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Sam watches as his brother paces back and forth down the small motel room. He’s not sure what’s got his brother so unsettled this time. He hasn’t been looking through lore books, his phone is off so John can’t text him, his sibling isn’t running a fever or hurt anywhere, at least not visibly. He’s at a loss of why his brother is so worked up.
“Dean, it’s okay. We’re okay.” Sam tries again despite this being the hundredth attempt at soothing his sibling. He already tried hugging him and settling him into a chair to watch a movie with him, but that didn’t work out either.
Anxiety stirs in him anytime his brother gets like this, but usually he can identify what’s triggering it. He has no idea what’s doing it this time and it’s stressing him out.
Dean glances around, eyes wide and alert as if searching for something that isn’t there. He does a full swivel with his head then just stares at the spot in-between both motel beds.
“Dean? What’s wrong?”
His sibling doesn’t reply, eyes watching intently. A few seconds pass then the sound of rushing feathers enters the air.
Castiel appears right in the spot his brother was staring at, smiling upon seeing the older Winchester.
“Hello, Dean.”
Dean grins, darting forward and pulling the angel into a quick, tight hug.
Sam blinks, mind stuttering for a few seconds. How did his brother know Castiel was coming? He doesn’t think angels can communicate with humans telepathically yet Dean was certain exactly where the angel would land.
“Cas.” Dean murmurs and Sam’s heart squeezes in his chest, unable to stop the emptiness from rushing in.
It’s not often that Dean speaks, but he still says Castiel’s name more than anyone else’s and says it in such a reverent way every time, like he’s been waiting to see his new favorite person.
It’s not that Sam is jealous either, he just feels…inadequate. Like he’s not enough to keep his sibling happy, like he’s failing to be the support system he needs.
The dark haired angel slowly pulls away from Dean then turns to Sam, his smile still present but waning a little as it always does when he’s not looking directly at the older Winchester.
“Hello, Sam.”
“Hey.” Sam greets him, eyeing his brother whose eyes are fixated on Cas, practically vibrating on the spot.
Maybe inadequate isn’t a strong enough word.
Maybe it’s unwanted.