One-Shot

AN Enjoy! :)

I place the heels of my hands against my eyes, pressing down and willing the lump in my throat down, my tears back from the edge of falling, and my hands to stop shaking.

It takes longer than I would like, but when I look in the mirror, my face is blank, my hands aren't shaking and I look calm.

I exit the bathroom then, making my way back to my car and then to the FBI building down the street from it.

I'm surprised to realise that Spencer put me on an approved list to get into the building, but relieved that I won't have to figure out my own way in.

I'm told where I need to go and given a visitors sticker, which I stick onto my pant leg before I set off into the building.

I ignore the few people in the elevator with me, including the guy who tries to strike up a conversation with me, I'm not in the mood to hold a pleasant conversation with a stranger less than 30 hours after I watched my baby brother fall into hell.

So it's a surprise when we exit the elevator together and begin walking in the same direction.

"Where are you headed man? Looks like we're going the same way" he says with a smile, undeterred by my lack of one.

"BAU, i've got an old friend to break some news to" I concede, forcing a smile onto my face as we walk.

"Really? I'm actually a part of the BAU team here, who are you here to see?" He asks, keeping the conversation moving, whereas I would like to let it die.

"Spencer Reid" I tell him sharply, hoping he gets the hint.

"Hey man, I get it. Bad day, I just thought a little friendly conversation might cheer a guy up, since we're going the same way" he says. I believe him. Which is why I tell him the truth.

"You know, usually it would. My life's been a little more fucked than "friendly conversation" can fix lately. No offense." I tell him, my voice coming out more snappish than I had intended. At least it makes him stop trying to talk to me though.

"You're the kid" he states a moment later, making me draw in a frustrated breath. Not even telling him that talking to him isn't helping is making this guy give up.

"What kid?" I ask when he doesn't continue.

"You're one of the kids in the picture on his desk. It's uh, it's him and these two other teenagers, at the park I think. I finally decided to ask him about it a few weeks ago, told me that they were his best friends, but that he hadn't seen one of them in a few years, and the other one he still usually sees for the holidays." the man says.

"Yeah. I'm the one he hasn't seen in a few years. The other kid in the picture was my baby brother. He died yesterday. I'm here to tell Spencer that his best friend is dead." I tell him, making the smile slide off of his face.

"Shit man, I'm sorry" the guy says, frowning.

"Not your fault." I tell him. It's mine.

I simply nod at the guy before I continue on my way to where Spencer should be.

A few turns later and I find myself in a pretty open space, desks littering the floor.

It doesn't take me long to locate Spencer, and he sees me around the same time that I see him.

"Dean?" He asks, obviously surprised.

"Hey kid" I greet, forcing a smile onto my face as I walk over to him, hesitating slightly before I pull him into a quick hug.

"What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since...uh….. Since our argument." He says, seemingly not knowing what word to use for the blowout fight we had when he realised that I had asked Sam to leave Stanford to help me find our dad.

He had never been too fond of my father, although, neither was I.

He was my dad though. And I needed, wanted, Sam's help to find him, Spencer was mad because he had spent so long listening to Sam talk about wanting out of the life.

He helped him apply to colleges, and he was the one to help him through our dad telling him that if he walked out the door, that he wasn't welcome back in it.

I was trying to hold my family together. Spencer was trying to hold Sam together.

"That's a good word for it. Argument." I say, huffing out a short laugh.

His face twists.

"I'm not mocking you Spence. I'm the one who beat the shit out of the kids that did that" I say, feeling like in have to remind him of that.

Like it's been so long since we've talked, that I have to remind him of who I am, of who he is to me.

"I remember... Do you remember Jimmy Gatter? He was 4 years older than you" he says, a slight smile making its way onto his face.

"Yeah, I still beat the shit out of him" I say, grinning at him.

"And got four stitches on your cheek, almost broke your hand, and had two cracked ribs." He says, laughing at my retelling of the event.

"It was worth it. Although a heads up on how fucking big that guy was woulda been helpful" I tell him teasingly, not realising how easy it would be to fall into old patterns.

"I didn't realise you were going to pick a fight with him! not until Sam told me that I shouldn't tell you about anyone that was messing with me, unless I wanted you to go pick a fight with them." He says, smiling back at me, but the mention of Sam drags me straight back to reality.

Not the past, where I had two reckless little brothers to protect.

My face falls, immediately tipping Spencer off that something is wrong.

"What's wrong Dean?" He asks, concern thick in his voice.

"Is there somewhere more private we can go talk?" I ask, purposefully casting my eyes around at the surrounding desks, which hold what I'm guessing to be his team, all of whom are eavesdropping.

"Yeah, um, it's a pretty slow day, mostly paperwork" he says with a strained smile, quickly guiding me out of the open style room and through a maze of hallways before I find myself in what looks to be a break room.

I move to the couch and sit down, opening my mouth and then snapping it shut as I realise that I have no idea how to tell him this.

"Did Sam tell you about what we've been up to recently?" I ask instead, deciding that knowing what he knows will make this go smoother.

"The Apocalypse. He said it was big, that neither of you wanted me anywhere near it" he says, his hands fidgeting nervously around what I know to be a seriously sweetened cup of coffee.

"Yeah. It was, big I mean. And I didn't want you anywhere near it, I didn't want Sam near it. Fuck, I never wanted Sam near this shit. I just missed him." I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose as waves of guilt and grief wash over me, a ball of something, settling down onto my chest like a lead weight.

"Dean. What happened?" Spencer questions, the scared sort of curiosity in his voice making my chest constrict.

I wish I never had to tell him this.

I wish I could just walk away like Sam did after I went to hell.

Don't say a thing.

The difference is, me and Spencer had a huge fight and didn't talk for years.

Sam and Spencer talk on the phone all the time, and they try to see each other at least a few times a year.

I have to tell him, and it's that knowledge that's killing me.

"I know he told you the basics of the apocalypse. What our roles were supposed to be. It turns out that our absolute last option, his idea by the way, was for him to say yes to Lucifer, open a gate to the cage with the rings of the four horsemen, and take control long enough to throw Lucifer, who was residing inside of him, into the cage. Sammy saved the world, kid." I say, knowing from the tears silently rolling down his face that he understands what I'm saying.

My slightly upbeat and sarcastic retelling of the story doing nothing to suppress the tears welling in my eyes, or the urge to curl into a ball and sleep until I die.

"Dean" he whispers, turning his head to look at me through teary eyes and a grief so strong my own tears begin rolling wet paths down my cheeks.

"I am so sorry Spence" I murmur, pulling him into my side and resting my head on top of his as he curls further into my side, making me turn in to hug him fully.

AN Thoughts? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know what you think. :)