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It was the weirdest fight Dean had ever been in. If it even was a fight. He thought it was a fight.
Sam, Sam with his goddamn organic obsession, spending money like it was unlimited - which sure, for them it was unlimited, but still. Dean rolled his eyes at the food, at the vegetarian bacon, but played along.
But toothpaste?
Did they really need organic toothpaste?
Dean was prepared to draw the line at expensive organic toothpaste. It just wasn’t necessary. It was toothpaste, it was ridiculous. The free motel crap was fine.
He had worked up this head of steam, when Sam turned on the eyes. The goddamn eyes. Sam could rule the world with just one look if he wanted to.
“Seventeen cavities, Dean. That’s what Garth said. Seventeen. Do you know how many diseases are connected to bad teeth, Dean? So sorry if I spent a few extra bucks to not have to sit here watching your teeth fall out of your head while you die of diabetes or kidney failure or something. I’ll throw it out if it bugs you that much.”
Much to Dean’s surprise, Sam turned around and stalked out before Dean had a chance to say anything to that.
Subdued, Dean made his way to Sam’s room, where he was sitting quietly on his bed. Dean sat beside him, careful to leave a few inches of space. He looked straight ahead, like Sam was doing.
“Sam, if it’s that important to you, I’ll use the stuff. But what’s the deal?”
Sam let out a long exhale. “Sorry I snapped like that. It’s just, I know to you, dying of a heart attack or a stroke or whatever is a win, as long as it’s not the monsters that get you. But I don’t think it’s a win. I hate the idea of us living through everything we’ve lived through, only for you to just… die over something dumb and preventable. And… and you worry so much about me, and you work so hard taking care of me, it sucks that you don’t care about yourself. I just, I want you to get old, Dean. I want us to get old.”
It felt like a rock had dropped into Dean’s stomach, and he absently reached over to rub Sam’s back. He could faintly feel Sam’s heartbeat. Stupid, froofy, overpriced organic toothpaste with eighteen pages of literature all over the tube. And to Sam, this was some effort at keeping Dean alive. This was Sam not wanting anything to happen to Dean, expensive froofy toothpaste was just another weapon in the arsenal. Fucking gum disease was as much of a monster to him as a vampire.
It hadn’t occurred to Dean that taking care of Sammy didn’t mean all that much if he stressed his brother out by not taking care of himself.
“Okay, Sam,” Dean said, slipping his arm over Sam’s shoulders and squeezing. “I get it. I’ll use the toothpaste, I’ll take care of myself better. I’ll go on a fucking run with you tomorrow. Just, don’t be buying me body butter or any other shit like that, okay?”
Sam smirked a little at that, and Dean relaxed at seeing him smile. Sam slapped his hand down and squeezed his knee reassuringly.
“Well, I wasn’t gonna mention dude, but your breath is also pretty fucking nasty.”