“This is ridiculous,” Dean muttered. Since he had come back he has seen Sam sleep three to four hours a night, and that was on a good night.
“What,” Sam looked up from the laptop. The ring of purple around his eyes looked like a bruise from a punch. Dean had had enough.
“You’re going to bed, now!”
“What am I, four,” Sam went back to looking at his laptop.
“No, four-year-olds are smart enough to go to sleep when they need to, you aren’t,” Dean wanted to be mad but one look from Sam’s puppy dog eyes had him stopping the lecture he had ready.
“Dean, they need me, I can’t just abandon them for sleep,” somehow those stupid puppy dog eyes were more effective when shining with sleep.
Dean made a noise at the back of his throat, “You’re no good to anyone if you’re too tired that you can’t make good decisions, Sam. You’re only human, you need sleep or have you forgotten what happened last time when you didn’t get enough sleep?”
Sam looked down but before he could hide it he saw shame swimming in his eyes. Crap. He didn’t want Sam to feel that way Dean just wanted to point out what happened when a person didn’t get sleep.
Dean did feel anger when he saw Sam going for the cup of coffee, “That’s it.”
“Hey, what the hell, Dean?”
Dean took the cup away from Sam and then closed the laptop before taking that away, too. He left Sam and went straight to Sam’s room knowing his little brother would follow.
“Dean, give them back!”
How could he sound so much like a snot-nosed brat at his age?
“No,” he put the laptop down and belatedly noticed he had brought the cup of coffee, too. He shrugged and chugged down its contents. It was pure black caffeine. Jesus, Sam was going to kill himself at the rate he was drinking that acid. It was so damn strong.
Dean put the now empty cup down and took a hold of a blanket before wrapping around a squirming Sam.
“You need sleep, Sammy,” Dean whispered. Sam didn’t really fight him when he guided him to the bed, “You’re no good to anyone if you’re tired, okay? You’re a remarkable person, Sammy, but even you need sleep. Even Superman rested, yeah?
“But,” whatever else Sam was going to say was interrupted with a yawn. Dean smiled and carded his hands through Sam’s hair. Like he expected Sam’s eyes started drooping. The little shit was fighting it though, like when he had been younger and wanted to hear another story.
Dean wasn’t having that. He started humming and Sam glared at him.
“Fine,” he conceded after a few moments of listening to Dean, “but only for a few hours.”
“Nope, you’re getting a solid eight hours.”
“But,” he had woken up a little bit. Dean put his foot down, or rather, he raised his hand to stop Sam’s argument.
“Sammy, you’ve been teaching them what to do, they’ve survived a war against angels. You need to let them take some of the weight off, okay? Besides, I’ll help them, too. I’ve been letting you shoulder this by yourself for too long but I’ll help now, okay?”
Sam stared up at Dean with big, pleading eyes. Dean’s fucking kryptonite. Usually, Sam would be able to get away with murder when he turned on those puppy eyes but Dean wasn’t going to let Sam continue this path even if he gave him that look.
“I promise, Sammy. Now sleep, I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”
Sam finally nodded and seconds after closing his eyes he went lax with sleep. Dean smiled, he loved when he got it his way.