Work Text:
The Way You Do The Things You Do
At first, it was just an accident.
They were dealing with a case involving an old crippled skin walker stealing children from storages. Sam got a few scratches on his forearm. Nothing serious, but Dean paced through the motel room calling him a big moron after he patched Sam up. Before this, they hadn’t had a conversation longer than four sentences for about a month. Dean kneeled beside him, wrinkled his nose in worry. After being so gone recently, now he was so close that Sam’s entrails twisted and he craved touching Dean and never letting go.
On next hunt, he gave up protecting himself a little when being tossed around. Dean was pissed like shit, but he was there when Sam’s sprained ankle hurt too much to support his weight. And Sam was always easy with such a temptation.
He became an addict very soon.
For starters, it was just taking the front in hunts, and then he began to get hurt accidently which was anything but accidents. In Ohio Sam was dragged into a lake by an angry spirit. Dean burned that bitch，but Sam spent five more minutes under the water for good measure and forgot to take his Tylenol.
It wasn’t like he had a death wish or what. Apparently, Sam did not want to die stupidly because of the flu or infection. However, he did have gone too far once by skipping his antibiotics after a stab in abdomen. It turned out to be festered，and when he came around Dean was seated in a worn chair by his side in a deep slumber.
“What the hell, Sam? Next time you doing this I swear I’ll end you myself.” Dean roared. They stayed in town for a week，Dean only went out for medicine and foods until Sam was back on his heel. Every time Sam woke up he was right there. At the end of the week Dean looked dead weary with dark circles and stubble. One glance and Sam was the miserable pain in the ass again. He felt like curling up and dying quietly or he was gonna crying out like a giant baby. Neither was an alternative.
Sam stopped doing it for several weeks。
It was hard to believe，but what happened before the antichristianism came along was pure accident. The demon caught him off guard and Dean was turning on the car. They end up in a shitty town and everything went to hell after that.
Dean never asked about the wound after cleaning his wound，for now Dean had a death wish, a true, faithful one making Sam a desperate beast in cage.
So he did it again. He was not afraid anymore as Dean giving up on them was way worse then dying alone in some dumped house. Because he was so fucking tired and had so little to lose. And deep down Sam was still hoping Dean would understand without actually knowing, just like before.
Although they were not like that anymore, and there was no going back.
He broke into the damn room.
Dean did not let him down, just like before.
The chick-flick moment in car was such a blessed distraction that Sam barely noticed the pain in his guts until he was bending over the toilet trying to vomiting his own stomach. The blood tasted sweet like victory，which made him smile darkly.
Dean’s hands was soothing on his back, his neck，everyfuckingwhere. Dean called him a stupid ass but let him be a clinging child without further mocking. He was warm and solid and alive and Dean.
And Sam was ready to do it one last time＊.