Any person he knew would have probably told him he was insane. His dad would have probably been disappointed. Bobby would have tried to do everything to stop him. He himself still remembered all those times he said “what’s dead should stay dead”, judgmentally looking down on the people that couldn’t stand being without their loved ones. He should be ashamed of himself.
But truth was he didn’t care.
After watching Sam’s corpse for a long time, nothing mattered anymore. After the realization that Sam wouldn’t open his eyes ever again, that he wouldn’t be able to hear Sam’s voice and see his dimpled smile again dwelled over him, the world stopped. It was as if he was into a foggy state of mind, where nothing else mattered. Where he could still act and see and think, but only under the veil of the desperation of “Sam, Sam, Sam” that his grieving heart kept crying to him, aching, yearning. He needed Sam back. And if there was a way to have him again, he’d do it, he didn’t care about anything else.
So, he kept turning the pages of the necromancy book until he found what he was looking for. Bringing the dead back to life.
The book itself was creepy and ominous looking. Big and old, with a threatening aura and brownish pages that were made of who knows what. He was lucky he remembered his dad had written about that book on his journal, making sure to mention it should stay locked away in one of the curse boxes Bobby had built for him, and it should never be used, since it had very powerful spells and rituals that messed with dark powers and nature.
It was exactly what Dean needed, so he kept turning pages with menacing drawings of symbols and creatures and stuff he didn’t really understand but that he could ignore for now. It had warnings too. Dean barely gazed at them. He wanted the steps and the ritual.
When he found it, he checked again the list of materials, confirming he had everything he needed, and he revised the steps one more time, now by memory. He’d gotten everything. He was ready. Just this little thing and Sam would be back to the world of the living. Back to him. His heart was thumping loudly, pumping the blood fast and hard all over his body just by thinking about it, just by the idea of having Sam back.
He went to get Sam’s body, from where he had placed it over an old mattress on the room of the abandoned cabin in the woods that he had chosen to perform the ritual, and he carefully picked him up, bringing him to the place where he had everything ready. He lifted Sam’s body up as if he wasn’t incredibly heavy now, specially since he was completely limp and rigid. But Dean didn’t really feel the weight. Just like he didn’t feel the exhaustion and hunger that had been eating his body alive the last couple of days that he had been solely focused on getting the book, and then getting what he needed to perform the ritual. None of that mattered. He didn’t have time for that, all that mattered was bringing Sam back.
He lovingly placed Sam’s body over the bed of specific dead flowers and plants he had made in the middle of the symbols he had drawn on the floor, surrounded by black candles and with five dark elements of nature forming a star around him. Moonlight had to be touching Sam’s body all the time, so he made sure the opening on the window stayed like that. He put Sam’s hands over his own chest, making sure his hands were over his silent heart.
Sam looked like he was sleeping. Always so sweet and soft, his expression peaceful at last, after everything he had to go through, after having to carry so many burdens and worries since such a young age. Only that this time his pretty face was paler than usual. The moonlight rays accentuated it. Dean traced a few loose strands of his dirty fringe away from his forehead and face.
When Sam had died, Dean had spent who knows how long wrapped around Sam’s corpse, talking to him in a hushed voice, asking him to wake up, tracing his hair with his fingers, kissing his cold cheeks and pale face, bringing him closer to try to make him warm again. He had fallen asleep a few times, or lost consciousness, he really couldn’t tell, he just kept lying next to Sam, and when he woke up again he always wished it had been a nightmare. He always got up with a twisting painful feeling on his gut before calling out to Sam, expecting him to answer back, and when he didn’t, he could feel himself falling into despair deeper and more painful. He just couldn’t stand it. There had to be something he could do, and when he finally remembered the book, after spending so long with Sam’s corpse, there wasn’t a moment of hesitation. And now they were here. Sam’s body was still cold and hard, but soon it was going to be warm and soft again. He was going to make sure of it.
The moment his watch marked midnight he started the ritual, as it was written on the book. On a copper bowl he had previously washed and prepared with the details the book dictated, he mixed different ingredients, adding at the end a few strands of Sam’s hair, a drop of Sam’s blood, a page of the notebook he always carried around to take notes or write ideas during the hunts. That was to guide Sam’s soul back to his body. Now, he needed to add the payment for the spiritual world to open and for the dark forces to help him complete the task.
He turned to his back, to the woman tied and gagged he had on the room. He had brought her from the bar in the closest town. He just had to lure her with the promise of a fun night and then hit her on the head with his gun so it would be easier to tie her up and bring her to the cabin. He went towards her and slapped her a little to wake her up. She regained consciousness and immediately started trembling and crying, begging mutely, but Dean’s mind was still under the foggy haze of the yearning on his heart, of the screaming for “Sam, Sam, Sam”. He was so close, he wasn’t stopping now.
He ignored her attempts to fight or run and dragged her towards where he was performing the ritual. He took out a knife and put the bowl under her neck.
“It’ll be over soon.” He whispered softly, half-heartedly reassuring, and then he slashed her neck. Her sobs were muffled by the gag, and her fresh blood started dripping over the bowl, coloring the rest of materials that were already inside. When Dean felt the body on his arms grow limp, he put it away. It was almost done. There was just one more thing missing.
With the same knife, he slashed his own wrist and his own blood was added to the mix. He had to recite the words now, the spell in ancient language that offered himself, declaring he was ready to pay the needed price for an opening to the spiritual world.
The fire on the black candles grew big and fierce, lightening up the dark room of the cabin. Now Dean knew his call had been heard. It was the moment to ask for what he wanted. He grabbed the box of matches he always carried with him, the ones he and Sam had used a thousand times to finish a simple ‘salt and burn’ case, and took one out to light it up. He dropped the match over the copper bowl and when the fire made contact with it’s contents, the flames grew huge and menacing. That was when Dean recited the rest of the ritual, mumbling the ancient words that invoked the dark forces to bring back the soul of the deceased. He had memorized them, so they rolled easily out of his tongue. Then, he brought his open wound towards Sam’s mouth, forcing it open to let some more of his blood pour down inside it. He was getting dizzy, but this was the last step of the ritual. He had to “feed” Sam’s body so it could come back to life. He watched as his baby brother’s pale open mouth was slowly filled with his blood, and then he closed his eyes to say the last words of the spell. He made sure to keep Sam’s face on his mind, on his heart all the time, to call for his soul. Sam’s voice, Sam’s dimpled smile, Sam’s familiar scent and presence next to him on the car. Sam, Sam, Sam.
The fire of the candles around Sam’s body grew huge, almost shooting up to the ceiling, and surrounding him completely on a bright light. Dean squinted at the brightness blinding him and he heard ghostly whispers and dark mumbles all around him that had him shaking to the bones, feeling instinctively cold and full of dread until… there it was. A bright bluish light started forming over Sam’s chest, as if it was gathering over it, coming from somewhere, as if it was being pulled towards where Sam kept his hands over his chest. Dean felt something stirring with familiarity inside his own chest, resonating with that light, as if it knew it too well.
And then Sam’s eyes opened and he sucked in a huge breath, his body raising unnaturally. The light pushed itself inside Sam’s chest and before Dean could have time to react, it was all over.
The fire was extinguished and they were left in complete darkness. Dean could feel his heart pounding as if it was about to explode inside his chest and for a long moment he couldn’t move. It took him a whole minute to be able to stop shaking when Sam’s body dropped back on the floor.
Then Sam’s eyes opened again, he got up with a loud gasp and he started coughing.
Dean felt the tears forming on his eyes, but he swallowed them and immediately went towards his baby brother, desperately calling out his name, trying to grab him, to do something, to help him stop coughing and breathe normally.
When he put his hands over Sam’s body and felt it was warm and soft again, Dean had to hold back a pathetic sob.
“D-Dean?” Sam asked, confused and still coughing a little, but starting to breathe normally. That was Sam’s voice and Dean felt how stopping the tears was getting harder. Sam looked at him, confused, and his pretty hazel eyes were glossy and wet, but alive. They were staring at him again and Dean could die of happiness and relief. “Dean, what happened--…? What is--…?”
Sam’s questions got squeezed out of him when his big brother wrapped his arms around him and pressed hard and tight, crushing him against his body. Sam complained in a pained moan, it felt as if his big brother wanted to break his bones, but when he noticed the way Dean was trembling, he forgot about it.
“Dean? What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, confusion replaced by worry and completely audible on his voice. He returned the hug, because Dean didn’t seem to want to let go. “Dean?”
“Sam.” Dean mumbled, shaky voice and breathless. He pressed his face over Sam’s neck and he felt the warmth and the pulse. Alive. He breathed in Sam’s scent mixed with dirt and the staleness of having spent days… immobile. It wasn’t the nicest smell, but he smelled alive. The dullness of the scent of death was gone and Dean felt like he could sing of happiness. He only sighed deeply and mumbled Sam’s name again against his baby brother’s skin. He kept mumbling it softly and Sam understood Dean needed a moment, so he just hugged him back silently.
While Dean was holding him, Sam tried to look around them to understand where they were, but it was too dark and he didn’t recognize the place, despite the moonlight lighting things up just a little bit. Still, he caught the faint smell of a mix of stuff that had just been burnt and there was a strange taste on his mouth. A delicious taste. He couldn’t help licking his lips.
He looked around, but he still felt confused and dizzy. It was too dark and he didn’t really comprehend everything that was going on, so he kept trying to look around, trying to make out something of whatever was around them or wherever they were. He could barely tell they were on the floor, and he looked down, barely distinguishing some stuff scattered around them and… what was that big lump laying a little away from them? It looked like--…
“Dean… Dean what’s all of this? Where are we? What happened to yellow eyes and-…?” Sam started panicking instinctively and Dean felt it. He finally let go of Sam’s body to lean back and look at him. Dean noticed how Sam’s eyes hadn’t gotten used to the darkness yet and he was confused and disoriented, but he forced Sam’s eyes to acknowledge his gaze.
“No. No.” Dean said, grabbing Sam’s face and forcing him to focus on his face. “Forget about that, let’s forget about all of that. Let’s get out of here and go away, far away from all of that.”
“What? But Dean, what I heard when I was--…”
“No, Sam, not right now, please. Please.” Dean begged, keeping Sam’s eyes locked with his, and there was something on Dean’s pleading voice and the intense gaze Sam finally recognized that convinced him. He didn’t know what had happened but Dean didn’t seem to want to explain it right now, he didn’t seem to be on his best state of mind —Sam wasn’t either, to be honest, — and Sam couldn’t help feeling worried about his big brother’s behavior. He stopped asking, at least for the moment, like Dean was begging. “C’mon, let’s go, we need to get out of here.” He said, getting up and bringing Sam with him. “Hey, no, no, no, look at me. Keep your eyes on me.” Dean said, grabbing Sam’s face again and locking his eyes with Sam’s, making sure his little brother didn’t look anywhere else. Sam hesitated again but he trusted his brother above everything, so he finally nodded. “C’mon, let’s leave. How are you feeling? Can you walk?”
“Y-Yeah, I can… I feel…” Sam mumbled, still confused and a little nervous. “I just feel a little weird, like…”
“Like I took… a very long nap and… I can’t remember anything in between. It’s kind of foggy.”
“Okay, that’s good, anything else? How does your body feel? Can you move normally? Anything feels weird?”
“N-no, Dean, everything’s all right, everything feels fine, I just…” Sam mumbled, taking a moment to stop and actually check himself. Dean waited. Sam felt normal, aside from the grogginess that was slowly going away and some confusing memories from before he had lost consciousness. There was just something… “I just… I’m…” Sam looked at Dean in the eyes. “I’m hungry.”
Dean let out a breathy, short laugh, relieved.
“Yeah, okay. I’m hungry too, you know? Let’s get out of here and we’ll get us something to eat.” He said, finally relaxing enough to smile at Sam, making him feel more reassured. When he said that, it was the moment he actually noticed he was starving. He was also incredibly tired, but they had to get out of that cabin and find some place to rest and eat, so he guided Sam to the car and then went back by himself to get the book and the rest of his stuff without Sam noticing.
It was okay, it was going to be okay. He could convince Sam to run away from whatever had been going on when he had been taken away, they would just simply leave all of that behind. They all thought Sam was dead now, so it shouldn’t be difficult. It was going to be okay. The nightmare was over, Dean’s nightmare was over. He’d waken up from it, Sam was back with him, his baby brother was alive, so everything was okay. Everything was going to be okay. He was going to make sure of it.
They drove away from the cabin and Dean kept avoiding Sam’s silent doubts and confusion until they reached a motel to finally crash. But before that, they needed to eat, so Dean stopped at a diner to ask for some food to take back to the room. He was so tired and hungry he didn’t even give a second thought to the fact Sam asked for meat instead of his usual salads or rabbit food. He was probably very hungry too and Sam also enjoyed burgers from time to time, although it was almost strictly only when Dean made them. Still, he didn’t dwell on it and they immediately devoured their food when they got to their motel room. The moment they finished eating, Dean felt the exhaustion dropping on his body. He knew Sam needed answers and an explanation about what had happened, but God, he was so tired, he just wanted to sleep what he hadn’t slept the last few days now that Sam was back with him and that he would be finally able to.
“Please, Sam, just…” Dean begged from the bed where he had dropped his wrecked body, just seconds away from losing consciousness when Sam asked again what the hell had happened to him. “Tomorrow…” He whispered pleadingly.
Sam, who was seating on the bed next to him, furrowed his brows in that cute, worried expression, and Dean felt warmth on his heart because he thought he wouldn’t be able to see that sweet little face scrunching up like that again. And, even though that wasn’t one of his favorite expressions on Sam’s face, after what he had been through these last days, anything was like the sweetest reassurance that the horrible nightmare was over.
And maybe Sam caught some of what Dean was feeling and thinking while watching him, because he finally relaxed and nodded.
“You look dead, man.” He joked with a weak smile and Dean would have laughed at the irony if he wasn’t so tired, and he actually didn’t find it that funny. “All right then. Tomorrow.”
Dean sighed and forced a smile for Sam. He kept the image of his living baby brother sitting next to him on the bed. Alive. Breathing. With him again. He closed his eyes and in a few seconds he was gone.
He woke up to the sound of Sam’s puking. He got up immediately, startled, with a horrible feeling of dread, of something going wrong tightening on his stomach.
“Sam?!” He asked, immediately going to the bathroom, where his little brother was emptying his stomach. “What’s wrong?” He asked, and started rubbing Sam’s back. Sam was panting, sweating and a few tears were dripping down his face. “What happened?”
“I—I don’t know…” Sam managed to say with difficulty, voice raspy because of his hurt throat. “I don’t… know if the food was bad or… or what I just…” Sam mumbled, trying to wipe his mouth, and Dean grabbed some toilet paper to do it himself. “I just… couldn’t keep it inside me. I needed it out, it felt awful.”
“Okay, all right, maybe it was too heavy for your body right now…” Dean mumbled, wiping Sam’s mouth and face and looking him all over, checking if there was something else going on. Sam was pale, but not nearly as white as he was when… Dean didn’t want to remember. “Maybe meat wasn’t the right option for you right after--…”
“After what? Dean, what are you talking about?”
“I mean, after spending so much time just eating rabbit food, all right? Maybe your stomach can’t take it so easily now, and yesterday you ate like an animal. Figures it wouldn’t sit right with your stomach.”
“Y-You think?” Sam mumbled, the worry leaving his face for a moment. He was always reassured by what his big brother said, he always knew better.
“Yeah.” Dean tried to smile, breathing out a small laugh while combing Sam’s sweaty hair out of his face. “Yeah, it’s okay, just take it easy with the food, all right?”
“O-Okay, yeah…” Sam mumbled, still panting a little but his body was now getting it’s color back. Dean coveted the red on those cheeks so much. However, Sam still frowned, confused and conflicted, and one of his hands went to rub his stomach. “But… Dean?”
“Yeah?” Dean asked, flushing the toilet and getting up to help Sam towards the sink, so he could rinse his mouth.
“I’m… I’m still hungry…” He mumbled, frowning confusedly. “Now more than yesterday…”
Dean frowned too then. That was weird. Usually, when someone puked their guts out it took a while for their stomach to be in the mood for food again.
“Okay, that’s weird. Maybe it’s actually discomfort and your stomach is a little confused?” Dean frowned. “We should wait a little before feeding you something again, all right?”
Sam nodded, still with scrunched up eyebrows, confusion visible on his expression, but he did as his brother was telling him and rinsed his mouth.
Before getting up with terrible nausea, Sam had the feeling he was having nightmares. But he really couldn’t remember them, they were just blurry. Still, the weird, desperate and scared feeling was still on his body. There had been images about eating… probably because he had been really hungry. He sort of remembered a scene where he was holding the burger and taking huge bites from it, and then when he looked at it, it wasn’t a burger anymore, it was something else… something meaty and bloody… and maybe that was when he woke up to run straight to the bathroom to throw up.
He was feeling overall good now that he had taken all the food out of his stomach, there was no discomfort or nausea or anything similar anymore, so he could wait a little for his stomach to settle down and eat. It was indeed pretty weird, but he was very hungry. As if he hadn’t eaten anything in days instead of having eaten a lot just last night, and then proceed to puke it out. He hoped he wasn’t getting sick or something, so he looked at Dean for comfort and his big brother’s reassuring easygoing smile seemed to help a little.
“C’mon, I’m sure it’s nothing, just your baby delicate stomach as usual.” He teased. “Let’s go back to bed, it’s like three in the morning.” Dean mumbled, caressing Sam’s back a little and guiding him back to the bedroom. Before Dean lied down on his bed, Sam grabbed his hand.
“Dean. Are we really gonna just… run away? From everything that’s going on?”
Dean looked at his little brother and noticed that he wasn’t letting the subject go this time, even if it wasn’t morning yet. Probably because so much puking had made him way more worried about everything. And they were both too awake now, so Dean sighed and dragged a hand over his face. He sat down on the bed and Sam sat in front of him.
“Listen Sam…” He started. “I don’t know what’s going on with all that stuff from Yellow Eyes and everything that happened… I just know… I don’t want you--… us to have anything to do with it. And right now? The best I can think about is getting away while we can, while they think you’re--… well, while they don’t know where you are…” Dean said, staring straight into Sam’s confused eyes. His little brother had caught his hesitation over some of his words, he wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t pressing him to speak at the moment. “You were already in enough danger, Sam, if something happened to you, I wouldn’t--… What would’ve I--…” His voice broke a little. Sam’s expression softened immediately. “What I mean is… I had a hard time finding you and it could have been…” Dean’s bottom lip trembled a little. He swallowed hard. “…too late, so--… so for now I just… I just want us to get away from all of this, all right?”
Sam seemed worried and conflicted. Since he had started hunting again with his brother, he had stopped running away from his life, from whatever destiny had prepared for him. And he had a lot of worries about what had happened when he was gone, about what Yellow Eyes had said. But something in Dean’s expression and the way he spoke had made all of that stop mattering. The way Dean seemed so vulnerable, as if he was about to break if Sam didn’t do what he was asking… He didn’t feel like pushing his brother to pursue the disaster that was probably developing. He didn’t have the heart for it.
Besides… he still felt a little weird, like disoriented or hazy, and this strange thing with his appetite had him a little worried. Maybe they could keep a low profile for a while, at least while they figured out what had gotten him sick or whatever, and then maybe Dean would be calm enough to try to go back to do something about the whole situation with Yellow Eyes.
Finally, Sam nodded and Dean deflated with a deep sigh of relief. His big brother looked so tired, exhausted, mostly emotionally, so Sam felt it was the right choice to take a short break.
“Let’s sleep for now and in the morning we’ll see what’s going on with your delicate princess stomach, all right?” Dean teased, a small grin on his face making Sam feel a little more relieved. Sam nodded silently. He was indeed still very hungry, strangely hungry, but he could wait until it was morning. Dean patted his arm softly, telling him he was surely going to get better.
Somehow, it wasn’t getting better. Sam kept repeating the same routine. He would eat like a starving animal, which apparently he was feeling like, and then, a few hours later, he would puke everything out, as if it couldn’t stay inside his body. And he’d still be hungry right after it.
Dean was considering taking him to see a doctor, but Sam wasn’t feeling sick at all, just… hungry. There was no pain or fever or anything of the like, just the constant hunger and the fact that when they tried to sate it, it didn’t seem to work. Just that, and Sam’s weird occasional nightmares that had him groaning and making weird noises, waking Dean up, but those ended when Dean woke Sam up too.
Still, they were really starting to get worried, but since Sam wasn’t in any pain or discomfort and they had decided to keep a low profile for a while, they couldn’t really do anything about it. They couldn’t even ask Bobby, Dean had completely forbid Sam of calling him. He’d said it was safer for all of them, although Sam had gotten a little suspicious at Dean’s intense response, but again he’d chosen not to push it.
The problem was that, although at the beginning the hunger was tolerable, with the passing days and each new rejection of Sam’s stomach for whatever food they tried to give him, it was growing more intense.
Again, in the middle of the night, Sam had woken up to run to the bathroom and empty all the contents of his stomach. As usual, Dean got up too and went towards him to rub his back softly and remove the hair from his face.
“God, Dean, I’m so hungry…” Sam sobbed with watery eyes and pale cheeks, wiping his mouth. He sniffled, looking worriedly into his big brother’s attentive eyes. “What’s going on with me?? Am I sick?? What if something happened to me while I was unconscious??”
“No. No, none of that Sam, you’re okay, I made sure you were okay. It’ll be okay.” Dean said, caressing Sam’s face softly. He swallowed with difficulty, remembering everything that had happened for a moment. He shook the thoughts away and tried to smile again. “We’ll figure out what’s going on, okay? You don’t feel any pain or something like that, right?”
“No, not at all, I’m just so hungry, Dean. And I keep… dreaming of…” Sam sobbed and Dean could see how scared he was. He tried to smile at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He mumbled, grabbing Sam’s face. Sam avoided his eyes, worriedly looking into the distance. “Hey, look at me. Listen. Let’s go to a convenience store and roam the aisles to see if there’s something that you feel like eating and I’ll cook it. When you eat you feel sated for a while, right?”
“For a few hours, yeah.” Sam mumbled. “Until the nausea comes again…”
“All right, let’s try with homemade food, yes? Maybe that’ll help.” Dean smiled. “Let big brother cook something good for you, all right?”
Dean’s cheery voice calmed Sam down enough to nod timidly.
They drove to a convenience store, one of those that was open 24 hours and started walking among the lonely aisles. It was close to 3 am, so it was very lonely but there was a couple of shady looking people outside and inside. They walked through the aisles, trying to see if there was something that called to Sam’s appetite, but he kept making grossed out faces, even when he kept saying he was starving. Thus, they went towards the raw meat section to see if they could get something that Dean could cook.
When they walked closer to it, Sam started sniffing around and his stomach was grumbling. He went immediately towards the aisles where some of the meat was ready on a few trays covered with plastic, but there was also some raw meat, chicken or ham on open containers for people to ask how much they wanted. The guy on the counter was completely asleep, he hadn’t even noticed there was people there, but that was better, they were still checking if there was something Sam might want to eat.
So Dean started checking the meat trays and poking around, noticing Sam seemed interested, he was shaking a little. Then Dean moved one of the containers with the raw meat and some blood dripped from it. That was when Sam snapped.
He grabbed a handful of raw meat and started stuffing his face with it. Dean was shocked and for a second he didn’t react. It was a little surreal, to see his little brother stuffing handfuls of raw meat into his mouth. When he finally reacted, he grabbed Sam’s hands to stop him.
“Sam, what the hell are you doing?” He hissed, trying to not attract attention towards them. Sam didn’t seem to hear him and kept eating, so Dean had to grab his arms to stop him. That was when Sam finally looked his way, startled and confused. His eyes were open huge, big wide pupils, and there was a little bit of raw blood on his face and Dean felt dread sink low on his stomach.
“I’m… I--…” He mumbled, confused and scared. His eyes watered a little. “I don’t know Dean, I’m just… really hungry… I couldn’t wait anymore… I’m sorry Dean, I--...”
“Okay, okay, it’s okay, Sammy, just--… just take it easy, okay?” He tried to laugh but it came out breathy and worried. Sam was still panicked but Dean swallowed and grinned, trying to make it look as if it wasn’t a big Deal. “We gotta pay for it first, remember?” He forced his joking grin. “And then we need to cook this first, all right? It’s all right, Sammy, I’ll do it for you, okay? I’ll take care of this, just… just take it easy…” He reassured Sam with a soft smile, using the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the blood from Sam’s mouth. Sam nodded, panting, shaking a little, apparently making a big effort to stop himself from continuing eating the raw, bloody meat. “C’mon Sammy, let’s take this home.”
Dean bought the meat and they quickly went back to the motel room. He risked a glance towards Sam seating next to him, quiet and shaken. He knew his baby brother was suffering from the intense hunger, but he was mostly still baffled at what had happened at the store. Dean tried not to think about it, though, and hurried to make something to sate Sam’s hunger at least for a while.
When they reached the motel room, he tried to act as if everything was okay, joking about making a good meal for Sammy like in the good old times and how it had been a while, even though his little brother was still silent and evidently startled at whatever had happened to him on the store.
Still, he kept sending glances towards the bags with the raw meat, shaking a little, like he was stopping himself from grabbing them and start eating again.
“Just have a little patience, Sammy, I’ll make it quick.” Dean said, smiling towards him while he was cutting some vegetables and other stuff he was going to add to the food. Sam’s looked at him, scrunched up eyebrows and shaking hands, and his gaze went back towards the raw meat. He bit down on his bottom lip and swallowed, his eyes dark with hunger. “Sam?” Dean called him again, and he was so focused on the way Sam seemed desperate for the raw meat he didn’t notice when his hand slipped, cutting himself with the knife. “Ouch, shit!” He hissed, dropping what he was doing to check his wound.
It was a thin cut, not really deep, but it was quickly starting to drip blood. He cursed, annoyed at how this was going to get in the way of quickly cooking for Sam, but he still turned around to look for something to cover it with and then--… then he caught Sam’s stare.
The hairs on Dean’s body raised and all his instincts screamed for danger, like when he was facing a predator, ready to hunt him down and eat him. Like when he was facing some wild animal or a supernatural creature that wanted to kill him. Sam was completely focused on him now, on the wound on his hand. His mouth was hanging open, big pretty eyes were wide too, a little lost.
“Sam?” He mumbled, but again, his little brother didn’t seem to be listening. Dean swallowed and covered his wound, instinctively trying to get it away from Sam’s view, but when he moved his hand, the blood dripped on the floor.
For the second time on that night, Sam snapped. In a matter of seconds he was right next to Dean and before the big brother could do something to get away or defend himself from whatever Sam wanted to do, Sam grabbed his wounded hand and hungrily brought it to his mouth.
His soft, warm lips locked around it and Dean hissed when he felt him sucking vigorously.
“Ouch, Sam, what the hell?!” He grunted, trying to pull away, but Sam was holding him with too much strength, he didn’t remember Sam being so strong. “Sam?!”
Sam only moaned in response, sucking hungrily over Dean’s wound, lapping at it with his tongue and then latching it over the cut again to try to get more. Dean started struggling to release himself from his little brother’s iron grip and he shivered a little when he heard Sam’s delighted moan, his eyes closed and his face looked as if he was tasting his first good meal in days. Dean was baffled again and that dread that he had been keeping on the back of his mind for the last couple of days came back when he felt Sam trying to gnaw his flesh, chewing softly and tentatively. The feeling of Sam’s teeth pulled him out of his shock and he finally punched his little brother to get him away.
It worked, Sam stumbled on his back, falling on the floor, and Dean pulled away, bringing his wounded hand close to his body. He checked it, noticing how it was red and a little purplish, and Sam’s teeth had left a mark when they had tried to latch onto his flesh to stop from being pulled away by the punch. He had almost ripped a piece of flesh with them.
They were both panting and Dean looked at Sam with big, startled eyes. His little brother looked back with the same scared expression. He was panting and his lips were red from the blood.
There was a moment of silence, only the both of them panting, and then Sam sobbed, his face growing terrified and confused. Dean’s overprotective big brother instincts kicked in and before he could have a breakdown, he immediately dropped next to Sam.
“Hey, hey Sammy, calm down, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He started saying, trying to grab Sam’s face, but his little brother kept pushing away. “Look at me, Sammy. Sam.” He called, trying to look for Sam’s eyes, and he finally grabbed his face, forcing him to look at him. Sam was so scared and confused, none of them knew what the hell had just happened, but Sam’s eyes were wet and watery, so Dean forgot about everything else and smiled at his little brother. “It’s okay.” He repeated. “Nothing happened. We’re all right.”
“I don’t know why I did--… I don’t…” Sam mumbled with trembling voice. “What was I about to-…?”
“Shh, I know, I know Sammy, it’s all right. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay? Everything’s fine.”
“Dean, what’s going on?? Why am I--… Why was I--…??” Sam sobbed, trembling and Dean hushed him.
“We’ll figure it out, okay?” Dean smiled at Sam, tracing his hands softly over his face, combing his hair. “We always do that. It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure you’re okay. Believe me Sam. Do you believe me?”
There was a pause and Sam looked at his eyes. Dean made an effort to keep his smile in place and finally Sam nodded, reminding Dean of when he was a small, sweet, snotty little brat that was crying because he had scraped his knee or some silly stuff and thought he was going to die from it, and Dean would reassure him everything was going to be okay.
He couldn’t help it and he pulled Sam’s huge body towards him to wrap his arms around it, trying to keep it safe, to shelter him from anything that might hurt him, to keep away anything that was making him have that expression. Sam hugged back, desperate for it too. He was scared, he was shaking. And Dean was scared too, but he kept pushing it down to make Sam feel reassured. That was what mattered the most at the moment.
He held Sam on his arms for a long moment until he felt he was breathing softly again. Sam’s body dropped over his, exhausted. It was close to 4 am and they hadn’t really slept a lot, so Dean moved away to check how Sam was and he noticed his baby brother was now sleepy. The last few nights Sam hadn’t been able to relax and sleep properly, the nightmares and the hunger wouldn’t let him, this was the first time he looked relaxed enough.
“Hey, are you still hungry? I can finish what I was making…” Dean mumbled softly. Sam shook his head.
“No, m’just sleepy…” Sam mumbled. “I’m… I’m not that hungry anymore… I’m tired.”
Dean didn’t question it. If Sam was finally feeling a little bit sated, maybe because he was more tired than hungry, enough to be a able to sleep a little, that was something good.
“All right then, let’s take you to bed, sasquatch.” Dean smiled, getting up and pulling Sam with him to take them both to their beds. He dropped Sam on his own bed and covered him with the blankets. “There you go.” He whispered, sighing at Sam’s peaceful sleeping face.
There was still some of Dean’s blood smeared on Sam’s lips, but Dean chose to ignore it. He didn’t want to wipe it so he wouldn’t risk waking Sam up. He turned off the lights so he wouldn’t see it anymore and after disinfecting and covering his wound, he dropped on his own bed, exhausted too.
He woke up a little startled at the sound of Sam puking again, but before he could get up to go to the bathroom, he heard Sam flush the toilet and run the sink, rinsing his mouth. Was he done? Had Dean fallen on a sleep deep enough that he hadn’t heard Sam puking for a while? Or was it because he had eaten too little?
Sam was coming back to the dark room, the sun wasn’t up yet, maybe it was 5 or 6 am. He didn’t sound as tired and agitated as he usually did when he finished puking.
“You spit everything out again?” Dean asked in a hushed voice and Sam was a little startled, but he quickly nodded, sitting on his own bed.
“Just the meat. That’s all I had inside.”
“You must be very hungry again, huh?”
“Actually…” Sam mumbled and Dean noticed the confused frown on his face. “Not this time… I’m… feeling a little sated.”
“Really?” Dean asked, also frowning. “You feeling okay then?”
“Yeah… I mean, I started feeling nauseous as usual, but the moment I puked what little I ate, it stopped. Right now I feel… a little fine…” Sam whispered. Dean sighed deeply.
“Maybe you’re finally getting better.” Dean offered, trying to be optimistic for once. “This has been one weird indigestion, princess.” He half joked, as usual, trying to lighten the mood.
“But…” Sam frowned. “How?”
“I dunno, just naturally? We don’t even know what was going on.” Dean shrugged. He really wanted to believe Sam was getting over it now.
“I’m still a little hungry… just… not as much as before. I feel like… I don’t need to put anything on my mouth for a while now.”
“Okay, all right, that’s good then.” Dean said, sighing again. “We’ll see how you feel later.”
There was a calm pause and then Dean smirked teasingly. Sam frowned.
“You said you’ve been needing to put something in your mouth… I have a few ideas…” Dean snorted and Sam rolled his eyes pointedly at his brother’s absurd joke. But… he smiled back at the sense of comfort it brought him. He pushed Dean’s shoulder.
“Oh my god, Dean, shut up.” He complained, and Dean laughed a little bit more.
“Okay, okay, you big dorky glutton.” He said, so much fondness on his voice. “For now you should sleep. You haven’t been sleeping well these last few days.”
Sam nodded and finally dropped back on his bed. Dean did the same on his own.
There was a long moment of silence and calm breathing. And then Dean heard Sam getting up again. He was about to ask what was wrong now, but then he felt Sam’s weight on his bed. Before he could ask anything, Sam quickly got inside his covers and pressed his huge, warm body against him.
That night, right before waking up to puke, Sam had dreamt of eating again, but this time the taste was sating and delicious, and he kept licking his lips to gather the juice of the meat he was chewing from where it was smeared around his mouth and swallowing it. It tasted so good. It hadn’t been a nightmare this time, it had been a good dream. At least it was until Sam noticed that what he had been chewing and pulling bites from was his big brother’s hand. That was when he woke up, ready to puke again. This time the scenes were a little less blurry so Sam was still worked up. That’s why he couldn’t stop himself from getting into his big brother’s bed.
When he felt Sam’s body next to his, Dean noticed he was trembling a little and he remembered Sam’s scared and confused face. He also remembered his pale, white, dead skin and his cold body over the dirty mattress on that abandoned cabin. He remembered how it felt to lay next to that.
He held back any complaining or questioning words that had been about to come out of his mouth. Instead, he moved a bit, giving more space to Sam’s huge body.
“You’re such a baby.” He whispered and noticed how Sam’s body immediately relaxed with a soft sigh.
After having felt Sam’s cold, limp body, having pressed against him or just watched him dropped like a lifeless thing on the dirty mattress, this was definitely bliss. No matter what happened, Dean was going to take it willingly if it meant he could have Sam’s warmth and softness pressed against him like this.
The rest of the night went on peacefully.
They finally got some proper sleep. At last, after days. It felt so good. Waking up over the sunrays coming inside through the window instead of over Sam’s puking or Sam’s weird nightmares or Sam’s desperate hungry noises was the best feeling ever. On top of that, there was the comfortable feeling of a warm, soft body right there on the bed, providing relief and company. The weight of a brunette head over Dean’s chest and the sound of peaceful breathing. It felt familiar and comforting. They had nowhere to be, they weren’t solving cases for the moment, there was no reason for them to get up and out of the warm cocoon of the bed. Sam wasn’t suffering or struggling with hunger at last, he was getting the rest he needed and Dean too. It was good. After so much, there was finally something completely good. So they stayed in bed until noon, when it got a little bit too warm to stay tangled on each other, covered with the sheets.
When they finally got up, they didn’t say anything. They carried on with their day as usual, Dean going out to get some food only for himself, and Sam taking some rest, since he finally didn’t feel like his hunger would eat him alive. They didn’t speak about having shared a bed like when they were kids. It had been quite a long while since the last time they did it.
It had felt so good.
It had been so good that the next night, when the lights were out and Sam sneaked into Dean’s bed again, Dean let him. And the next night too.
And it happened again and again until it became so natural that now Sam didn’t wait too long after the lights were out before going straight to Dean’s bed, and Dean didn’t fake annoyance or hesitation. He immediately made space for Sam and pressed himself around him. It wasn’t awkward anymore, just… natural. He always knew Sam liked to be the little spoon, since he was a kid, so he easily wrapped himself around him when Sam turned his back to him, and Dean held him close from the back, despite Sam huge, overgrown body. It was cute in a way, how Sam still liked to be guarded by his big brother’s body, even though he now was bigger and maybe even stronger than him. And Dean liked it too.
To be able to sink his face on Sam’s brunette locks and breathe in his scent; to feel his warmth against his chest and to feel his pulse. To listen to Sam’s heart that said alive with each thump. It made him feel so relieved, so glad that he had done whatever he had to do to have this back, to be able to hold Sam on his arms like this again.
They hadn’t been physically close in a long time. Physical comfort wasn’t something they were used to get, but when they were kids they had been each other’s comfort for a long time until they grew out of it. Because they were men. Because they were brothers and it was inappropriate. But now that they had it back, that they were feeling again how good it was to have a warm, soft, familiar body pressed against them, to feel each other’s calm breathing while sleeping, to be completely sure they were safe with them. That they both were safe. It was the nicest thing they had in a long, long while. So it became easy and reassuring. Going to sleep was one of the things they both started enjoying most, as well as waking up together.
Maybe because the sleeping together had been so easy, the next thing was as easy too. It just happened.
It was a night like any other, only that it was raining hard and loud, thunders roaring through the sky and Dean knew Sam would quickly get on his bed because the weather had gotten really cold.
As expected, once he was ready to sleep, Sam got under the covers and pressed against him, and Dean lifted an arm so Sam could rest his head over it, like he knew his baby brother liked. When he wasn’t in the mood to be the little spoon, Sam liked to rest his head over Dean’s chest or arm, so he accommodated there, but instead of going straight to sleep, as usual, he lifted his head to look at Dean’s face.
Since they were facing each other, Dean stared straight back, a little puzzled at Sam’s gaze, but he didn’t say anything, since Sam wasn’t talking either and the sound of rain, despite being a little loud, it was soothing and comfortable on the background. Dean waited, maybe Sam would finally open his mouth and speak or ask something, like he usually did. But minutes went by and he kept looking at him, silently, until…
Sam leaned close, tentatively bumping his nose with Dean’s, and although Dean felt his heart rate increasing immediately, he didn’t move or jerk away. When Sam’s breath brushed his mouth, he felt relaxed and his eyelids dropped a little. Seeing his reaction, Sam leaned closer and cutely brushed his nose over Dean’s, his eyes closing a little too. He brought his mouth closer, half-open, brushing it over Dean’s cheeks and face, letting him feel the sweet softness of his lips and the warmth of his breathing. He sweetly rubbed his face against Dean, like some cute animal looking for affection, and Dean closed his eyes, letting him, rubbing back too. He pressed their foreheads together for a moment, and then he brushed Dean’s face with his open lips again, dragging them slowly over his skin, on his cheeks, below his eyes, over his chin, right next to his mouth, and Dean breathed in the feeling, his heart pumping louder than the rain on his ears, his face also leaning into the sweet caresses.
A sweet heat pooled on his stomach, making him feel tingles and a throbbing that matched the rhythm of his increasing heart rate. They sweetly rubbed their faces together for a little longer, enjoying the comfort it brought, panting just a little louder. Dean’s arm around Sam’s body brought him closer and Sam slowly pressed one of his legs between Dean’s. Dean sighed and leaned into the feeling.
And that was when Sam opened his eyes to look at Dean for a second before tilting his head and leaning up into his big brother’s face to press his lips sweetly against Dean’s. It was a warm, soft pressure, a honeyed, innocent caress, and Dean let out a sigh into it. He kissed back, pushing his face into Sam’s, his mouth into his baby brother’s. Warm, soft lips sweetly rubbing together, wet and so, so satisfying.
Sam leaned back just a breath of space and Dean saw his eyelashes fluttering, felt them so close to his own. Sam was blushing; even thought he couldn’t really see it in the dark room, he could feel in the warmth of his face, sense it on the way Sam had dropped his head down like he wanted to hide behind his fringe, shy and cute. Dean felt his heart might burst of fondness.
He dove down and looked for Sam’s face to kiss him again. Sam leaned into him immediately, sighing as if he was expecting Dean to reject him the moment before, but he was now so relieved he stopped holding back.
They kissed long and deep, wet and sweet. They pressed closer, enjoying the pleasant feeling of their bodies wrapping around each other, even the little discomfort of Dean’s amulet smothered between their chests, sinking a little on their flesh. It all felt so good and natural, they knew each other so well, they were the only two people that knew each other so intimately, it was as if they had been waiting too long to do something like this. And for Dean, knowing that there had been a chance that he could have never experienced something like this because Sam would be forever gone… it made him feel high, light headed and dizzy.
So Dean couldn’t help getting drunk on the feeling of his sweet, soft, warm baby brother, so very much alive. He also had been having a few nightmares the last few days; memories of the time Sam had gone away. He didn’t think he’d ever get over the sight of Sam’s dead body, the feeling of his cold skin and his limp weight. So, this… being able to feel him moving softly against him, breathing, panting, vibrating against him… it was wonderful, Dean felt it was going to become an addiction for him.
Sam’s mouth was soft and sugar sweet, and with each stroke of his tongue Dean felt the heat pooling on his groin and between his legs burning harder. Unable to help it, he pressed his hardened dick against the leg Sam had shoved between his own, thrusting into it, and Sam immediately started rubbing him with his leg to help him, making him groan low, delighted. Sam also pressed his hips against his big brother, letting him feel how he was also hard, so Dean shifted them, separating Sam’s legs and making it so that their hard dicks were pressing together. He could feel the shape of Sam’s hard dick against his own, he could tell how intimate everything was and it felt really, really good.
They started rocking softly together, still kissing, and Sam started making such sweet noises Dean felt overwhelmed with adoration for his cute little brother. Dean sucked on Sam’s tongue and lips, trying to drink the noises, to drown in them while he rolled his hips against Sam’s, increasing the exquisite feeling of their groins rubbing together, the delicious throbbing, and the waves of pleasure running all over their bodies.
They held onto each other tight to get more leverage, to move better and harder, panting, moaning, Dean’s hands holding Sam’s face against his and Sam’s hands fisting Dean’s t-shirt on his back; limbs tangled desperately, legs and ankles holding onto what they could, and the movements grew frantic and hotter, and Sam was panting louder, whining with that sweet soft voice. Dean kissed him deep to eat the sounds and Sam kissed back, hungry too, both of them letting themselves sink on the overwhelmingly good feelings blinding them, shaking them, burning until it was too much and they let it happen, good and easy, creaming the inside of their clothes with sticky, wet warmth.
When their panting decreased, the sounds of the rain were audible again on the background, a few thunders grumbling on the sky. Sam’s head dropped over Dean’s shoulder, panting, eyes closed and warm cheeks, wet and rosy. Dean combed Sam’s wet fringe back, behind his ears and traced his fingers on the rest of his hair, lovingly.
They didn’t say anything, of course. They didn’t try to move either, even though they knew their clothes would be a mess if they just let them like that until morning, but they didn’t feel like moving at the moment. They felt warm and cozy and happy. Content. At last. So they just… sighed and closed their eyes and went to sleep. And Dean thought, again, that the nightmare was completely over.
There were no weird, hungry nightmares for Sam, nor dark, cold lonely ones for Dean that night.