OUR LEGACY

Part 1.

Our mark. Dean says with the purple bruise blooming over the side of his face, his ever expressive eyes glistening in the lights. And Sam tilts his head to the side and smiles at him as he does the same. The eternal mark of their names together...on their hearts, on the impala...now in their home.

And the look of purely relaxed happiness softening Dean's eyes and the lines of his face nearly dazzle Sam. The lamp light shadowing his features and softening them, the contented smile in his face, turns to something more as he glances to Sam. Little brother, partner, friend...everything. Adoration, worship. And Sam is so humbled by it.

God, Dean's beautiful.

And he doesn't mean it weird, doesn't even mean physically, he just can't help noticing what relaxed and happy does for his older brother but it's what is escaping from his soul and shining out through his eyes that hits Sam like a punch in the stomach.

Dean comes home from a hunt where he sacrificed his life and safety to save other people's lives, other people's lives that had been much worse, and much much more meaningless than Dean's. He puts their lives before his without a second thought...and he thinks they deserve long life better than him.

As he hands Sam a beer, he wonders nonchalantly if anyone will remember them, what they do...will anyone remember that we gave our lives for them, Sammy? And when Sam answers honestly, no, he doesn't bat an eye, it doesn't bother him. He looks around the bunker and looks peacefully happy and sad at the same time.

He wonders what will happen to the bunker...and Sam knows him. He's not sad about the world forgetting them, or about the people they saved forgetting them...he's sad thinking of the possibilities that the bunker might forget them. That they'd disappear from its walls without a trace and that no one would know...no one would know that it was a home. Their home.

That it meant something to someone. That Dean had done the impossible there, that he'd had what he thought he'd never have, done what he'd never thought he'd do...made a home. He'd given Sammy a home...a home he loved, a home he wanted.

And all those little moments, the pillow fights, the dirty socks arguments, the drinking contests, the blood stains in the bathroom, the Christmas decorations pushed into storage (a denial that Sam and Dean had used them at all) and the nameless photographs that strangers wouldn't recognize. The pictures that Sam had spread before Dean when he'd lost all hope and purpose and called him back...all those little moments meant something...some of them had changed the outcome of the world and some of them had only changed Dean's world but Dean wanted them. Dean wanted them to stay theirs.

So he pulls out his pocket knife and he etches his initials there in the table. Not even his whole name. Just a modest D.W. Doesn't even allow himself that much space or acknowledgement in their own home. But tears sting Sam's eyes as his brother smiles and hands him the knife...the little Dean does allow himself he wants Sam to take with him.

So the two men who have saved the world time and time over leave their mark. They leave it in about four inches of space in the obscure description of "D.W. S.W." And that's that. Big brother, little brother...Winchesters. Saving people, hunting things; the family business.

And that's why Sam decides his older brother is just a touch stunning. The purest light pouring from his soul inviting Sam to live this dangerous, redeeming life with him...he smiles at Sam after the younger brother etches his name and its Dean's contented happiness that wraps them up safe and warm in this moment.

It reflects the simplicity, the sincerity and the sacredness that makes up Dean's very soul, the bright light that had drawn legions of angels to him, inviting Sam in as an equal...as something Dean needs to survive. And that's huge, that fills Sam up to the bursting point to be needed like that...to be wanted like that for himself. Sam looks away to hide his eyes and the happy tears there...god Dean's beautiful

Dean's fingers drift over the small furrows in the wood and he carries on like nothing happened at all as he tells Sam about Ketch's bike and it's undependability. Pretends like he hadn't just initiated the biggest chick flick moment they'd had in years. And they ease the nervous feeling from each other's guts with Ketch's comments about hunting with their mom because there's nothing they can do about it. Sam heads Dean off at one beer, can tell from the way he's squinting in the low lighting that his head hurts like a bitch.

"You better stop there if you want some pain meds before bed." He says easily, as Dean sends him a glare form the mini fridge. "Don't gimme that sour look." He says laughing, "Pretty sure you're a little out of it after that chick flick moment."

Dean frowns and looks down, rubbing at his temples like 'yeah, you're right Sammy.' He sits down again resting his chin on his arms folded on the table, green eyes bright in the light. And Sam can see that slightly 'not all there' gleam in them, concussion Dean could be cute, funny, exasperating or just honestly heart breaking...Sam wonders which one he'll get tonight.

"Who names their monster Black Bill anyway?" He asks, giving a snorting laugh.

And Sam laughs with him, still nursing his first beer, "I know right, kind of lame."

Dean shakes his head, just the small motion making him swallow thickly. "I mean of all the things you could name a scary ass monster..."

Sam sends him a mischievous look, "Your's would be...get ready for it...'The Burger Burglar'." He announces with a flourish of his hands and Dean snorts unimpressed.

"And yours would be 'Bed Head'." He retorts without missing a beat. Their laughs filling the bunker, surrounding them with warmth and security.

Dean sighs into his arms and lets his eyes slide shut with the dying huffs of his laughter but he cracks one back open when Sam kicks him under the table.

"Wha?" He grunts tiredly.

"C'mon," Sam urges rising and tugging on the back of Dean's chair. "Definitely time for you to hit the sack."

Dean doesn't object, lets Sam pull his chair back as he stands and yawns into his elbow. He heads towards his room of his own accord and Sam switches the lights off before following. He steps into Dean's room behind his brother and grins as Dean groans, leaning to untie his boots, shucking off his jacket and button up carelessly tossing them to the floor.

That let Sam know just how tired Dean was and just how much his head hurt.

Dean crawls up his mattress and flops down, sighing when his head hits the pillow. Sam comes out of the bathroom with a whiskey glass half full of water and three aspirin in the palm of his hand. Raising an eyebrow at Dean who huffs and props himself up on an elbow to take the medicine.

"Don't be such a baby." Sam insults fondly as Dean shoots him a dour look before curling up on his side in his jeans and socks and dragging the blanket off the opposite corner of the bed to cover himself. Sam just shakes his head, the grumpiness to be expected from a hurting Dean who was part ways out of it.

He curses under his breath as he trips over Dean's shirts and boots and hears his older brother laughing on his way out the door. "Good night, you ass." He says softly just after he switches off the light.

"Night lil' brother," is whispered after him before Dean goes still and quiet and the little brother has a feeling he's peacefully asleep before Sam even gets to his own room.

...

When Dean wakes up, its to pain. He's sore and stiff as a log, feels like he's been beaten with concrete blocks. He groans as he rolls over to grab his phone off the bedside table and find the time. 8:30, Sam was already long up and at 'em. He runs hands down his face and swings his legs off the side of the bed.

He's still a little dizzy as he sits up, stands to go to the bathroom and nearly breaks his neck tripping over his boots. Karma was a quick bitch, he thinks as he vaguely remembers laughing at Sam the night before who'd done the same thing. He shakes his head and splashes his face with cold water, running wet fingers through dark, reddish brown spikes of hair on top of his head.

He sends himself a cocky grin and heads out to face this day, only he rolls his eyes at himself knowing it's going to suck with how sore he is.

He stops in his room walking to the other side of the bed thinking of the full gun-cleaning inventory he'd been doing and the one he'd left in the drawer of the opposite bedside table. He grins as he opens the drawer, grabs the gun and a butterscotch he'd left there for times of need and shuts it again.

The elder Winchester freezes.

Something was off, something set him off, many years of mistakes had taught him to listen to his own instincts. Dean's face changes all together, the hard lines setting in and giving him a dangerous look. He slides the drawer back open and with quick, efficient fingers he flips through his pictures searching for the one...the one most precious to him.

"Dammit," he swears under his breath, his mood immediately souring. "Sam..." he mutters headed towards the kitchen. It was one thing to steal his socks and stretch them out on his gigantor feet, or leave nasty things like apple cider vinegar water sitting around the kitchen smelling the place up but taking his personal stuff...the important stuff...that was too far.

The younger Winchester looks up when his brother finally makes an appearance, holds up his steaming coffee cup to show Dean there was a fresh pot, watches him carefully to see how sore he is. "Dude, good morning...finally. Found us a case." He waits taking in Dean...immediately aware something is off. The tight set of his shoulders, the impassive look on his face...it hits Sam like a punch in the gut.

"Why are you pissed at me for?" He asks hotly, the silent treatment he's getting making him prickle, he hadn't even seen Dean this morning, let alone do anything to piss him off.

Dean shoots him a withering glare, and stands leaning against the counter holding a steaming cup of coffee in hand. "I want the picture back Sam." He says lowly, his eyes cold but burning at the same time and Sam shivers even in his innocence. "You could've just asked, I'd have let you see it."

"Dean," Sam states, annoyed at the accusation. "I didn't take your anything, you must've moved it and forgot, which picture?."

Dean nearly growls at his little brother in frustration, "The one of me and mom! I didn't move it Sam, I know you took it your the only other person in this damned bunker."

Sam snorts, "Don't even try the whole pissed off growlly Dean Winchester thing with me..." Dean looks affronted. "So unless our house goblin took it, you lost your own picture Dean cause your the only who touches it...oh wait, we don't have a house goblin...now are we gonna talk about the case like adults or are you gonna posture some more?"

Sam's words cut deeper than Dean expected. He could at least be a little sensitive that he'd stolen Dean's most prized possession and not joke about it to his face, mock him. "Sam," he says slowly, "Give it back."

Sam inwardly winces at the hurt look flashing over his brother's face, but the accusation stings. "No." Sam shoots back, "Because I didn't take it."

"Screw you Winchester." Dean bites out as he heads to the door, a middle finger over one shoulder.

"Right back at you." Sam says, sighing in frustration, "What about the case?!" He yells after his older brother.

"Meet me in the car in twenty." Floats back to Sam through the hallways and the echo doesn't cover the pissed off tone still there...and sounding like it's not going anywhere any time soon.

Great. Great. Great.

Sam sighs, hitting himself in the forehead with his iPad. So not the way to diffuse a 'Dean' situation. This hunt was going to be a lot of fun.

Not.

...tbc

Ready to have some fun on this two week break!? Review!?

(I am aware this isn't the direction the show is probably going to go but I just really want some drama and hurt Dean, so here we go again!)

(That scene with the boys carving their names hit me so damn hard. Nothing has got me that good since like...season 9 finale, season 10? Idk but it's been awhile. It reminded me the reason I watch SPN. Reminded me of the epicness and the greatness and sincere love of the boys just like I needed...in short I think I refell in love with those two. Best episode since 'Baby' in my opinion. How about you guys?;))