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“Dean! Have you been going through my things again?” Sam rummaged through his duffle for the third time, irritation coloring his voice as he started yanking dirty clothes from the bottom of the bag. He huffed a sigh as the sound of the toilet flushing and water running in the sink was his only response. Sam fought the rising panic as his fingers met the canvas bottom of his worn bag. A bag that’s followed him from Stanford to Hell. He knew this bag inside and out, where all the little cubby holes he had sewn in were kept. What each brown or red stain was from, where each patch was that kept him from having to replace it constantly. Now as he emptied nearly his whole life onto the ratty motel bed, for the first time he felt like his trusty companion had failed him.
“What’re you gripin’ about in here?” Dean swaggered into the hotel room, face freshly shaved and slightly pink from razor burn. He watched as Sam stood hunched over a mess of clothes strewn about on the bed, his brother’s hands fisted tightly on the strap of his duffle. “Dude, what’s up?” Sam breathed deeply a few times, trying to quell the rising illogical hysteria.
“My bag Dean, have you been through my bag?” The sixth sense big brother mode was tingling as Dean took in Sam’s tense form. The way Sam kept his head down turned and eyes closed, and the slow was he was overcompensating his breathing.
“No Sammy, I haven’t been in your bag. Why?” By now alarm bells were ringing in Dean’s head as Sam’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly and he started to pack his things back up slowly. He shuffled forward a small step, hand raised slightly to brush against Sam’s elbow. “Hey, what’sa matter?” Sam shook his head and huffed slightly as he closed the zipper tightly.
“It’s nothing Dean, just lost something that’s all. Nothing to worry about. Let’s just get back to the bunker. Mom’s cookin’ tonight so you know you need to get there to chaperone.” The forced attempt at humor and a grimace of a smile made Dean sigh. Things had been off for them all for weeks after the little visit from Gabriel’s extended family. Sam’s smiles always seemed too brittle, to fleeting. They had tried to had a good old fashioned chick flick moment but that was shut down faster than he could blink, platitudes tumbling from Sam’s mouth faster than they could comprehend before he had bolted. It took a week for him to resurface again, a shiny smile in place and a hunt in his hand.
Dean wanted to say it would have been easy to forget and move past that curse that had ripped all of their hearts to shreds. He’d had long talks with his Mom, and Jack about the venom that was spilled that day. None of them could really comprehend what they said, each trying to apologize and explain but Sam would just shut down with a smile and a shake of his head before changing the subject. Gabriel had apologized to each of them before taking another extended vacation, “Check up on things up top. I’m sue their getting antsy as they haven’t seen me in a few weeks. I’ll check in—”.
“Yeah, let’s head back. If we make good time should be there by the time she’s ready to burn water.” Sam chuckled as he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked past to head towards the Impala. Dean took another minute to check the room and make sure they didn’t forget anything. He ran his hand over the salt lines by the windows, hiding the fact that hunters stayed here, and grabbed his own bag while whistling an off-key tune. Sammy may still be feeling off, but Dean would find a way to get that back to kosher—one way or another--.
True to their predictions, Mary was just letting a pot boil over as she pulled half-baked bread from the oven. Dean scrambled to turn the heat down as Sam took the hot tray from her, both snorting quietly at her insistence that “she’s got this”.
“Mom, I love you, but if you burn down my kitchen I’m kicking you out.” Mary huffed with her hands on her hips and tried not to smile.
“Listen here Dean, I was doing just fine. It’s not my fault these future age appliances don’t like me.” It was quiet for a moment before Sam, biting his lip, said quietly,
“These appliances are from the fifties Mom—“. Throwing her hands in the air, Mary stalked off towards the library shouting as she went.
“Jack! Their ganging up on me again! Wanna hit the store with me while they sort out that haunted kitchen?” Sam chuckled slightly as Dean shouted back at her retreating form that his kitchen was not haunted thank you very much, before laughing himself and turning back towards the pot of mystery liquid. He sniffed the steam tentatively before nodding his approval.
“Ya know, I think she almost got it this time, this actually smells edible.” Sam poked the rolls still on the tray is his hands and nodded his agreement.
“Yeah and these are still pretty salvageable, just gotta turn the heat down on the oven so they cook slower.” Dean sighed wistfully as he stirred in a few more spices.
“My they grow up fast don’t that?” He smiled again and looked at his brother who was shaking his head. It felt good to see him smiling, almost like a real smile—“Wanna beer Sammy?” His brother shrugged and went over to the fridge, grabbing two bottles while yawning.
“Yeah why not, it’s been a long day.” Clinking the necks together, they relaxed into the quiet around them. The steady homey noises of food cooking easing the last of their tension from their last case. Sam was leaning against the kitchen island, eyes glazing over as he started to space out. The fingers of his free hand were drumming softly on the metal countertop. Dean let the silence wrap around them comfortably, his gaze occasionally glancing over towards his younger brother. He looked healthier again, the color returned to his skin. Though he could still stand to gain some meat on his bones. Sucking in his lower lip, Dean chugged back another deep draw from the beer before cracking his neck.
“So, I’ve been thinking—when’s the last time we took a real vacation?” He waited a pause until Sam inclined his head to show he was listening. “Ya know, sun, water, a beach—couple’a six packs of beers, whaddya think?” Dean felt a natural smile ease across his face as Sam nodded thoughtfully. He turned back to the pot on the stove giving it a slow stir. It really had been a long time since they took any kind of break. The last time he could remember was hanging by that lake shortly after Sam cured him from his demon flu--- parasite? Affliction? Anyway it had been awhile and after the year they had, it was about time they let loose for a while. He looked back at Sam, plans already forming in his head when his good mood stared to stutter slightly.
Sam was still standing in the same position he was before. Hand lightly tapping away on the countertop, eyes gazing off into the middle distance, beer apparently forgotten. He was absently chewing on his lower lip and Dean could see the bright red skin peeking out every now and then as he sighed. Setting the pot to simmer, Dean took another swallow of his beer before tentatively reaching out to lay a hand gently on Sam’s shoulder. He didn’t miss the way the muscles tensed slightly, or the subtle shift to the side so he lost contact.
“Sammy, talk to me? What’s goin’ on in that egghead of yours?” Sam just shook his head and stretched, trying to feign nonchalance but failing miserably.
“Nothin’ Dean, it’s nothing. Hey I’m gonna head to bed. Vacation sounds really good by the way, we should let the other’s know. Make it a real family trip.” Sam shot him a grimace of a smile as he backed out of the kitchen slowly. Once out of sight, Dean huffed in frustration while shaking his head.
“Well, that wasn’t weird—what’s up with Sasquatch?” Dean jumped slightly and glared as Gabriel sauntered in from the library, a giant lollipop twirling in his fingers.
“Stop doing that, gonna get bells for all of you one day. I swear.” Gabriel laughed and blew him a kiss while sliding onto the bench seat at the table before nodding his head towards the hallway.
“Seriously though, he alright?” Dean glanced back towards the darkened hallway and shrugged before manning the stove again.
“I don’t know—but I aim to find out. We’re takin’ a vacation, ya’ll are respectfully invited not to come”. He glances over his shoulder giving Gabriel a meaningful look. The angle raises his hands in mock surrender.
“I get it Dean-o, one on one bro time. No argument from me, need me to keep momma Winchester, muy occupado, while your away?” Dean glared over his shoulder before pointing the soup ladle and snarled,
“No hunts, I mean it Gabe. Ya’ll may not be invited but I think everyone should take some down time. After that last little stunt that came back to bite us in the ass we don’t need anymore surprises.” He turned back to the pot trying to hide the still simmering anger at the guy. He blamed Gabe but at the same time didn’t blame him. Dean knew how these things could go, after being on the receiving end more than once from choices gone bad.
“No problem Dean, I know of a great little spa in Greece I think your mother would just adore. A pamper weekend just us girls”. He shook his head fighting not to smile.
“Whatever you say Gabe, just no hunts—” He’d be damned if any kind of emergency stole their attention this time. One way or another, his brother was getting that damned vacation.
‘What’s a matter Sammy? Cat got your tongue? Lose your marbles? No, lost somethin’ else didn’t ya—lose your little touchstone? Your anchor, your rock—your stone number one? Where’d it go Sam? Sam? Sammy? Sammy? Sam—
“-my? Hey Sammy, rise and shine! We got a lot of road to cover if we wanna get there before dark!” The edge between sleep and awake blurred for a moment as Sam heard his brother pound on his door for a second before footsteps receded down the hall. His skin felt tight, his chest heaved with hot air as he fought to escape the entangled sheets around his legs. He didn’t lose it, he didn’t— it had to be here--. He glanced at his clock, the second’s ticking by as he tried to beat his pounding heart into submission. He had to find it—he needed to find it.
Sam barely felt the cold tile floors under his bare feet as he stood swiftly. The chill worked it’s way through his stiff muscles and he fought back the shiver that wanted to crawl up his spine.
‘Lose your touchstone? Stone number one? Lost it? Lost it? Lost it?’
“I didn’t lose it, I can’t have lost it—” though Sam wasn’t sure anymore if he was referring to his mind or—he had to find it.
Steeling his backbone, Sam grabbed a sweatshirt as he barreled out of the room and headed towards the laundry room. Maybe it was messed up in the dirty clothes, I mean, how carefully did he really empty his bag the last time they were here? Yeah, that has to be it—it can’t be because it’s gone, it’s not gone—it’s not—
Dean was just finishing packing his duffle when out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam move swiftly past his door. He chuckled slightly, closing the zipper then grabbing his jacket.
“Good morning princess! Ready to roll out in 10 little brother, that beach is callin’ my name!” He waited to hear the shouted bitchy response but frowned when all he heard was silence. Leaning his head past his doorway he checked down either side of the hall while adjusting his jacket over his shoulders. “Sam?” Nothing. Okay, now the low level little-brother alert was going up a notch. Sure they had mornings where a grumble mumble was the best form of communication before coffee—but something wasn’t adding up. Leaving his bag on his bed for now, Dean followed after the direction he thought Sam must have gone and shouted his name again.
“Sammy? Hey Sam!” He glanced into the dark kitchen and kept walking past towards the shower room. When he couldn’t find his giant of a brother there the concern raised from a mild annoyance to a full blown big brother attack. “Sammy! Where are you?” Mary poked her head out of her room just as Dean was passing and gave him a concerned look.
“Dean? What is it?” He shrugged and kept walking.
“Don’t know yet, but I aim to find out. Find the guys and go to the library. I’ll come get you in a minute”. Mary nodded while grabbing her robe and hurrying back the way he came. Dean watched her go for a minute, feeling slightly guilty for keeping her from looking for Sam. But he was Dean’s kid, and this was Dean’s the one who could fix whatever was going on.
Passing by a few doors, Dean hesitated at the next junction unsure which way his brother went. He was about to shout again when the sound of a loud clang followed by a muffled curse drifted from his left.
“What the hell—?” Without hesitation, Dean stomped towards the sound and saw the light flicker in the laundry room. Hearing the baritone of his brother’s voice carry towards him, Dean rushed through the doorway only to stop short at the hurricane of clothes strewn about the floor. In the middle of the mess was Sam, his hands clenched tightly in his hair rocking slightly back and forth with his eyes closed.
“I lost it, I lost it—I can’t believe I lost it—” Dean could feel his heart ache at the crack in his brother’s voice as he carefully eased to his knees. Ducking his head to get in Sam’s line of sight he slowly raised his hand until it hovered over once tense shoulder not quite touching yet. Hesitantly he cleared his throat and spoke softly.
“Sam? Hey—Sammy—“. He barely rested his fingertips on Sam’s shoulder but the violent flinch made him retract quickly and lean back at the wild look in his brother’s eyes. “Sam! Hey it’s me, just me little brother”. He held his brother’s gaze carefully, noting the deep circles under his eyes and the blood shot panic look. “Talk to me Sam, it’s okay. Whatever it is it’s okay, you just gotta talk to me Sammy—” Slowly Sam unclenched his fists and let them fall limply to his lap. Dean held his gaze calmly, quietly telling him it’s okay and that he was here now. He watched as the slightly panic gleam slowly leaked from Sam’s hazel eyes and felt the panic release it’s iron grip on his chest as Sam seemed to become more coherent.
Carefully he reached out again and eased the palm of his hand to rest on Sam’s shoulder. When that didn’t cause any negative reaction, he slid it slowly across the shoulder blade and up to the back of his neck. He squeezed with a warm grip and rubbed his thumb along the pulsing pressure point just behind Sam’s ear. Eventually Sam’s breathing slowed and he closed his eyes in exhaustion. When the last of the tension bled from his body, Dean pulled him forward and wrapped his other arm around Sam’s shivering form.
“That’s right little brother, let it go—it’s okay, it’s all okay—” Sam rested his forehead just under Dean’s chin and Dean pretended to not hear the near silent sobs as he continued to whisper soft comforting words. They sat there for a while. Giving and receiving comfort freely as the clock ticked steadily nearby. After a short time, Dean could feel the slight change in breathing and chanced pulling away slightly so he could peer down at his little brother. Sam kept his eyes downcast as he fiddled with the hem of his sweatshirt.
“Sammy, it’s okay—just—what can I do?” He begged quietly. He could see the carried hurt, practically feel it in the tightness of the younger man’s posture. After a minute’s hesitation Sam shook his head slowly before meeting Dean’s eyes.
“I lost it. I didn’t mean to Dean, I—I lost it—”. The level of devastation in Sam’s eyes nearly brought Dean to tears himself as he watched the hazel eyes dart back and forth from searching the room and glancing at his brother. Dean licked his lips and tried to understand.
“What Sammy? What did you lose?” Sam rubbed violently at his face trying to wipe away the itchy tracks from his tears before leaning back and collapsing against the washer. He let his legs sprawl outwards, their long reach pushing piles of clothes against the far wall.
“It—it wasn’t that important anymore I guess, not really. I just—I just felt better having it near you know? Call it a, a good luck charm or something—stone number one—” Sam mumbled the last bit and if Dean wasn’t watching him so closely he may have missed it. A memory that still gave him nightmares pushed to the forefront of his mind and Dean shook his head disbelievingly for a second.
“Sammy- wha—you didn’t lose—” How could Sam think he somehow lost him? Or something that at least reminded him that Dean was there, always there. How could he—
‘I know-- I know I’m still in the cage. After all this, after all these years—I’ve never left—‘.
Fucking—hell—
Dean shifted until he was crouching over his brother. Sam kept his gaze slightly averted but he wasn’t having any of that. Gently grabbing Sam’s chin, Dean slowly turned his head until their foreheads rested against each other and Dean knew he had Sam’s undivided attention.
“Listen to me little brother. We’ve had some shit thrown at us, over and over again. And yeah, it’s sucked—we’ve been kicked, beaten, forced into submission, sometimes by each other, but never—not once—did anything between us change. You’ve always been my pain in the ass little brother, and I will always, always, be there. You were saved, and you saved me—we’ve had a real crappy toss of it these last few years and I know it’s sucked. The only reason I made it through is cause of you little brother. The only reason I didn’t find the business end of a pistol or the bad ending of a hunt is cause of you.
“I know you feel hopeless sometimes. I know you’ve dragged yourself from one day to the next—sometimes with no end in sight but Sammy—Sammy I am never leavin’ you. You’ve got me until the end little brother. Whether it’s in a blaze of glory with Baby paving our way, or as two old farts rocking it at a retirement home it’s you and me. No vampires, or werewolves, demons, or angels will keep us a part.” He reached his hand back behind Sam’s head to give his neck a gentle squeeze. An age long practice to help ground them both with things got too intense. A reminder of long ago days of long road trips and blaring music.
“Whatever you’ve lost, you still have me. I’m still here Sammy— I’m not, and you’re not going anywhere.” A fresh wave of tears were silently rolling down Sam’s cheeks and Dean sniffled slightly, refusing to acknowledge his own roll of tears. He watched as a slow dawning of understanding graced Sam’s face and felt the gentle appreciation through the unspoken shine of gratitude in Sam’s gaze. He gave Sam’s neck another gentle squeeze before standing slowly, trying to ignore the cricks in his knees. Sam rubbed at his face again and Dean felt a gentle smile at the ageless gesture. For a moment all he saw was his 13 year old brother, wiping away the dirt and sweat after a quick game of catch behind a motel. His beaming dimpled face rivaling the sun in its brightness.
Here they were now, over twenty years older and still hunters—but also brothers. He reached his hand out and nodded his head towards the general direction of the kitchen. Sam looked at the proffered hand. His head slightly achey from the multitude of emotions that bombarded him over the past hour. He looked up at Dean, saw the patient half smile and warm love in his brother’s face and couldn’t help but feel strength from the simple gesture.
“C’mon, I think what we need is some coffee and a full breakfast. Then we are so heading towards that vacation.” He couldn’t help it, Sam smiled and it felt full and almost normal. He didn’t feel like his skin was breaking at the seams or like his body was a mess of sharp glass pieces waiting to cut him if he moved wrong. It still felt wrong that he had lost it, the one thing he’s ever refused to toss even when travelling to hell or as soulless. But feeling his brother’s warm grip as he was pulled from the floor help lessen that open ache in his chest.
“Sounds good—hey Dean—” He hesitated for just a second before squeezing his hand and taking a deep breath. “Thanks—”
~~6 months later~~
“Seriously Sammy, next time you are cleaning this car! Inside—and out!” Dean grunted as he reached deeper under the bench seat. He could just barely feel the edges of another fast food bag stuffed deep under the seat. Man was he wouldn’t give to have Sasquatch length arms right about him. Stretching his fingers, he pushed harder against the leather back and grunted in victory as he finally inched the bag close enough to grab. Quickly he sat up and held the back aloft, shouting in victory as he waived his bounty in the air. He turned to look behind him as Sam laughed while tying off the garbage bag.
“Whatever you say dude, most of those are yours you know.” Dean checked the logo on the bag and shrugged before tossing it towards his brother.
“Eh, but Baby’s half yours so you get half the responsibility for her.”
“Does that mean I get partial custody? Visitations on the weekends?” Dean snorted before leaning back under the seat and shouted,
“Over my dead body!” He chuckled as Sam mumbled “spoilsport” before feeling the edges of another bag. Instantly he frowned at the feeling of cheap velvet and hesitated to reach further. Glancing around, Dean noticed Sam had wandered to the other side of the garage with the garbage. Mary was still in the library with Jack and Cas—hell—to be a hex bag or not to be a hex bag—
Banking on his Winchester luck, Dean reached again and easily hooked on of the drawstrings and pulled it out as gently as he could. At first inspection the bag was just like any other velvet bag you would get with cheap jewelry or from a new age store. The velvet was worn in a few spots, like it was rubbed several times with nervous fingers. He was debating the strength of his luck and what would happen when he opened it when Sam’s large frame blocked out the light and a loud slap to the car roof made Dean jump.
“Dude! Don’t do that!” Sam laughed as Dean tried to calm his racing heart back down to normal levels. He glared at his brother and without thinking threw the bag at him in retaliation. It thumped against Sam’s chest, silencing him immediately and Dean felt his heartrate spoke back up at the sudden silence.
“Sam—wha—”
“You found it—” His brother was staring intently at the bag that rested between them on the back seat. Although simple and plain, Dean was suddenly feeling slightly uneasy at Sam’s fierce stare and wanted to take the bag and burn it immediately.
Sam eased himself on the seat next to Dean, carefully grabbing the bag and holding it between them. He glanced up at Dean then, his eyes clouded slightly by tears and hesitation. Dean let his gaze flick back and forth between the bag and his brother.
“Sammy—what is it?” After another moment, Sam seemed to pump himself up before swiftly opening the bag. Grabbing Dean’s hand, he only had a second to protest until Sam upended the mystery and Dean felt something cool and metal fall into his palm.
It took him a hot second to even catch up to what he was seeing. But there it was, the bronze metal glinting dully in the garage’s lights as Dean ran his thumb over it with fondness. The leather thong of the necklace was cut much shorter, barely long enough to serve as a bracelet at this point but the amulet itself with its featureless face and two horns still looked as it had that Christmas when he was a kid.
“I know Chuck said it was all but useless now—I mean—since he went off with Amara and all but—it—it never meant that, for me.” Dean closed his fist around the warming metal and sighed deeply. He looked up into Sam’s face and smiled.
“Me either little brother. It was ours before all of this—and it’ll always be ours—“.