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“So what did you get?” Dean asked Sam as he walked through the door of the pub and slumped into the chair in front of him. Dean grinned and pushed over a beer which Sam took gratefully.
“A whole lotta nothing.” Sam replied before taking a long pull on his beer. Dean averted his eyes just so he wouldn't loose track of what he wanted to say. The long line of Sam's throat entirely too distracting. Dean frowned at himself, wondering when Sam's neck had become a distraction rather than just a way of keeping his brothers head on his body. He shook his head to clear it.
“Any advance on nothing?” He asked. Sam shook his head but explained anyway.
“Parent's know nothing. Are ecstatic to have their kid back, don't seem to notice that she hasn't aged at all in three years. Either that or they don't care. I'm voting for “don't care” myself.” Sam replied, running a hand through his hair in a way that made Dean want to hug his brother.
“You?” Sam asked.
“What?” Sam looked at him, a quizzical expression on his face.
“Dude, you ok?” No Sammy, Dean wanted to say, I'm not ok, I keep thinking about you in completely inappropriate situations and I'm not sleeping, having nightmares about hell and the only time they stop is when I'm in your arms.
“Yeah, fine. So the local cops had the sum total of nothing either. Can't explain it. They have no leads, funnily enough, because they don't have a database of kidnapping fairies.” Dean said. Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Dude...Fey, not fairies.”
“Oh what's the difference Sam? No, don't answer that.” Sam snapped his mouth shut so fast that Dean could have sworn that he heard the click from across the table.
Sam grabs the empty beer bottles and Dean nods when he waves the bottle in front of his face. He watches Sam weave is way through the bar and wants to slam his head against the table.
His brother, the one person that he longed to see after he crawled out of his own grave. The one person that can make his smile when he least feels like it. And its driving him crazy because he can't even look at his brother without feeling like he's going to pass out, or kiss him until they both pass out, and neither of those two options are particularly desirable.
Ok, wrong choice of word, Dean thought as he stared at Sam's hand absent-mindedly stripping the label from the bottle of beer.
Dean thinks that he is probably going to go to hell...again, when images of hands against sweat slick skin, the feel of stubble catching on stubble and blessed sweet release run across his mind. And the thought scared him, not just because, its his brother that he's thinking about, but because he just can't be away from Sam, his life, the other part of his soul, his breath.
Sam smiled at him then, over the table and all thoughts of hell melt away into the background.
“So...what does this mean?” Sam asked and for an insane moment Dean thought that Sam knew exactly what wicked thoughts were running through his head and he stared at Sam.
“Dude...seriously. What's wrong?” Sam sounded worried. I don't deserve that, Dean thought, don't deserve Sam.
“Nothing Sammy, sorry. Just tired. And no, no nightmares.” He said when he noticed Sam's pointed look. Must be exhausted, Dean thinks to himself, if I am thinking of reaching over the table and...
“Fine, so we've got nothing. I think we should check out the garden later, get some EMF readings?” Sam suggested.
“Yeah, ok.” Dean answered absentmindedly.
“Ok, who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Sam asked, looking kinda amused.
“What?”
“This isn't you Dean, you fight me every step of the way.”
“No I don't.” Dean snapped and then sighed at the triumphant look of Sam's face. “What? So I'm not allowed to agree with you now? It's been know to happen Sam, I mean, not often but...” He broke off and grinned at Sam over his bottle of beer, knowing it was pointless because Sam could always read through his smiles.
Dean knows the look that was plastered on Sam's face. It was the look that he had seen a thousand times, it was the look of hurt when Dean wouldn't open up. And just like last time, on the bench with Sam pleading Dean to tell him about Hell, Dean doesn't want to, because just like last time, this would ruin everything.
“Fine.” Sam replied. “Lets get something to eat, we'll go check out the garden later.”
“Hey Sammy?” Dean said, and Sam looks at him. “Why do fairies always live at the bottom of a garden?”
“Fey!” Dean laughed at the indignant look on Sam's face.
“Whatever Fairy boy...lets go eat.”
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“I can't quite believe we're doing this.” Dean whispered as they slunk silently through the side gate and down towards the end of the garden where the little girl had gone missing.
“We are sneaking into a garden to taking EMF readings for freaking fairies...sorry fey, and...do fairies even give off EMF?” He asked. Sam slapped the back of his head and put a finger to his lips, pointing to the house where a light was still on somewhere upstairs.
“Jeez Sammy. No need for violence.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
Sam glared at him in the semi-darkness. And suddenly Dean had the urge to turn away from him, because looking at him was starting to drive him crazy. He heard Sam sigh and switch on the reader whilst Dean investigated the rest of the garden, the comforting, familiar noise of Sam and the EMF reader carried on behind him.
“Oh you've got to be kidding me.” Dean narrowed his eyes. “Sam, I can't believe I am saying this but I think this might be a fairy ring.” Dean studied the perfect circle of toadstools on the ground. When no answer came Dean sighed and turned around to berate Sam for ignoring him. Cold, frigid and biting washed over him when the space where Sam had stood not 30 seconds before was empty.
“Sam?” Dean whispered. “Sammy?” He tried again and forgetting the family who were only a few meters away at the other end of the garden he shouted. “Sammy!” desperation and panic seeping into his voice, gripping him round the heart and squeezing, oh god not Sammy, please not Sammy.
A voice behind him made him spin around, gun pointed out in front of him.
“They took him.”
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