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Summary:

This was my Valentine's Day entry for Wincest Love Week.
I'm thinking about expanding on this premise but then I'm lazy.

Work Text:

Dean flipped the last of the blueberry pancakes onto a plate, adding a pat of butter to each one in the stack.

He always made Sam blueberry pancakes on Valentine’s Day. It was a tradition he had started because he had remembered his mother making them for him on the last Valentine’s Day she was alive.

It was like passing on a little bit of Mom on to his brother.

These days tradition and routine were essential to Sam’s recovery.

Eight months ago, Sam had walked into a convenience store to buy chewing gum and a six-pack and had taken one shot to the head and another to the chest. After surviving everything, including the apocalypse and Hell, Sam had almost been done in by some teenager high on crack.

Irony, thy name is Winchester.

The angels were gone, back to heaven, where interference in human events was forbidden so he hadn’t even bothered with prayer.

Sam had spent 12 days in a coma and woke with no memory of who he was or his past. He had to learn to walk and talk again and, after months of exhaustive therapy, Dean had brought him home to the bunker.

He still had physical therapy three times a week and cognitive therapy twice a week. Sam had progressed much farther and faster than the doctors had anticipated, partly due to his excellent physical condition at the time of the shooting.

He still walked with a marked limp, was prone to outbursts of anger, took medication to prevent seizures and he was now reading at a first grade level.

Dean was just glad to have more time with his brother. Maybe Sam’s reaper had taken pity on them both and decided to give Sam one more pass.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice interrupted Dean’s reverie and he looked up to see his little brother, standing in the kitchen’s door way, rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

Smiling fondly at the sight, Dean said, “Good morning, sleepyhead. And Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Sam’s eyes widened and he grinned. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Which means blueberry pancakes!” He started to sit at the table but then he clapped one hand over his mouth. “I almost forgot!”

“Forgot what?”, but Sam was already gone. Dean could hear him limping as fast as he could down the hallway and when he returned, he had a manila folder in his hand. He extended it to Dean.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dean”, he said shyly.

“What’s this, Sammy?” Dean opened the folder and, inside lay a red construction paper heart. It was slightly crumpled and the edges were ragged and uneven. In the center of the heart, in a childish scrawl, Sam had written:

“Happy valentins day DEAN! I will luv you forver. SAM”

Dean wiped at his eyes and looked at his brother who was chewing on a fingernail nervously.

“I know it isn’t very good, Dean, but I told Dr. Lesley I wanted to do it by myself.” He ducked his head, looking embarrassed. “My writing sucks and the words probably aren’t right.”

Gathering Sam into his arms, he hugged him furiously. Sam hugged back just as tight. “It’s perfect, Sam, just perfect. I love you too, Sammy.”

Dean cleared his throat as he attached the paper heart to their refrigerator door with a pizza delivery magnet.

“Now. You better eat those pancakes so we can go get your present.”

Looking confused, Sam said, “I thought blueberry pancakes was my present.”

Dean shook his head. “Nope. As soon as we’re finished, we are going to the animal shelter and we are going to pick out a dog.”

Sam looked dumbfounded. “A dog?” The smile on Sam’s face was like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. His little brother was still the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

“Yep. I think it’s time. You can pick any dog you want and I’ll even let you pick the name.”

“We’re going to get a dog!” All of a sudden Dean’s arms we’re filled with a happy, laughing Sam, peppering his face with kisses.

Sam’s mood became a little more serious and he covered Dean’s mouth with his, kissing him thoroughly.

Sam had definitely not forgotten how to kiss. Or any of the many things he knew would reduce Dean to a quivering mass when they were in bed together. This part of their lives was better than ever.

He pulled back for just a moment, his expression adoring and delighted as he looked into his big brother’s eyes.

“I love you, Dean, so much. This is the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

As Sam bent to kiss him again, Dean whispered, “Yes, it is, little brother.”