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Sam forgot to breathe when he saw Dean again. Not that he had to breathe anymore. It just felt weird to stop breathing. He could stop though. It also didn’t make sense that the first thing he thought about when he saw Dean after so many years was about breathing. Or maybe it wasn’t weird at all. Being close to Dean had always messed up Sam’s breathing anyway.
“Hiya, Sammy.”
Sam had fallen in Dean’s arms faster than ever. He had never been away from his brother for so many years on end. He needed this, Dean’s embrace, Dean’s love that had the potential to choke him. Sam didn’t mind being choked. Sam only cared about Dean being as close to him as humanly possible and never leaving him again. He couldn’t take another separation. He didn’t want to let Dean get out of his sight. He didn’t know what he would do if Dean asked him to step back, to give him space. Sam couldn’t do that, not again. Sam needed to be close and closer and even closer.
“Dean.”
He breathed. He felt and he belonged. Like a man coming home from war, Sam urgently took it all in, as much as he could take, his home. Home had always been Dean. He wouldn’t let go again. Never again.
The view from the bridge would have blown Sam any other day but not today, not when Dean stood next to him, alive. Well, not alive, but close enough.
“So what now?” Sam didn’t care what they would do. Dean could choose. Sam just needed them to be as close as possible when doing it.
Something flashed in Dean’s eyes but he pushed it back before Sam had time to overthink it. Dean made that look he took when he prepared to ask for something selfish. Sam didn’t care. Dean could be as selfish as he wanted, as long as he didn’t make Sam stand more than two meters away. He couldn’t take that. Not now. Not when he had just gotten Dean back.
“Wanna go for a drive?” Dean said. The familiar question filled Sam’s heart with joy. So much joy.
“Yes.” He choked out, tears running down his cheeks. “I would love that.”
Dean smiled and then his arm returned to Sam’s back once again, leading him to the Impala. The real Impala. Because the one he had back in his garage had stopped being his home after Dean died.
They drove for miles, for hours, for days. Sam didn’t know. He didn’t care either. He spent a long while just looking at his brother driving. Dean didn’t even put on any music at first. Sam hadn’t tasted such a comfortable silence since that last drive with Dean, before the vampire nest. It still hurt a little, thinking about their last hunt. Sam might have gone on a vampire-killing spree that lasted a few years after that. Sam had always been a bit more prone to revenge than his brother. Not that it mattered now. Dean was right next to him now. Sam didn’t need anything more.
“So…”
“Yes?” Sam didn’t miss a second. His attention hadn’t left Dean since they reunited on that bridge. Dean hadn’t spoken in hours and Sam had forgotten to. Being this close to Dean calmed him to the point that talking hadn’t even crossed his mind. Not that Sam and Dean needed to speak to communicate.
“Anyone you wanna meet?” Dean’s voice carried a tone Sam didn’t like. “I could take you there.”
“What?” Sam felt the earth shatter around him. Was Dean telling him to leave? Did he not want him anymore? Had Dean changed after all these years? Did Sam make him wait too long?
“You know, a lady or something.” Dean gave him a side glance. “A wife maybe?”
“I…” Sam blanched. Sure, he had Eileen, and he wanted to meet her at some point but… not now. Not yet. “Do you… Do you have someone? Here, in heaven.”
Dean flushed.
Sam’s heart fell. So Dean found someone. And he wanted to drop Sam off so he could get back to them. Was Sam holding Dean back? But he didn’t want Dean to go. Not yet. Sam needed him.
“No,” Sam said quickly. “Please don’t.”
“Sam?” Dean turned to look at him and suddenly he looked much taller. Dean’s eyes widened in shock, then softened and he stopped the car. “It’s alright, Sammy. Come here.” Dean opened his arms wide in the small confines of the car and Sam willingly fell into his brother’s arms.
“It’s alright, Sammy,” Dean whispered, a hand stroking Sam’s hair. “I’ve got you.”
Sam broke into tears, his tiny arms finding leverage in Dean’s black shirt. Wait— Tiny? Sam pulled his head back in confusion and looked up at his big brother. Dean hadn’t looked that tall in… well, decades.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice rang high like a child’s. “What’s going on?”
Dean moved Sam on his lap and pushed Sam’s hair back, stroking his chubby cheeks softly.
“It’s alright, Sammy. Nothing’s wrong,” Dean said. “Heaven lets you become what you need to be. That’s why you didn’t appear as an old man at first. It’s totally normal.”
“It is?” Sam’s voice trembled, childish and weak and needy. Sam had to stop this. Dean would get sick of him if Sam turned all needy on him again. Dean raised him once, he didn’t have to go through this again. Sam had to go back to being a grown-up, dependable.
“Stop overworking that smart head of yours.” Dean chuckled. “Here, I can do it too.”
Sam felt Dean’s thighs become slim and bony under him, the muscles gone. Dean didn’t tower as much over him anymore. Sam dared look up and saw Dean’s baby face looking back at him, all big eyes and freckled cheeks, and the softest voice in the world coming out of his mouth.
“Now we match.” Dean grinned.
Sam let his head rest against Dean’s shoulder, the whole feeling taking him back to simpler years when their biggest worries included getting food on the table and putting up salt lines. Sam missed it sometimes.
“Wanna tell me why you turned little now?” Dean asked softly, planting a kiss on Sam’s forehead. He used to do that a lot when they were little.
Sam shook his head. He couldn’t tell Dean.
“Sammy, please. It’s okay.”
“Don’t leave me.” Sam hadn’t meant to say it. He couldn’t be selfish. He had to—
“What are you talking about?”
“You want to get rid of me,” Sam said, “to go be with your special someone. And, I know I can’t ask this of you, but I don’t want to be away from you. Not yet.”
Dean’s arms stiffened and he drew a deep breath, like steeling himself for something. Sam desperately hoped it wasn’t separation.
“There’s been no one, Sammy.” Dean kissed the top of his head. “I saw Bobby when I first arrived. There’s been no one else since then, Sammy. I was… I was waiting for you.”
Sam dared look up and saw Dean’s face, his cheeks a bright shade of red.
“Really?”
“I didn’t want to see anyone.” Dean smiled wryly. “Not without you.”
Sam remembered burying his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and crying after that. He didn’t know how many hours passed but he needed this. He needed to be a boy again. He needed his big brother’s arms to cry on again because he had no one to depend on like this. Not Eileen, or his son, or any of the other hunters. Sam had to be a husband, a father, a leader for them.
But not for Dean. For Dean, Sam just had to be his baby brother.
~~~
After what felt like days, the sky darkened. No light around them, just the stars. Dean nudged Sam away and pulled out of the car.
“Dean?”
Dean smiled and helped him climb on the hood before going back to the backseat and reemerging with two beers.
“We are underage.” Sam pointed out.
Dean rolled his eyes and sat down next to him. He opened and pushed a beer bottle his way. Sam reluctantly took it. He took a sip and —
“This is not beer.”
Dean took a sip and grinned.
“Well, maybe Heaven knows that we won’t like beer in this size.” Dean laughed and took another sip of his soda. “Haven’t had one of these in a while.”
“How does eating work here?” Sam thought about it for the first time in hours, or days, or however long they had been driving for. “It feels like I’ve already been here for so long and haven’t eaten anything.”
“It’s heaven, Sammy.” Dean lay down against the windshield. “You only eat if you want to eat.”
“So you’ve been hitting the cheeseburgers here?” Sam lay down as well, taking his position next to his brother. “Or was it the pies?”
“Neither actually.” Dean chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve had anything since that first beer I drank with Bobby.”
“Nothing at all?” Sam drew closer to his brother. “But you love food.”
“I was waiting for you.” Dean pulled Sam in his arms. “Nothing felt right without you.”
Sam let his head rest against Dean’s chest. They looked at the stars for hours. Day never came. Sam got sleepy.
“Do we need sleep?” He asked, uncertainly.
“We don’t need sleep.” Dean pecked Sam’s forehead. “But you can take a nap, Sammy. I will be right here when you wake up.”
Sam was tentative about letting Dean out of his sight, but he trusted his brother, and they were safe here.
“You promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” Dean hummed. “Sleep, Sammy. I’ve got you.”
Sam slept. It was the best sleep he had in years.
~~~
They fell into a rhythm. Dean would drive and Sam would tell him about his life, Eileen and Dean Jr, the hunter operation he led for a few years, his retirement, and his job as a librarian. Dean listened attentively and made offhand comments here and there.
“Seems like you had a full life, huh?” He said when Sam concluded.
“I guess…” Sam murmured. It didn’t feel like a full life. If anything, Sam never felt complete. Dean had taken a part of Sam’s heart with him in Heaven, a part of his soul. No matter what Sam went through, be it his wedding, or Dean Jr’s birth, something was always missing. “Wish you were there, man.”
“You wouldn’t have gotten out of the life if I was around.” Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened a bit. “Kinda sad I didn’t get to meet my nephew though.”
“You will meet him,” Sam said. “Eventually.”
“I guess I will, huh.” Dean smiled. “I hope it takes a while though. I want you all to myself for at least a couple of years.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
~~~
Dean eventually complained about wanting to take a hot shower and Sam asked whether they had a house in Heaven.
“We don’t but…” Dean fell silent, then grinned. “I mean, I’ve never needed one before but I do now. So it should show up if we keep driving.”
It showed up, alright. But it was no house. It was a motel. No clerk manned the desk. They could check themselves in. They had their pick of rooms but chose the standard double queen one. Sam bristled at the familiarity of it all.
Dean took the bed closest to the door. He dropped his duffle there and made a beeline for the bathroom.
Sam lay down on his bed and looked at the peeling-off wallpaper. Nothing like a good old ratty motel in the middle of nowhere. And the best part? They were alone, they could stay as long as they wanted, and judging from Dean’s moans of appreciation there was hot water.
By the time Dean finished with his prolonged shower, Sam had turned little once again and had snuck under the covers of Dean’s bed, waiting for him.
Dean eyed him with confusion as he picked up a pair of boxers and a T-shirt.
“Saw a bad dream, Sammy?” He joked.
“Yeah,” Sam said, shyly. “You died in it.”
Dean’s face softened and he got under the covers with Sam, his adult body slowly turning to the skinny teenager he had been at thirteen. Somehow, Dean’s age always matched Sam’s.
“Sorry for making you go through that.” Dean’s hands stroked Sam’s hair. “But it’s over now, Sammy. I’m here.”
“Promise you won’t leave my side ever again.” Sam sounded clingy and selfish. He knew that. But he hadn’t allowed himself to be this selfish in years. He only became this selfish with his brother.
Dean didn’t answer immediately.
“Dean?”
“I…” Dean bit his lip. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” Sam admitted, his childish wish out there in the open now for Dean to judge.
“Always,” Dean repeated in a trance.
“Even at Stanford,” Sam said, hurriedly. It took him a few seconds to locate where Dean’s mind had run off to. “I wanted you there, even then. I missed you every day, every hour, every second. My mind trailed off to you everywhere I went. You were there in the little things, you know. Like how I couldn’t get my mac n’ cheese to taste like yours, or how every time I ate fast food and didn’t want part of my meal, I couldn’t just pass it on to you. Or how I had to iron my clothes on my own…” Sam trailed off. So many things had reminded him of Dean. It would take him days to finish listing them out loud.
“Go on,” Dean said.
Sam kept going and going and Dean never stopped him. It felt like he talked for weeks about Stanford and Dean listened. He stroked Sam’s hair and kissed his forehead. He pulled him close and they teared up at their missed years, the years they spent apart.
“I’m sorry for never calling, Sammy,” Dean murmured against his head. “I… At first, I was hurt, you know. Because you left us, left me. But then I just… I knew you had to do this. I knew how much it meant to you and I didn’t want…” He shook his head, trailing off.
“Go on.”
“I didn’t want to mess it up.” His grip on Sam tightened. “I thought you hated me. I was terrified, Sammy. I thought that if I called, I would lose you once and for all. I don’t know what I would have done if you hanged up or told me to get dead or—”
Sam was older now, around thirty, and he towered over Dean’s pre-teen body. He pulled Dean in his arms and kissed the top of his head like Dean had been doing for the past few days.
“I’m sorry for making you feel like that,” Sam said. “I’m sorry I never… I’m sorry I’m always so damn selfish, and asking the impossible from you. You had done everything for me, given up everything for me, and I… I couldn’t even give you this one thing you needed. I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Were you reading shrink books after I died?” Dean joked, tears in his eyes.
Sam noticed that for once Dean’s body didn’t follow Sam’s age shift. That meant Dean felt safe with Sam comforting him now, right? That this was okay? Sam wasn’t messing this up more than before, right? He didn’t—
“Sam.” Dean smacked his head lightly. “You’re overthinking again.”
“Sorry.”
“Too many sorries for one day, man.” Dean buried his face in Sam’s shoulder. “I just… I know you want me around, Sammy. After the Mark of Cain, I knew you did. It’s probably just my teenage self wanting to create drama.”
“Right.” Sam rolled his eyes, allowing Dean to go back to acting like he had no feelings. Not that his tough act ever worked on Sam after his early twenties. Frankly, Sam didn’t know how he missed it before. Probably because he was a selfish child and a selfish teen and a selfish brother and—
“Overthinking,” Dean grumbled again. “What is it? Something’s been eating at you for a while now.”
“No.”
“Sammy.” Dean glared.
“I’m selfish, alright. I always was. And it took you dying for me to realize it.”
“You’re joking, right?” Dean pulled back, regaining his adult appearance. “ You are selfish? Did you hit your head on the gates of Heaven or something?”
“Heaven has gates?”
“Probably not. Not the point though.”
Sam just fell back on the bed with a sigh.
“What do you want me to say, Dean?” He pulled the balls of his hands to his eyes. “I’ve always been selfish.”
“No, you haven’t.” Dean sat up, looking down at Sam. “You were always willing to sacrifice everything to save the world, Sam. More than I ever did. You took on leading all those hunters without a word of complaint no matter how much responsibility they pushed on you. That’s not selfish, Sam. That’s the farthest thing from being selfish.”
“I didn’t mean…” Sam sighed again. “I was selfish with you, Dean. When I was with you, I knew I could ask for the world and you would bend over backward to give it to me. And I asked you to do it, Dean. So many times.”
“Oh.” Dean reached some kind of understanding and burst into laughter.
Affronted, Sam sat up and glared at him.
“Dude, come on.” Dean pushed him softly. “That’s not being selfish. We are family. That much is normal.”
“No, Dean, it’s not. It’s… weird. We are weird.”
“Newsflash, Sammy. Hunters are weird.”
“No, what we have… our relationship, what I think of you, what I ask of you, it’s so… it’s weird even within hunter families. Like, it feels like you have no inhibitions about following my whims and indulging my quirks. I could ask you to blow me right now and you would probably do it.”
“You want me to blow you?” Dean frowned.
“See what I mean?” Sam sighed.
“See what?”
“The fact of the matter is: you would blow me if I asked.”
“Okay, well, maybe? I don’t know.”
“See? Isn’t that weird?”
“It’s just a blowjob, Sam.”
“You. Don’t. Like. Men.” Sam punctuated each word with a light shove to Dean’s chest.
“Well, yeah. But you don’t count.”
“I know I don’t. And that’s just the thing. You’ve never even given a blowjob to a man before and somehow you would do it if I asked you to.”
“First of all, I have given a blowjob. Once. Funny story actually, it was a threesome.”
“Can you not turn this into a sex recollection thing?”
“You started it.”
“The point is: you shouldn’t be okay with this.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am your brother. Brothers don’t give each other blowjobs.”
“Okay?” Dean frowned again. “I don’t get it, man. Do you want a blowjob or do you not want a blowjob. I am confused.”
“No, I… I don’t want a blowjob.” Sam sighed. Dean just wouldn’t understand what he tried so hard to explain. “It’s not even about the blowjob. It’s about you listening to my demands.”
“Do you… You don’t want me to listen to you? Is that what you are trying to say? Because that’s the weirdest thing you’ve said all day.”
Sam let out a frustrated grunt.
“Oh, come on, man. What is this really about?”
“I just feel bad about it, okay? You’ve been doing this since I was a baby. And I didn’t know any better back then, sure. But I grew up and yet I still inherently know that if I really want something and I say it a certain way and look at you in a certain way, you are gonna give in. No matter what it is.”
“Like the blowjob?”
“Yes, like the freaking blowjob!” Sam groaned. Dean tended to bring sex into discussions that did not in any way involve it. Naturally, Sam had just given him free rein of the sexual jokes when he brought blowjobs into the game.
Dean looked at him for a few more seconds, then sighed. He sat up straighter and motioned for Sam to come cuddle again. Sam hesitated maybe for two seconds before burying his face in Dean’s chest again.
“Just for the record, I allowed your puppy eyes to have that effect on me,” Dean said softly, his arms holding Sam close. “And I don’t care what is wrong or right, normal or weird. All I know is that I want to take care of you and I love doing that. So, stop feeling bad about giving me the opportunity to do it.”
“You sound deranged,” Sam murmured against Dean’s shirt.
“Yeah? That makes two of us.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.” Dean chuckled. “Do you still want that blowjob?”
Sam pushed Dean off the bed. Served him right for always clinging on to the sexual part of their discussions.
~~~
They found a hidden doorway a week later. Dwelling at the motel for days on end, watching old shows, and playing board games served as a great pastime. Sam and Dean spent most of those days as kids. They found the door in the middle of a hide-and-seek game. Dean found it, or more specifically fell inside it. Sam spent a good minute laughing before helping him up.
The doorway led to the bunker, their bunker, their home. Dean audibly whooped in excitement. Sam rolled his eyes but he loved the idea of reading all of the library books now that he had unlimited time. Dean could work on the cars in the garage or explore his supposedly secret culinary hobby.
Sam hadn’t understood why Heaven thought they needed the bunker at first. Though Sam had come to call it home for a long stretch of time, it stopped being that for him when Dean was gone. It had become a reminder of bad memories. But now, in its confines again, Sam could see it for what it really was: Dean’s place.
Dean thrived in the bunker. From the moment they stepped foot in it, in Lebanon Kansas, Dean started ‘nesting’. In a weird turn of fate, Dean needed stability, not Sam. The bunker gave him that. Sam couldn’t see it at first but now with a clear Heaven-filtered vision, he saw his brother flourish.
The cooking, the cleaning, the decorating, the fixing. All led to a single result: Dean smiling like a little boy at Christmas.
Sam was Dean’s home and Dean was Sam’s. That would never change. But if Sam had to choose a place to claim as his, it would be the passenger seat in the Impala or the bed furthest from the door in motel rooms. Dean’s place had always been the bunker.
It made sense that their places were connected though. The real bunker had been sound-proof. This one didn’t have that attribute. Sam could hear Dean in the bunker kitchen from his bed in the motel room. It was perfect.
~~~
It took months or years of them getting enough of each other in the confines of their place before they ventured to go meet some friends. The Impala had always been home so saying a temporary goodbye to the motel-bunker didn’t sadden him at all.
They went to Bobby first. They had a few beers. Bobby scolded them for not visiting sooner but the scolding had been obligatory at most. He seemed to know exactly why Sam and Dean hadn’t met with other people in years.
They chose Jody and Donna for their second visit. The two women had a sheriff's station as their home. This station had something real stations didn’t though; a bar in the corner. Sam and Dean were treated to ‘girly’ drinks with umbrellas in them. Claire showed up halfway through the day ‘looking for a beer’ but everyone knew she just wanted to see them. She had died at forty but looked very satisfied with her way of dying; killed by a demigod in Iowa while protecting Alex’s daughter. Alex hadn’t shown up yet.
For their third visit, they chose Charlie. Surprisingly, they also found Pamela at her place. Pamela had her eyesight back and the two girls played a variant of Monopoly on their living room floor. Sam wasn’t sure which one was winning. Dean pulled Charlie aside for a moment and when he came back, he told Sam that the two were dating.
It was high time to address the prospect of meeting their parents, but they searched for the Roadhouse instead. Ellen and Jo stood at the bar, having a drinking contest. Ash had taken an interest in topology and experimented at a table in the back. Strange objects were on the table. Ash tried to explain what he was trying to do but the complex mathematics flew right over Sam’s head. Dean had taken an interest and joined the drinking contest at that point.
They were running out of places to visit. Dean drove for days on end and Sam knew he didn’t feel ready to meet their parents yet. He didn’t ask him why. He stayed silent and waited. What felt like a lifetime later, Dean pulled up in front of a house identical to the one they had in Kansas before the fire.
“Sam, Dean!” Mary’s voice carried over from the house.
Sam stepped out of the car and was immediately faced with a young Mary Winchester pulling him tightly in her arms. He leaned down and hugged back.
“Hey, Mom.” Sam smiled.
“You two took forever,” John Winchester’s gruff voice said.
Sam turned to see a young Dad and Dean pulling back from a hug, smiling.
Tentatively, Sam trudged the short distance to the entrance and embraced his father as well. He watched Dean step back and go after Mary.
With the necessary hugs out of the way, all four of them found their way into the Winchesters’ kitchen. Sam had only seen this place twice; when they worked a case in their old home, and in Dean’s heaven. Now, it looked just like it did in Dean’s heaven, giving off ‘home, sweet home vibes’.
Dean offered to cook and Mary almost didn’t let them go when she found out how delicious Dean’s cooking could be.
“He always had a knack for that,” John said. “Made his first mac n’ cheese at six.”
“Six?” Mary blinked rapidly. “However did you reach the counter?”
“Chairs exist.” Dean shrugged.
“You shouldn’t have been leaving him anywhere near a stove at that age.” Mary glared at John.
“It’s okay, Mom. It wasn’t my first time or anything.” Dean chuckled.
Mary frowned and turned an expression of indignation at John, who honest-to-god made a move to get under the table.
Dean, realizing he might have just doomed their Dad to a few days on the couch, quickly tried to take his statement back.
“I’m joking, Mom.”
Sam knew that Dean still believed that having to prepare Sam’s bottle at the tender age of four was somehow normal, and expected of him. The two of them had talked about this before. No matter how much Sam tried, Dean refused to accept a reality where he didn’t do that for Sam. Dean’s refusal put Sam’s emotions on a rollercoaster. It made Sam’s heart warm and fuzzy at how far Dean had been willing to go for him. It made Sam want to throttle his father for forcing this on him so early on.
Mary looked at Dean then John in confusion. Then her eyes fell to Sam. She stared at him and Sam knew the moment she saw the truth.
Sam and Dean didn’t stay to watch the fight unfold. Mary hugged them tightly; Dean a bit more tightly. And then she bid them farewell and dragged John to the other room. John barely got a goodbye out before Mary shut the door to their bedroom. The two of them remained seated on the table until they heard the first heated words come out of Mary’s mouth. Then they were out of the house and back to the car.
~~~
Dean stopped the car a few miles away from their parents’ house. He put his head against the wheel and sighed loudly.
“I messed up.” He breathed out.
“Dude.” Sam rolled his eyes. “ You did nothing of the sort. Dad messed up. Big time.”
“Dad was doing—”
“ —the best he could, I know.” Sam sighed and put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “But I’ve told you this before. No four-year-old should be left close to an actual stove, much less without an adult’s supervision.”
“I shouldn’t have mentioned it to Mom,” Dean mumbled against the wheel like everything was somehow his fault. “Why does everyone get weird when I mention this stuff…”
“Dean…”
“I liked doing that.” Dean exhaled. “After the fire… I didn’t have anything to cling to… Anything except you. It… gave me purpose. I wanted someone to…”
Sam watched as Dean’s body became smaller, smaller than Sam had ever seen him.
“I wanted someone to see what a good job I was doing. And everyone just gave me these pitying looks… The teachers, the people at the park. Everyone just… They didn’t see that I liked it.” Dean had turned five and looked scared, vulnerable, and small in the confines of the car.
“I’m sorry, Dean.” Sam stroked Dean’s floppy hair softly. “I’m sorry no one ever gave you what you needed back then.”
“Sammy did.” Tears fell down Dean’s cheeks. “Taking care of Sammy was what I needed. But no one saw that. No one understood. Not even Dad.”
Sam pulled Dean in his arms, his small body fitting perfectly on Sam’s long torso. Sam shushed him, stroked his back, and let him cry.
“It’s okay that you liked it, Dean,” Sam said. “Liking isn’t wrong. But it should have been your choice, not a necessity. Do you understand this, Dean? That’s why Mom got angry with Dad. Not because Dad let you take care of me, but because he forced you to. Do you understand this? I need you to understand this, Dean.”
Dean just held on to Sam’s shirt like a lifeline, hiding his tears in Sam’s chest, whispering weak apologies.
Sam had half a mind to take the car around and go give John a part of his mind, scream at him for making Dean cry. But he didn’t. Because Dean needed him more. Needed him here.
~~~
Sam drove them back home.
Dean had fallen asleep on the front seat, his head resting against Sam’s thigh and snoring softly.
Sam put the car gingerly in park and hoisted Dean in his arms. He carried him inside and put him to bed. He didn’t leave his side though. He sat down on the floor next to the bed and held onto Dean’s tiny hand.
How could his brother even hold a baby up with these tiny hands? How could he hold a bottle of milk and feed him? Sam appreciated what Dean had done for him but he also knew how wrong it was to force a toddler to do what even adults had trouble doing sometimes.
Dean had no knowledge or physical power to raise Sam. So he gave him the only thing he had: his love.
And Dean might not believe it, but it was enough. Dean’s love was always enough because it was always too raw and strong and edging on too much. Scratch that, definitely too much. So it got Sam through his childhood and his teens. It got Sam through so much until Sam decided to get away from it, spent four years deprived of it, and then came back to find it intact and overflowing like always.
Sam had spent decades without his brother at his side. Dean didn’t know that the only thing that pushed him through those years was all the love he had given him, fed him for the first thirty-something years of his life. He fed him so much, it lasted decades after he was gone. Sam wanted to give it back somehow. He didn’t know how.
~~~
Dean woke up hours later and pulled his hand away from Sam’s, embarrassed.
“Dean.” Sam rolled his eyes. “We are in Heaven. I think you have the leeway to cry sometimes.”
“Shut up,” Dean grunted, his body going back to an adult’s.
Sam chuckled and let his brother have his way. For now, at least. Dean had shown enough emotion for a week. Sam could give him a break. Dealing with Dean’s repressed emotions was Sam’s specialty after all.
Sometimes, Dean slept in his room in the bunker. Sam always preferred the motel room. The empty bed next to him always startled him every morning. He wanted Dean close. As close as possible.
Heaven, naturally, had a way to give you exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t know it. Sam had not consciously wished for this. It happened anyway.
It had to be a few months after they visited their parents when — after a quick trip to meet Kevin and his mother — they returned to their motel room to find the two queens magically turned into a king. For a short moment, Sam wondered whether they entered the wrong room but apart from the change of the beds, everything else screamed that the two of them had lived there. Sam’s laptop on the nightstand, Dean’s porn magazines on the floor, and what had to be the finishing touch, the door to the bunker.
It took Sam a few more moments of eerie silence to realize he might have inadvertently caused this. He wanted Dean close, sure. Sleeping in the same bed sounded like a dream, sure.
Dean would never have it though.
Sam turned to his brother, the excuse ready on his lips, ready to deny all accusations and—
Dean’s face had changed to red. Not the usual pink. Cartoon-like red. The color had reached the edges of his ears and the bottom of his neck.
“Dean?”
He didn’t answer. He looked away like the stain on the generic wallpaper had become the most interesting thing in the world.
“You…” The word died in Sam’s mouth. His frown shifted into a wide grin. “Is this something you want, Dean?”
“Shut up.” Dean refused to look at him.
“Because I want it.” Sam wanted to whoop. He could sleep with Dean. In the same bed. Like when they were children. Sam wanted this more than he had ever wanted anything. He just had to make Dean understand and he could have it.
“Don’t lie.”
“Not lying and not backing away.” Sam stepped in front of his brother, forcing him to face him. “I want this, Dean. A lot. So if you… if you want it too, why can we not have this?”
“Because it’s wrong. We can’t—”
“It’s not. It can’t be. Not when we both want it.”
“Sam, we are not—”
“We can sleep as children at first.” Sam smiled encouragingly. “Until you get used to it. Because, let me tell you this, I have never slept better than when we share a bed. Please let me have this, Dean. You want me to be happy, right?” And Sam turned on the puppy eyes for good measure.
Expectedly, Dean folded. He always did.
And Sam had no qualms about putting his little brother power to work. Not when he knew that whatever he was asking for, Dean wanted ten times more.
~~~
It was perfect. Sam slept to the rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat in his ear and woke up to his light snoring. Just having Dean breathing next to him brought Sam immense joy.
Light came in from the window, making little Dean’s blondish hair practically sparkle. Sam would place him around the age of six, which would put Sam at two. They started as young as they could go. Sam wondered if Heaven would let him turn into a baby. But being an old man in a baby’s body sounded way too weird even to him.
Whatever, he didn’t care about the intricacies of Heaven. All he cared about narrowed down to his brother’s warm body against his, Dean’s overflowing love for him close enough to choke him. Sam hadn’t been so calm in ages.
“Sammy…” Dean breathed against Sam’s chubby cheek.
“Yes, Dean?”
“This is the best.”
Sam grinned.
“Of course it is. We are together, aren’t we?”