Ask Your Brother, Chapter 2

[veritas_st]

Icon "stolen" from the very talented, very awesome the_last_shadow .

Ok, so this is slowly taking on a mind of its own.  It started out as a one shot, but now Margot has walked me straight into a job!  *bitch slaps Margot* 

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Sam hates mornings, he hates the honesty of them, the time before your consciousness switched on the light and gets rid of all the shadows.

Of course, being bought up the way he and Dean were, shadows are part of your life. But he hates having to pretend that the night before hadn’t happened, that he hadn’t held his brothers shaking body in his arms, whispering incoherent words of comfort into unhearing ears, trying to get unseeing eyes to see him. He especially hates having to pretend that he didn’t want to kiss all Dean’s fears away.

“Rise and shine Sammy.” Dean was sitting on the other bed in yet another motel room, some nondescript deep fried pastry making its final journey to his mouth.

Sam groaned into his pillow and pretended it was because of the ungodly hour, nothing to do with the thought of Dean’s mouth.

“We got a job?” He asked sleepily, his mouth forming the words that he hadn't even thought about yet, because, he needed to say something, anything to get the thought of hot kisses and rough hands out of his mind.

“Not yet, but I’m thinking I eat breakfast whilst you trawl the internet for weird goings on.” Dean answered through the mouthful that had completed the journey from sugar coated container to mouth, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. Sam shook his head.

“No rest for the wicked”

“Don’t know about you Sammy, but I ain’t wicked...now hurry up, I'm starving.” Dean walked towards the bathroom, toothbrush in hand.

“Dean...are we gonna talk about last night?” Sam asked, leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. He saw Dean's forearm and jaw muscles twitch. Sam was expecting this, he didn't think Dean would let him as far in as his did last night and just let him stay. Dean was brilliant as pushing people away, it was his specialty.

“Dude, you sound so gay when you say it like that.” Apparently so was brushing things off as a joke. Dean grinned around his toothbrush at Sam. Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Dean...” He began, his voice hard, talk to me, hanging in the air between them. Dean rinsed his mouth and spat water into the sink. A drop ran down his chin and Sam nearly leant forward to catch it with his thumb, but Dean swiped it away first.

“Sam. I'm fine. Ok? Can we just not do this now?” He said, his eyes begging for him. Sam stared at him for a while, trying to read his expression, Dean closed off, throwing up the walls he had perfected over the years until Sam nodded. But they both knew it was only a matter of time before Sam bought it up again.

“I’m starving, let’s get breakfast and I’ll fill you in on the job.” Dean grinned, all happy smiles again.

“How can you be starving, you just ate?” Sam asked, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

“What can I say, I’m insatiable.”

 

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“You've got to be kidding me.” Dean looked confused, surprised with a hint of amusement.

“Shut your mouth Dean, no body needs to see that.” Sam said, turning back to the laptop on the table in front of him.

“Sammy, seriously? Fairies? Wish granting Tinkerbell's? Clap if you believe in them?” Dean asked through a mouthful of pancake. A drop of syrup glistened on his lower lip and Sam fought the urge to wipe it away with his thumb then put his thumb in his mouth to taste syrup and Dean.

“No...Fey, not fairies. And anyway, fairies were almost dark magic, primal stuff, neither good or bad, kinda be careful what you wish for. Look at Tinkerbell for god's sake, she plotted to kill Wendy.” Sam trailed off at the look on Dean's face. “What?”

“Dude, you're so gay.” He said, and then grinned over the top of his coffee mug. Sam rolled his eyes, an expression he had perfected over the years.

"And anyway, you thought angels didn’t exist and you have your very own one, following you around like a lost...” Sam trailed off, unable to think of a suitable word to describe Castiel.

“Puppy?” Dean offered, not because he thought Castiel was following him around like a lost puppy, but Sam had the look on his face that usually meant he was going to insult someone.

“No, accountant.” Sam resisted the urge to shudder at the irrational pang of jealousy that reared its ugly head at the mention of Castiel. The image of Castiel sitting next to his brother on the park bench, staring out across the park, and for some reason Sam knew that Castiel wanted to be looking at Dean instead, floated across his mind.

Dean was munching on his bacon now and wiping greasy hands against his jeans. Something flickered across Dean's face at the insult Sam casted at Castiel but it was quickly replaced with Dean's usual indifference mixed with arrogance.

“Fine.”

“So, as I was saying, I've been checking this out and this kid...” Sam emphasised his point by turning the laptop round and showing Dean. Dean squinted against the bright lights of the diner and Sam's heart constricted. It was such an innocent gesture, one he was used to, one Dean did all the time, and Sam didn't know what was wrong with him that made that gesture suddenly seem like the most perfect thing in the world.

Dean leant back and nodded, and Sam cleared his throat.

“So this kid...” Sam said, glad that his voice didn't sound as shaky as he felt. “Disappears five years ago, and suddenly shows up, out of the blue in the backyard of the parent’s old house, wondering where her parents are.”

“Where had she been?” Dean asked, pushing his plate aside and trying to take a look at the screen again. Sam pulled the laptop out of his reach and nodded to the serviettes. Dean rolled his eyes but grabbed one anyway.

“No body knows, she claims she was in the garden the whole time, playing with the “little people”, she said she came back because she was hungry.”

“I'd be fricking starving if I hadn't eaten for three years...wait...little people?”

“Yep.”

“So she was away with the fairies.” Dean smirked.

Sam didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Because he hadn't seen Dean get so excited about a case for a long time, but he knew it was just a front. It might be a deep front, but it was a front nevertheless.

Dean was still grinning at his own joke.

“Right, let's split up. You go speak to the parents, I'll speak to the police.” Sam suggested. Dean frowned.

“You speak to the parents, you have those puppy dog eyes that work every time. And I am, lets face it, awesome at intimidation.” The grin was back so Sam could do nothing but agreed.