jasmasson

Author: Jas Masson
Title: Sleep
Rating: PG13 for language
Category: Gen (at least it’s meant to be – I guess it’s one of those ones where you can squint for pre-slash), Dean POV, short epilogue to ‘Hunted’
Spoilers: Hunted
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, not true, blah blah...
Characters: Dean, Sam
Summary: Sam’s all grins and sunshine and Dean clings doggedly onto his bad mood in the face of Sam’s bright smile, because fuck him.

***

The night after Ava’s disappearance Sam sleeps pretty well, considering, which is a testament to how tiring getting thrown around by Gordon is, because Dean knows Sam’s worried about her, because she’s either been taken or killed by the demon, or butchered her fiancé and gone off to study Demonic Psychic Soldier 101.

Dean knows Sam sleeps because Dean doesn’t get any fucking sleep at all, even though he was thrown around by Gordon too. And knocked out. And made to think his brother was dead.

Dean doesn’t sleep because every tiny sound wakes him; cars outside, the next room’s TV, dogs barking, the non-rhythmic dripping of the tap in their tiny bathroom, fucking crickets.

It’s been too many years of shared rooms and night trips to the toilet, so the sound of Sam moving in the night hasn’t registered as !noise! !wake up! on Dean’s subconscious for a long time, and he doesn’t even know how to recognize it anymore. Every fucking noise is like the sound of Sam’s footsteps now, is like the sound of the door closing behind him, and Dean wakes up throughout the night at every little fucking thing; heart beating furiously, eyes searching out Sam’s broad shoulders in the next bed, ears straining for the sound of his soft breathing.

About 3 am Dean gives up the effort and watches (Sam sleep) infomercials.

***

The next day he’s cranky as all hell and his eyes feel like he’s rubbed sand in them. He’s really too fucking tired to drive and the passenger seat looks pretty damn inviting, but Sam doesn’t deserve to drive his baby, so Dean mainlines coffee and concentrates hard on the road.

Sam’s just as sweet as he can be, not complaining about the music, talking through articles in the newspaper, not bitching about the cholesterol content of Dean’s breakfast. Sam’s all grins and sunshine and Dean clings doggedly onto his bad mood in the face of Sam’s bright smile, because fuck him.

Frankly Dean doesn’t actually like it when Sam’s nice to him, which is, yes, fairly fucked up, thank you. But Dean is the only person who gets the sharp side of Sam’s tongue, who sees Sam’s black temper. He’s the only one who doesn’t experience Sam’s infinite impersonal patience and understanding. He hates Sam treating him carefully, like a spooked witness on a hunt, like Dean’s fragile or something because Dean is. Fucking. Not.

Still, Sam’s guilt or whatever, means Dean gets uninterrupted Metallica and the pick of the diner for dinner, so Dean overlooks it.

***

Dean books them into a motel like he always does unless the job’s pressing and they’ve got to keep on the road.

Sam raises an eyebrow when he sees the solitary king sized bed in their room.

“It’s all they had free,” Dean says kicking the door closed behind him, “suck it up, bitch.”

Sam’s eyebrows stay raised for a moment, and perhaps he’s thinking about the mostly empty parking lot of the motel, but he shrugs and heads for the bathroom without comment.

Although they went to bed a manly distance apart, when Dean wakes up in the night he’s wrapped around Sam, with his face pressed into Sam’s neck and one hand clenched tightly in the material of Sam’s t-shirt.

He thinks from Sam’s breathing Sam’s probably awake, and that’s undoubtedly what woke Dean (hah, try and sneak out of the same bed without me waking, asshole), but it doesn’t matter because Sam’s arms are wrapped gently around Dean and Sam’s showing absolutely no inclination to move.

Dean goes back to sleep and sleeps through until morning.

***

A/N: My first effort in Supernatural, which has recently hijacked my life, so all comments appreciated.