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Breakfast for Champions

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"What the hell happened to the coffee? " Sam spluttered, coughing loudly as he desperately tried to spit out every drop of coffee from his mouth. A rather hopeless attempt as quite a large amount had already made it down his throat.

"What? " was Dean's absent-minded and rather irritated response.
Great. This was just fabulous. Wonderful start in the day. He quickly made his way over to the sink and filled a glass of water, downing it in one go.

"You tried to poison me", he muttered staring darkly at his brother's back. He closed his eyes, whatever might be the matter with Dean, this was most definitely too early to deal with it.

God, he wished he could go back to bed. His throat felt sore and a headache loomed in the distance. On top of that his nose was stuffy. And itchy, too. He just wanted tea, no coffee thanks, maybe some medicine and to be left alone in his room. He would lie in bed, smothered in blankets and enjoy his netflix account. Catch up to Orange is the new Black, because it was kind of depressing to realise that Cas was further along than him, or perhaps finally watch Marco Polo.

Alas, it was not to be, they had a rather long drive ahead of them for that nasty ghost case in Missouri.

A loud bang brought him back from his musings. Dean had placed a plate of bacon on the kitchen table, with rather more force than was usual. He eyed the soggy mess critically and with no little amount of distaste. Well, bacon was putting it rather generously.

"What exactly is that? " he asked cautiously.

"Breakfast", Dean replied angrily stirring some eggs in the pan.

"Right." Obviously.
With another noisy clatter a plate of burned, burned! , eggs joined the masterpieces of bacon. He did not want to think about the coffee.

At least it was consistently messed up?

"Dean, what are you doing?" He sighed and tried to catch his brother's eye. Because whatever was on his brother's mind, it had managed to addle him severely. And was obviously weighing on him. He stared mournfully at the bacon.
Such a shame, Dean was usually such a good cook and his dishes could be a real treat.

"Cooking." And yeah, how about no? This was food torture.

"Would you sit down, Dean? Your fidgeting is aggravating", he said, rubbing at his temple. A rather fruitless endeavour, as he could already feel the first stabs of the incoming headache. Dean glared at him, but still dragged a stool over and plopped gracelessly into it.
Sam had no desire to talk right now. But if they didn't talk it out, who knew when Dean was ready to talk again. His brother had the irritating habit of shutting off rather quickly. The morning was wasted anyway.

"So", Sam began listlessly, wishing desperately for a bagle and nice coffee, "do you want to tal-"

Abruptly Dean interrupted him and let out a swell of words.
"He didn't like it, okay?! And I noticed. And then he was all 'I'm so sorry, Dean. Please forgive me. But did I mention I'm asexual. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Blah blah blah.' And I didn't even know what it was! "

Woah, way to dump this on him.
"Uh, it means-", he started to explain, but was once more suddenly cut off.

"I know what it is, I googled, alright?" Dean snapped.
"Woah, really? "asked Sam in surprise. Which may have, admittedly, been a little tactless.

"Yes", Dean answered tersely. Then his eyes narrowed and a look of disappointment mixed with betrayal flickered over his features. "You knew. "

Oh. Crap.
Sam hesitated for a short moment, then pushed on. "Well... yes", he admitted.

And yes, Dean looked absolutely pissed.
"The one thing, Sam! The one thing we agreed on was no more lies or secrets! And, what, you both decided that, oh, it did not matter?!"

"No, it wasn't that easy, okay? And I couldn't have told you, it wasn't my secret to tell. "

"Yeah. Like that worked out so well. "

"Dean, please", was Sam's only response and Dean slumped down in defeat.

His head bowed down, face hidden in his hands, he was the picture of miserableness.
"I don't even know what to do anymore", he mumbled.

And yeah, Sam got it. Really, he did. He remembered his own reaction, months ago, to Cas' hesitant revelation. He didn't know what to say then, and not surprisingly, he didn't know what to say now either.

He only knew that, well, this wasn't the end of the world. They'd dealt with the apocalypse, destroyed monsters most people couldn't even dream up. And the darkness was coming, some indefinable, pre-biblical thing they had no idea how to even fight much less defeat.

What his brother needed now was support. So he went over to Dean's slumped figure and let a hand lightly rest on his shoulder. He waited until Dean looked up at him and he was sure he held his attention.
"What you should do, Dean, is go and talk to Cas. I know you can fix this, alright? Together. But you have to talk ."
He squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. Holding contact for a while till letting go.

"Sammy, I-", Dean started. And Sam knew his brother, so he knew exactly when he was about to spew some absolute bullshit. No way was he listening to this.

"You love him, Dean. I know you do", Sam said, his voice insistent and hard.

Drawn-out silence filled the kitchen.

He was rewarded with a slight, almost indiscernible nod. And Sam couldn't wait to tease his brother, when this shitstorm had blown over.

"Then go ." So help him, he would drag Dean over to Cas if he had to. It would be unpleasant, because his brother was stubborn and heavy, but he would do it.

And Dean went. He paused in the doorway, apparently gathering his thoughts. Then he turned back to Sam.
"Thanks, Sammy."

A warm weight stirred in his chest and he had trouble swallowing.
Damn that cold. Just kidding.
"No problem. That's what little brothers are for", Sam replied with a slight grin.

Dean snorted."Sure thing, short stack."

Sam's grin widened. "Go get him, tiger! "

He could hear Dean's quiet chuckle as he closed the kitchen door and that, at last, told him that everything was going to be alright.