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If Sam was being honest, he was tired.
No, scratch that.
He was exhausted.
He had been fighting monsters since he was old enough to handle a knife. He had been possessed by the devil, trapped in hell, and lost his soul as a result. He had been beaten, and bruised, and broken so many times that he could still feel the searing pain burning on his skin when he woke in the middle of the night.
However, Sam would gladly live through that all again, if it meant that he wouldn’t have to spend a minute longer in a room with his dumbass older brother and the angel that said dumbass brother is in love with. Who is also a dumbass.
In fact, Sam often finds himself fantasising about another Apocalypse every time Dean and Cas share one of their prolonged moments of intense eye contact, sitting in vain hope that the devil will burst in and take control of his body once again, just so he doesn’t have to deal with them anymore.
So yeah. It’s fair to say Sam’s a little bit tired.
It’s been a week since they got back from Purgatory: the second time. And it’s been a long week.
Look, Sam was damn happy that his brother and Cas managed to fix whatever had broken between them (again), and that he could now engage with the angel without Dean acting as if he was committing the highest form of fratricide. Really, he was.
But some small, spiteful, worn-out part of him immediately wished for the two to return to the way they were before. Because he had forgotten. Sam had forgotten how utterly infuriating the two were when they weren’t at each other’s throats and being angsty in their rooms.
They were sickening. All the longing glances across rooms, the not-so-subtle lingering touches so as not to give any indication of their feelings away. As if it wasn’t just the two of them who were dumb enough to not see what was going on between them. Everyone knew. Literally everyone. It was pretty frickin’ obvious.
And yet, these two glorious dumbasses, one of which Sam was unfortunately related to by blood, continued to dance around their growing ball of tension. Because apparently eleven years of doing so just wasn’t enough.
Eventually, Sam just had to escape. He had tried to leave the bunker on numerous occasions beforehand; making a habit of going for runs early in the morning, trying to dip out to go grocery shopping. Hell he’d even tried to take the Impala for a spin - (it hadn’t gone down well).
However, none of his expeditions proved to be successful in leaving the two alone to ‘relieve the tension’ between them (Sam didn’t think too deeply on the implications).
Each time he returned home, he entered the bunker cautiously, as if afraid he’d either find his brother and Cas naked or crying about their feelings. And honestly, Sam wasn’t sure which one he found more horrifying. Alas, these were futile attempts.
This time however, Sam was determined to succeed. He spent the few days before sowing the seeds as he not-so-casually hinted at his brother’s and the angel’s situation to said parties, all the while emphasizing that he would be gone all day. Meaning they had the entire day to do whatever the hell they wanted in private.
So Sam left the bunker that day in high spirits, convinced he had set up the perfect opportunity for the two dumbasses to finally come to their senses and realise that: Yes, your feelings are mutual. Congratulations.
Returning to the bunker after a long day of patting himself on the back and gloating over the phone to Eileen about his masterful plan (who, to her credit, kept her eyerolls to a minimum), Sam truly felt successful. He exited the Impala and walked into the bunker, whistling to himself as an indication of his good mood. This was short-lived.
For a moment, Sam considered turning around, getting back into the Impala, and driving until he ran out of road. This temptation was quickly overruled with an overwhelming feeling of frustration, snapping from the pressure of building for eleven years.
What lay before him was Cas, his somehow best friend and certified dumbass, sitting at a table in the library. Reading. Reading a book on vampire lore, to be specific. He remained fully clothed (which Sam was mildly grateful for), with no indication whatsoever of ever having taken them off today. So sex was ruled out.
He also looked tired. And not the ‘I’ve finally come to my senses and realised that the man I’m in love with loves me also and we had such a nice but emotionally tiring in-depth discussion about our feelings’ kind of tired. This was more his usual ‘I’m carrying not only the weight of the world on my shoulders, but also this secret-not-so-secret love for this man I’ve been watching over for years and he has no idea so I’ll just sit here and yearn’ kind of tired.
The angel must have heard him come in, because he puts down his book as he turns towards the door, offering Sam an attempt at a warm smile that really just looks pathetic. Sam nearly rolls his eyes at his friend, his irritation having already reached an all-time-high with Cas. He was about to snap.
“What the hell Cas?” Sam burst out, startling Cas in his seat. He turned to face Sam fully, eyebrow furrowed in confusion.
“I leave you two, alone, all day, with absolutely zero chance of any interruptions,” Sam continued, his hands waving around wildly, effectively conveying his frustration, “and I come back to find you reading? On your own?”
Cas, to his credit, looked completely lost; his eyes comically wide at the sudden fierceness of the younger brother.
“I’m not entirely sure why this has upset you..” Cas begins, his low voice laced with uncertainty. However, instead of placating him, Cas’ bewilderment only succeeds in increasing Sam’s frustration.
“I left today, so you and Dean could finally acknowledge whatever the hell is going on between you two.” At this, Cas’ widen even further, his mouth dropping open slightly. “And when I get home, I see that nothing has been resolved, you’re both still as dumb as you were, and I’m still gonna have to put up with it!”
Sam was breathing heavily now, all of the pent-up irritation coursing through his veins in the aftermath of his outburst. He’s still trying to reign himself in when Cas’ stunned voice cuts through the silence.
“I had no idea you knew.”
At this, Sam is caught between a laugh and a groan. Because, really? Cas really didn’t think he’d noticed all the longing gazes, the lack-of personal space, the blatant love confession? Sam would be hurt by his perceived obliviousness on Cas’ part if it weren’t for the more pressing matters at hand. For one, his utter failure in his mission.
Passing a hand tiredly over his face, Sam moved to sit opposite Cas. The angel’s face still held a shocked expression at the revelation that his seemingly subtle love for Dean had been found out. Sam almost felt sorry for him. Then he remembered the yearning and all feelings of sympathy vanished.
“Look Cas, I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure everyone who’s seen you around Dean knows.” Cas flinched mildly at his words and Sam hastened to continue. “Not Dean, of course, he has no idea.” At this Cas relaxed slightly, though a vague wave of disappointment washed over his face briefly.
Sam chose to ignore this and continued.
“Look Cas, I get it, I do. You’re worried that Dean won’t reciprocate, that he sees you as nothing more than a brother, that you don’t ‘deserve’ him.” Given Cas gradual lowering of his head Sam could tell he was hitting the mark each time.
“But Cas, man, nothing’s going to change if you don’t do something. And look, I know Dean can be a stubborn pain in the ass sometimes, - actually, all the time -, but you need to know that the way you look at him if the exact way he-”
“Sam.” Cas’ voice cut through Sam’s, breaking him off mid-sentence. “As soon as you left today, Dean retreated to his room and barely came out. While I understand your good intentions, your attempt was futile,” Cas deadpans, “It is clearer to me than ever that Dean is content to have things stay the way they are between us, and I will not be the one to ruin that. If that is what he wants, that is the way it shall be.”
For a moment, Sam genuinely considered punching the angel in the face. If anything, just to wipe the look of masked suffering off his face. He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, reminding himself over and over that Cas was his friend, even if he was an idiot.
“Alright that’s it.” Sam stood up abruptly from the table. They weren’t willing to play fair? Fine. He had enough pent-up frustration to carry him through his next few actions with no room for regret.
He stalked out of the room so quickly that Cas dashed after to follow him, nervously asking Sam what he was doing. Sam didn’t answer him; instead he walked briskly down the corridor towards his brother’s room with Cas falling in step directly behind him.
He didn’t hesitate as he reached Dean’s door, flinging it open with little regard for his sleeping brother. He made his way to the bed, pausing for a moment to watch the peaceful look on his older brother’s face: a rare sight. Too bad he was going to ruin it.
“Wha- Sam? What are y-”. Dean’s confused protests were cut short by Sam pulling on his blankets until he fell onto the floor. His head rose up from the other side of the bed, his hair stuck up wildly and his eyes glaring.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Sammy? You think you can just come in here and-”
Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the door, not listening to the rest of his brother’s threat. He stepped up to Cas, who was standing in the doorway, eyes impossibly wide at the scene he had just witnessed. He yelped as Sam tugged his arm, causing him to fall ungracefully into the room. He wobbled unsteadily as Sam released him, stumbling a few steps before he grounded himself completely.
By this stage, Sam had not one, but two pairs of pissed-off, yet bewildered eyes staring up at him. Maybe in the past, he would have tried to placate the two and attempted to rectify the situation himself.
But Sam Winchester was tired. He was so goddamn tired. He just wanted this to end.
“I’m going to bed now.” His voice broke clear through the room, silencing the two whose voices had been rising a moment before. Sam let out a sigh.
“I’m going to leave this room and lock the door.” At their protests, Sam raised his hand, quieting them both. He continued. “I’m going to go into my room, lock my own door, and try and get some damn sleep.
Now whatever you two decide to do is up to you guys. But I am serious when I say that if by morning, this thing,” he gestured vaguely between them, “isn’t sorted out and dealt with, I will keep you in here, until you do decide to deal with it. Okay?”
He glanced at the two of them, their matching dumbfounded faces almost making the whole ordeal worth it. Almost. They both studiously avoided each other’s gaze, and Sam could feel the tension between them rising again.
And on that note, he turned and walked out the door. He shut it behind him and fiddled with the key, listening carefully to the muffled voices behind the door. He couldn’t make out any coherent words, but when he heard Dean huff out a laugh at something Cas had said, he knew he could sleep peacefully.
And so, tired Sam Winchester finally took himself to bed. He lay back on his mattress, his body sighing in relief as the tension bled from his joints. He then curled up and buried his face in his pillow, content to know his long-suffering would be coming to an end tonight. Now all he had to worry about was Dean finding out in the morning that he had lost the keys to the bedrooms long ago.
But that was tomorrow’s problem.