Disclaimer: I own nothing, all characters belong to Supernatural.

Please, enjoy.

A short story.

A/N I have no idea, but here is an author's note; that last bit of text was an author's not, and this.

God Knows Why, A Short Story.

They had to know something useful that he and Dean didn't about the darkness, about God, about anything; that much he was certain about. He had decided this after discovering that Dean and his lives weren't entirely secret. In fact, they were so unsecret that high school students were producing theatre performances about their lives. In detail. Performances that high schooler's had based on Chuck's books. Books that had an equal amount of detail on their lives.

Now, Sam knew books; having read more of them than most, which meant he had picked up on a few things. One of these things was that readers always knew more than the characters; to create suspense or dilemma, authors would let the readers in on little facts that characters were oblivious too. Then the author would put that fact smack bang in front of the characters face, and just out of reach and the characters- who will remain oblivious whether it be doom, a principal object, or even love. It drove readers mad.

It was because of this expositional information that he had turned to fanfiction. God knew why, or at least he hoped he did. He had also hoped he would come across an answer to the 'who is God' question. But that was before he had been distracted by another question.

Were his brother and Cas really as in love with each other as the fans suggested?

And so, he read Destiel fanfictions.

After he had read a few short fanfictions, avoided a few more, he quickly decided that the fans were right on a few things. The intense staring (mostly on Castiel's part), the way Dean behaved around Cas, and so on. He quickly realised there were a few exaggerations about Dean. He had never talked to Cas in such emotional ways as the fanfics suggested, or had he?

Could he?

But there was one thing that made his eyes bulge out of their sockets, one thing that made him laugh for so many reasons he wasn't sure what the main one was: his brother cuddling Cas.

Cuddling.

He tried to imagine his brother doing such a thing and found …he could?

Curiously, he typed in a few keywords into the search bar: Cas, Dean, Cuddling. His eyes widened. There were hundreds; hundreds of situations and stories where his brother cuddled Cas. But why?

God knows, he decided again.

He began to read the descriptions on some of the fics; Dean has a nightmare and... Cas is human and can't sleep… Cas misses his wings… Sam dies and Dean… (he raised his eyebrows at that one.) Dean decides to watch a movie with Cas…

He looked at the time; it read: 5:30 PM. He had time for one.

He read all of them.

God knows why.

To his surprise, he realised that some of them were quite believable. If his brother and Cas's relationship had developed like it did in the fanfic's, that is.

However, there was a new thing caught him by surprise, it seemed to occur in basically every fanfic he had read, and he had read quite a few now. The thing was him. In every single story he had read, the ending always involved him walking in on his stupid brother cuddling up to Cas as if he was some plot device used to endorse humour.

He was outraged.

Why couldn't he be the one cuddling someone? Why did he always have to be the one who was the plot device? What was worse, was that if he wasn't walking in on his brother's snuggle fest, he was dead and the reason his brother and Cas cuddled. The reason.

He wanted to cuddle someone, dammit!

Angrily, he typed in two new words into the search bar: Sam, cuddle. He clicked enter. He read. His mouth fell open. There were a few that featured him and Dean cuddling for various reason, a few more with Cas, but the majority seemed to feature him ...and Gabriel? Sabriel?

Suddenly, with all the strength in his strange moose like body, he slammed the laptop closed and stormed out of his room to complain, not even caring about the time.

Earlier

Chuck sighed, desperately trying to stop a headache that throbbed violently inside his head. This time, however, it had not been caused by a vision but rather the content of one. Sam was an idiot.

But he knew why.

Meanwhile

Sam purposefully opened the wooden door in front of him, "So get this-"

He stared. In front of him was Dean, laying in bed with a small smile on his lips, his arms gently wrapped around a very much cuddled Cas.

The End.