Reality is More Than a Dream

Disclaimer: I own nothing. But Lord don't I wish I owned Dean. I should be working on my DA prompts, but Supernatural has just been firing stories up in my brain. Joyous Occasion!

"Oh baby, I missed you." Dean moaned and bit his lip. "Did you miss me? Course you did, nobody treats you the way I do."

Sam was really, really, really glad to have Dean back. It was a miracle he thought was never going to happen. And nothing was going to change the feeling of Joy that came with it. But…

"Has Sammy been taking good care of you?"

The sight of his older brother pressed against the side of the Impala, cooing and stroking the surfaces like it was some revered goddess; brought forth conflicting emotions. One, it brought a small smile to his face, to see Dean so ecstatically happy. Two, it was just really frigg'n disturbing, this intense love for the car. But Sam was only too happy to put up with Dean's version of selfless love.

Dean's coos became quieter and Sam leaned against the railing on Bobby's porch, sipping a beer and watching his brother inspect the car from top to bottom. Running his hands slowly over every inch of the sleek surface. He really did love that damn car. Sam had to admit he'd grown even more fond of it himself over the last few months, but reasoned it had more to do with it's connection to his family, more so than a love of muscle cars developing.

Dean's head popped up over the driver's side, peering across the hood, squinting his eyes at Sam.

"What're you grinning about? Aren't you gonna tell us to get a room or something?" Us? Jeez. Sam shook his head ruefully.

"Yeah, well I figured that was a given. Careful that you don't ruin the paint with your drool." Sam's face broke out in a grin when he saw Dean scowl at him. "Besides, you didn't get a chance to do a thorough inspection earlier, and I know you'll want to interrogate me on the patient's condition. Then I'll leave you two alone." Dean harrumphed at him.

"Damn right. You been waxing her regularly?" Dean glared fiercely at Sam who started coughing loudly around the swig of beer he'd just downed.

"Yeah." Sam laughed and wiped his face dry with the back of his hand. "Regularly, just like you told me to."

"Humph." Dean was sounding just like a disbelieving little old lady. He grunted again, then squatted down and began checking the underside of the body. "Looks okay."

"Okay?" Sam asked with disbelief evident in his voice.

"What kind of oil were you using?" Dean had lowered down to his haunches to check for any sign of an oil leak.

"Um, Oil?" Sam teased. Sure enough Dean shot to his feet so fast he came up off the ground.

"Sam you did change her oil right? You've had her for months, driven how many thousands of miles if you've-"

"Relax Dean," Sam said holding his hands out to stop Dean from charging around the car towards him. "Of course I changed the oil. Just like you showed me. I was teasing, I swear. I used the kind you told me too." He stepped off the porch down to the lower step.

"You only left written instructions, a schedule and completed it with a color coded grid. Sheez. And you say I'm the girl." As Sam teased he felt the smile slip on his face a little. It brought back a painful memory…

Sam looked away from Dean for a moment, staring off into the junkyard. Dean hadn't left behind written instructions or a grid for Sam on how to go on without Dean. When he'd been falling into that black pit of darkness before Ruby came along taking care of Dean's car was the only thing that slowed the slide.

Sam took a deep breath and shook himself a little. It didn't matter anymore, Dean was back. He glanced back over at his brother and was amused to find that Dean had settled his ruffled feathers and was popping the hood open.

"Oh. Well. Good then." Dean cleared his throat and buried his head in the engine.

Sam walked over to the cooler and grabbed two beers and slowly ambled over to the car and handed one to Dean.

"Thanks." Dean grunted and twisted off the cap, slugging a drink. He smacked his lips in a satisfactory way and put the bottle down on the ground, off to the side, condensation already collecting on the sides. Dean rolled up his sleeves and ducked back under the hood.

Sam stood there next to him, blinking up at the sky, breathing slowly and just wondering. About Dean, God, Angels and Demons. Trying to keep the old nightmare at bay. Willing it all to be real.

"Sam?" Jerked back to the present Sam noticed Dean staring at him curiously, carefully wiping his hands on a rag. He must've been standing there awhile. "You gonna be my personal umbrella? Or do you wanna help?" Sam gave Dean a sheepish look and shook his head negative.

"Nah, not this time. I'll let you two get reacquainted." Sam squinted at Dean and asked "So Dr. Dean, how's she look?"

Dean's face got very serious and he tucked the rag into the back pocket of his jeans. He crossed his arms across his chest and leveled the Winchester stare right at Sam.

"Not bad. Pretty good actually. There's a few wires and such that could use some tightening up, but all and all I'd say you did a decent job Sammy."

"We, uh, didn't get to wires and fuses and stuff. Bobby tried to show me a little at first, but then…" Sam trailed off, and Dean cleared his throat again.

"Yeah, well we'll get it all squared away and I won't hold it against you or Bobby this time." Dean ignored Sam's snort. "Besides, I got more time to teach you now, right? As long as you don't play that crappy music in my baby anymore-" Sam cut Dean off mid-sentence by crushing him in a bear hug.

"Um, Sam?" Dean asked tentatively, a little worry creeping into his voice. Sam just held on tighter, not letting go, not letting up. He started trembling, shivers running through his whole frame. "Sammy, are you okay?" Worry was now very evident in Dean's voice and he squeezed Sam back.

"What's going on dude, cause this bro-hug's been going on for a little while and I bet Bobby's going to join that weird group of people who think we're a couple…" Dean babbled on, and Sam snorted out a little laugh, though it was choked with tears.

Sam loosened his hold, dropping his arms, but couldn't bring himself to raise his head and meet Dean's eyes or step out of his personal space. Not yet.

"Sammy?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry. But it's just sometimes I think…"

"Think what?" Dean prodded, voice gentle.

"That sometimes it's all just some amazing dream and I'll wake up and you'll be gone again. I had a few dreams like that when, when you were gone. Everything was perfect, but it wasn't real. Wasn't you." Once Sam started his confession he couldn't stop, it just keep pouring out of him, releasing some inner pressure he didn't even know was there.

"But I know it's real now."

"How?" Dean asked and Sam could hear choked emotion clouding his voice.

"Because everything was perfect in the dream, but the Impala's not perfect, just good, and you told me so, but you said we had time to fix it. You never said anything like that before, and-" This time Sam was cut off by Dean clamping him in another hug just as fierce as Sam's.

Sam buried his head in Dean's shoulder, just like he used to do when he was a kid and Dean would comfort him after a scary dream. His heartbeat was steady, and Sam could hear it thumping through Dean's veins.

"I'm here, Sam. I'm real. I swear, I'm real. It's not a dream." Dean's hand clasped the back of his neck and squeezed for a moment, then let go.

They both stepped back a little quickly and composed themselves. Sam swiped at his wet eyes and Dean noisily cleared his throat. When Sam looked back at him, his eyes were dry, but red.

"Enough of this girly, emo shit you love so much. Hand me that flat head screwdriver over there." Dean pointed at the open toolbox a couple of feet away. Sam smiled impishly.

"What's a Flathead screwdriver Dean?" Sam asked innocently then took off running when Dean reached for him in mock frustration.

They dodged each other, and ran around the Impala until Dean tackled him and put him in an ironclad headlock.

"What's a Flathead screwdriver Dean?" Dean mocked Sam in a high-pitched girly voice. "I'll show you a Flathead." he growled. Dean then proceeded to give Sam a vigorous noogie that had Sam protesting and struggling to get free.

"Dean! Stop it! Leggo! You're such a frigg'n jerk!" Sam whined. Dean just rubbed his knuckles in harder. Sam let out a stream of curses and started jabbing his elbows back at Dean rather viciously.

"What in the name of all that is holy is going on out here?" Bobby appeared on the porch, glaring from beneath his ever-present tattered trucker hat. "Knock that shit out, and would one of you get your asses in here and help me with dinner!"

Dean dropped Sam in the dirt and stood up dusting off his pants.

"Guess that's Samantha here. My favorite little sister."

"Hey!" Sam gasped as he got to his feet. "I'm not the one who can cook and took Home Ec-owch!" Sam took off again ducking another swat from Dean. When Dean picked up a wrench Sam lit for the porch fast as he could, chuckling all the way.

"Fine! I'm going, I'm going! Jeez." Sam thundered past Bobby, but swung back in the doorway and threw out "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean replied and tossed the wrench down, a smile on his face.

"Idgits." Bobby muttered, but he too, was smiling.

End.

AN: So wow! My first Supernatural fic in over a year! Feels good. Reviews as always are welcome.