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Sam ripped himself from the bed and dropped his head in his hands. He couldn’t fall asleep again. Not when his dreams were haunting him night after night. He’d fall asleep and the dream or vision would pick right back up again. The problem was he didn’t know what it was so he couldn’t find a way to stop it, but he knew he never wanted to endure that again. He scrubbed his hands over his face, aching to push this nightmare away. He was tired, it had been 3 days, and he had gotten maybe one good hour of sleep. But sleeping wasn’t sleeping when you were teetering on the edge of a nightmare. Sam could feel it, just around the corner waiting to start up again, and as soon as it did, he’d jolt himself from his sleep and lie awake, scared to be taken back. He saw Dean die, too many times, too many times in the mystery spot, and when the hell hounds claimed him. But never had he seen him go like this. Under his own hands, all his fault. Not only could Sam not save Dean, he couldn’t stop himself from taking Deans last breath from him. Sam has killed before, and sure sometimes it was cold, but he would never kill the one person that kept him here, the one person that grounded him. The only person he was attached to.
Dean was his everything, he pulled him out of his slumps, and Sam pulled Dean out of his. They fought together; side by side. Losing Dean would be the worst thing that could happen, and yet here he was dreaming of doing it himself. “Oh, Dean.” He whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”
He crawled in next to Dean, he knew he wouldn’t catch any sleep but feeling his heat and his body pressed against his own, eased his fears. His fingertips grazed over the strong muscles that were Deans back. He trailed small patterns over and over again, lulling himself into a memory when they first wanted to share a bed together.
“Sammy, come on, please, I can’t sleep without you.”
“Dean, since when can’t you sleep with me? The last time we slept together was when I was twelve, in the ratty motel room, when we had to because dad accidently got one queen instead of two twins.”
“Sam, I need you tonight.”
“Since when Dean? You always fight me, we never see eye to eye, you’ve got girls lined up, invite one of them over!’
“That’s not the point! The point is they don’t know me like you do and they definitely don’t face what we do day in and day out! Damn it, Sam!” He bowed his head. “I just want to feel like I’m fighting for something and you make me feel that way. You protect me, and I protect you, that's the way things work around here. I want to feel safe tonight.” His eyes pleaded.
“You don’t touch me and I won’t touch you.” Sam knew that the last week had been hard for Dean, and the least he could do was let his brother have a restful night. If that meant sleeping next to him, then so be it.
“Fine.” Dean’s voice cracked. What was the point of asking Sam if Dean couldn’t feel his brother’s protective arms around him?
Sam plopped himself on the edge of the bed, sleeping with your brother when you were kids was one thing, but sleeping with him when you were grown ass men was another. His head fell on the pillow, and as little as he would like to admit it, he liked sleeping next to Dean. Knowing that he was sharing the same bed space with him, the same blanket, the same heat, it connected them in a way greater than Sam ever would have guessed.
Sam plunged into sleep, he didn’t dream. He slept deeply, like he hadn’t slept in a week. He woke only when he felt fingers feathering through his hair. “You don’t touch and I don’t.” he sighed. He liked Dean touching him. His fingers found their way to his back, and slowly snaked their way to the top of Sam’s hip, his touch gave him goose bumps. “Dean.” Sam groaned.
“Put your hands on me Sammy.”
Sam turned, facing him. He was sleepy, he wanted to sleep but this he wanted more. “Dean, what are you doing?”
“Just hold me Sam.” Dean’s eyes were low, and as innocent as he looked, Sam knew what was behind those eyes. “God, please.” He begged.
“D, come on, lets sleep okay?”
Dean’s hand crawled up Sam’s neck, and tugged on his hair at the base of his head. “This is me begging you.”
Sam couldn’t hold off anymore not after knowing that Dean not only wanted this, but was actually begging for it. He sluggishly brought his arm around Dean, pulling his body against his own. Pressing his heat against Deans. Dean groaned, pressing his face into the crook of Sam’s neck, while Sam looped his arm tighter around Dean’s waist.
Dean pressed his lips under his jaw, and Sam went rigid. Sam thought he went to far, but he couldn’t deny what he felt stirring deep in the pit of his stomach. Lazily Sam returned the kiss, slow, steady, following the trail from Dean’s shoulder to his taut stomach. “Sam.” Dean mumbled his body shivered under Sam’s smooth lips. Sam didn’t stop there, he followed this trail to the valley of Dean’s hips, stopping short before reaching his boxer briefs.
Sam pulled himself up and turned Dean around, his tight abdomen facing Deans back. “Sleep Dean.” His arm encircled Dean’s waist. Dean sighed. “I’m holding you, now you can sleep.”
“Ok, but Sammy?”
“What D?”
“This didn’t happen.”
“Of course not and because it didn’t happen, it won’t happen again.” Sam muttered, he wanted it to happen but in all ways it wasn’t something that could.
Dean was wounded, it could happen again, and they would pretend it didn’t just like now. But encouraging something to happen again was out of the question. They couldn’t have something disrupt their work, and this would. Dean grumbled.
“Night Dean.”
Sam snapped out of it and he felt Dean shutter under his touch. “What is it Sammy? You haven’t crawled into bed with me for months now.” Dean’s voice was muffled by his pillow, but Sam could hear the sadness clouding his voice.
The first time wasn’t the only time that Dean and Sam had slept together. But after Deans time was up, after he was sent to hell, Sam couldn’t let himself get close to Dean like that again. He couldn’t just in case he lost Dean again, or Dean lost him. Because the closer they got the more they fought to save each other, and the closer they got to both dying.
“It’s nothing. I just missed you.” Sam nuzzled his nose into Dean’s neck. This is what he needed, something familiar that quickly calmed him down. Dean was Sam’s home as much as Sam was Dean’s home.
Dean turned in Sam’s arms, Sam burrowed against him. “Sammy, I know when you’re lying. You’ve been avoiding me like the plague and now all of a sudden you sneak in bed with me in the middle of the night? You haven’t been sleeping. I hear you mumbling, pacing around the room all hours of the night, and then you’re edgy the next day. Sam tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“I can’t tell you Dean, because I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve tried to stop it, and nothing is working.” By instinct, Sam drew away from him, feeling challenged.
“Don’t do that tonight Sammy.” Dean’s voice was panicky, Dean was longing for Sam to sleep next to him, and he wouldn’t let Sam leave now.
“This was a bad idea, it won’t help anything.” Sam scooted to the edge of the bed curling himself in a trembling ball.
“Screw you Sam! You can’t play like that. Here I was hoping I could get to sleep in those arms tonight but you haven’t changed have you?!” Dean bellowed.
Sam sniffled. Dean couldn’t be mad at him tonight, not when Sam was looking forward to finding comfort in him. “Dean, I need you tonight.”
“Then tell me what it is that’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
Sam turned; still trembling he reached his hand out to find Dean, to pull him close. “Dean, I think I’m having a vision of you dying.” Sam buried his head in the pillow, willing it not to be true. “It was like what happened with Jessica, and all those other people, I see you die days before you do, over and over again.”
“Okay, Sam, that’s not so bad, we just find who does it in this vision of yours and kill them.”
“That’s the problem Dean.” Sam grabbed onto Dean like a lifeline, knowing that what he was going to say wasn’t good, he shuddered the next words. “It’s me.”
Sam felt Dean stiffen underneath him. Minutes passed before Sam’s easy caressing pacified his Dean.
“You couldn’t do that. It could be a dream, right?” Deans voice hitched, and Sam could hear his breath wavering.
“I wouldn’t do that, not ever. But dammit Dean, this isn’t like any dream I’ve had before.”
“Sammy…” Dean pressed his lips on Sam’s collarbone, he kissed gently. “If this is the last day-” Sam felt Dean’s lips traveling leisurely up his throat. “I get with you-” Deans lips met Sam’s rough chin. “Lets make it count.” Dean groaned as his lips effortlessly reunited with Sams after months of being apart.