Fic: Night Vision
Dean sets the two pieces down on the bed and starts to feel for the missing parts. Sam wants to tell him that all the skill in the world won’t keep parts from missing, that he’s not going to find the answers buried there in the inner workings of his craft.
That it’s okay to let Sam make the kills, every once in a while. That he can handle it.
“Dean -“
Dean seems to know his thoughts, even if he refuses to look into his eyes. Sam doesn’t have to be able to read Dean’s expression to hear the guilt, as useless as this exercise, threading the layers underneath his words.
“It could’ve killed you, Sammy. What would I …”
Sam sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose to stem the dull ache behind his eyes. There’s no point trying to talk Dean out of things, when he gets like this.
”God, just - hold on,”
Leaning against the Impala, thumbing through the pages of Dad’s journal, praying to the cold stars.
“Sam? Sam,” hands, tugging at his arm, his face.
“I’m right here. It’s dead, it’s dead, just -“
“Sammy, I can’t see.”
Sam takes a seat, watching as Dean reassembles the rifle. It takes him longer than it would have before, but all in all the time is respectable. Sam’s stomach growls. Dean’s been at this for hours.
“Time?”
Sam sighs. “Six minutes.”
“Dammit,” Dean growls, throwing the rifle down. He breathes for a moment, centering himself. Sam can feel the shift of tension in the room when Dean decides to go again.
“Dean, enough,” Sam protests. “You’ve gotta eat, man, and I’m starving over here. Let it go for once.” He throws in the one word he almost never uses with his brother. “Please?”
Dean is so still that Sam starts to wonder if maybe he didn’t hear him, but then he sighs, turning around to face Sam’s voice. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”
Dean pulls off the blindfold, and his eyes are a welcome sight, easing some vague worry that Sam couldn’t quite put a finger on. Sam feels himself smile. “Hi.”
Dean rolls his eyes, tossing the blindfold over his shoulder and pushing past Sam for the door. “Whatever. I might not get so lucky next time.”
Luck had nothing to do with it. Sam knows a lot of things he wished he never needed, but the herbal remedy for monster-venom-induced blindness is one he’s glad he remembered. “Good thing you have me then, I guess,” he says lightly.
Dean stops in the open door to look over his shoulder, serious.
“Yeah. It is.”
Sam nods, taking it for what it’s worth, and follows his brother out into the night.