Dean said.
“Yes, and…” Sam said, making the circling hand ‘do go on’ motion.
“You know you do the same thing, with my name, you say it a million different ways, and i just kinda know which is which. Dean vs Deaaaan vs Deeeean all mean different things,” Dean said.
“They absolutely do, you’re right. I guess it’s how two people who’ve been together for so long communicate. Or at least how we do it,” Sam observed.
“We have been…uh, together for a really long time now, haven’t we?” Dean asked.
“It has been a while, yeah. That’s why I see more than I’m probably supposed to, when I look at you. Definitely a lot more than other people do, I guess because of how close we are. Sometimes…I worry about how much energy you put into hiding yourself from me. The pain, all the loss, everything, it’s a lot. And I’m right there next to you doing the same damn thing.”
“It’s exhausting isn’t it?” Dean asked.
“That it is,” Sam said.
“Think we could stop?” Dean asked.
“Stop hiding it, at least from each other, you mean?” Sam asked.
“Seems like it’d be worth a try, maybe it would help with the soul thing,” Dean suggested.
“It probably would help, yeah, let’s try it. I will if you will,” Sam offered.
Dean took his right hand off the steering wheel and held it out to Sam to shake. Sam joined their hands together, suppressing the shiver that went through him at their connection. Dean’s hand warm and strong around his, the brief comfort washed over him as they shook on it. “Cards on the table time, from here on out,” Sam said.
“Deal,” Dean said, looking at him for a few beats too long for someone who was driving.
So what was new? Dean always did that. Sam smiled, shook Dean’s hand one more time and reluctantly let it go. “Deal,” Sam said, “Now, c’mon, eyes on the road, remember you’re the one driving.”
Dean winked and reoriented himself to be facing forwards. There was still a smile on his brother’s face, and Sam couldn’t help it, he kept smiling too. Something was lighter between them, maybe it would be better. Maybe it would stay better for more than just a little while.
They fell into a companionable silence then, the one that Sam always appreciated so much for how at-home it made him feel. That comfort of being together with his brother and not having to make small talk and fill the space. Just the familiar music on the radio, the dark night splashed with occasional lights from the small towns well off the highway.
Dean finally got tired of driving when they were still at least eight hours north of Calgary, so Sam looked up the closest motel and gave him directions. They pulled into the bright parking lot of the Dewey Inn, blinking at the banks of lights overhead when they both got out of the car and stretched.
“I’ll just go and…uh, get us a room,” Sam said, feeling the awkwardness of being out of their little bubble made for two and out in the real world. Dean looked like he was about to say something, his face seemed to be sort of opening up, and Sam felt some hope well up, that what they’d said in the car counted out here too. That it’d finally get followed up on and worked out in the real world.
But Dean finally just nodded, pulling the gates closed back over his face and shutting down the bare beginnings of openness.
Once Sam had the room key in hand, he stepped back out into the night that might as well have been day for how bright the parking lot was. The light around Dean’s head halo-ed and shone, almost like it was caressing the skin of his face. Beautiful, Sam thought to himself with a sigh for at least the hundredth time that day. Dean had the bags next to the car and Sam led him over to their room on the end furthest away from the motel office. Down on the first floor of course, out of long habit, that’s what they had always chosen if possible. That old training from their father, from way back when, still made a lot of sense.
It was even more awkward inside the room because they could really see each other’s faces and expressions. Sam had hoped that after all that dark of the night shared intimacy in the car there would be some hope of continuing the conversations they’d started. There was a lot to talk about, their future and the big question of whether it was going to be them sticking together or something else. He gave up even hoping for further conversation once Dean got the bottle of whisky out of his duffel bag and started drinking without even offering him a shot.
Sam headed to the bathroom for a long and uncomfortable shower-alone.
****
To Part 2