Chapter Four

Sam walked back toward the diner. The snow was tapering off, and the wind was dying down. It was a quiet night, the weather having taken the cars and people off the streets. He saw the light shining out of the diner's window and felt a nervous shiver go through him. It was hard to tell himself to drop his defenses and his guilt, and just be Dean's brother again. But, seeing the two of them over all the years as he had tonight…it reminded him that they were pretty good at being brothers. That was what was important to Sam. He liked who he was when he was being Dean's little brother. The Sam who was always trying to fight destiny, fight the world and Heaven and Hell? He wasn't so crazy about that guy. He took in a deep breath. It was time to stop letting outside events define who he was. He couldn't change what had happened, but he could damn sure do better at being Sam Winchester. Maybe he could try being the guy who looked out for his brother, and himself, before he worried about the outside forces swirling around him.

Sam was going to have to trust his instincts. He did know Dean, that much was still true. He'd maybe chosen to not let himself really see his brother for a long time. Since before Hell, even. Because it had all been so hard, so damn sad and wrenching to think of Dean suffering because he'd wanted to save Sam. So, yeah, he'd done a damn fine job of walling himself up. Nothing could touch Robo-Sam, so nothing could hurt him. But, that hadn't turned out all that well. He was lonely even sitting right next to the one person who ought to make him feel at home. If he had a shot at changing that, then he had to take it. Even if it meant opening himself up again. He had to try. Because the guy he'd been when they'd come into town tonight? That guy was a good hunter, but a sorry excuse for a brother.

He walked into the warmth of the diner and looked for Dean. He was sitting at a booth in the corner, hunched on his elbows, staring down at the table. Sam squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked over. When he got to the edge of the table, he cleared his throat. Dean looked up. Sam made himself hold his gaze. Before tonight, he would have looked away, not wanting to see what wasn't in his brother's eyes anymore. But, this time, Sam just looked at him, tried to read his expression, drop his own defenses and just see Dean. As Dean looked at him Sam could see speculation, concern, and, there, underneath, the same look he'd seen on Dean's face for most of his life, 'you okay, Sammy?' It was all written right there.

Sam smiled. He could do this. It was like breathing for him. He couldn't believe he'd let himself forget. Dean was his brother. What a total idiot I've been. Sam nodded toward the open seat. "Okay if I join you?"

********

Dean saw Sam come in, and apprehension filled him. He wondered if Sam could somehow tell he'd wished him away, earlier tonight. Dean considered telling him about Mary and his Magical Mystery Tour. Decided against it. Yeah, Sam, I kinda wished you'd never been born tonight…There was no good way for Sam to take that. Whatever Mary had been, angel, spectre, ghost, she had helped Dean get his head out of his ass, and he could only be grateful to her.

Sam saw him, stood at the edge of the table, like he needed permission to sit down, for Christ's sake. Dean didn't know how to start. 'Hey, Sam, I get how you've done the best you could fighting the demon blood…wish I hadn't been such a dick about the whole thing…wish you'd trusted me to help you, wish that I'd been able to help you…I just want you to be okay.' But, what came out of his mouth was, "Shut up and sit, doofus."

Sam laughed, he sat. He had this weird half smile on his face. Weird, because, frankly, Dean hadn't seen him look that relaxed in a long time. Sam looked right at him, no staring at the table, or skating his gaze around. Just, that slight smile. "So, what's good?"

Dean smirked. "It's a diner, Sam. You're going to order a girly Cobb salad and Coke, so what difference does it make what's good?"

The waitress came over. Sam looked up at her, gave her a warm smile. Dean couldn't help his eyebrows going up. Sam was smiling? At a stranger? For no reason? Dean wondered just where Sam had been the last couple hours. Had he---?

Sam glanced at the waitresses name tag. "Hi, Denise. How's the meatloaf here?"

Denise smiled back at Sam. "It's the best thing on the menu. Can I bring mashed potatoes, gravy and biscuits with that?"

Sam nodded, kept smiling. "That sounds great. And a piece of warm apple pie with a scoop of vanilla for my brother."

Dean tiltled his head. "Well, your mood took an upturn."

Sam looked over at him, his smile going softer. "Yeah. Yeah, it did. Listen, Dean, um, I want to say something. I'm sorry---"

Dean held up a hand, "Sam, please, would you stop? We've covered just about everything you're sorry for, like, 100 times. Just drop it, will ya?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I want to say this, so, please, just listen a minute?"

Dean rolled his eyes, made a gesture to go on.

Sam rubbed his hands along his thighs, in one of his nervous tells. His eyes got serious, and he leaned in toward Dean. "I've been a crappy brother to you, for the last couple years. And, I'm sorry for that. I didn't understand…I let myself get distracted by a lot of things, and I shouldn't have. You're my family, Dean. I lost sight of that, and took a lot of stuff out on you that wasn't your fault. I hope, even if it's not right now, that you can find a way to forgive me. I'll understand if you can't, I just wanted to---"

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

Dean started to speak, found himself getting choked up. Because, he looked at his little brother, and his eyes were alive, again. He was leaning in, looking at Dean with something like, affection? Acceptance? Whatever it was, it put a damn lump in his throat. He wanted to tell Sam that he understood, tell him that he's sorry, too, and that he's going to do better, be a better brother. But, instead, the words don't come and he just sits there, staring back at Sam. And, in a moment that practically sings through Dean, because it's so them, Sam smiled and gave him 'the look.' The one that said, 'I get it. I'm here. You and me…'

And, friggin' hell, Dean got emotional. In a damn diner. He felt his eyes getting moist, tried to pull it in, and man up. Then, Sam's smile went all trembly, and he put his hand on Dean's arm. And Dean knew. Just like that, they're on the same page, again. Sam gets it.

And, Dean, for the first time in forever, feels lucky. He feels lucky that Sam is his brother, that they have this bond. That they have each other to try to get through this shit storm. He made himself hold Sam's gaze, let him see all he's feeling in that moment. It's like a world of understanding passes between them. All Dean can choke out is, "Me, too."

Sam nodded, turned away to wipe a tear. Oh, for God's sake. Was he trying to get me to cry like a damn woman, too? Sam's voice is quiet, warm. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean shakes his head. "No, don't thank me. I haven't exactly been brother of the year, either."

Sam chuckles. "Fair enough."

Dean looks affronted. "What? You've been a worse brother than I have."

Sam's smile dims for a moment, and Dean thinks he veered wrong. But, then, Sam's mouth curls up in a half smile. "Fair enough. But, I'm neater. And, I don't snore."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Screw you, I don't snore."

Sam smirks. "Like Fred Flintstone, man."

Dean gapes. "Yeah, well, at least I'm not a doofus."

"Doofus, huh? So nice to see your reading of Dostoevsky is paying off."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Like I care what some old Russian dude has to say."

The waitress brings Sam's food, and Dean's pie, and they dig in. Sam looks up, "Surprised you even know he's Russian."

Dean smirks. "A chick I knew in Arizona loved the guy. I had to buy the cliff notes just to ask her out…What a lot of whining and navel gazing. And snow. Jesus, it was always snowing with that guy…"

Sam forks up some potatoes. "Snow was a metaphor, Dean…"

Outside the diner, John and Mary stand and watch the boys' animated conversation through the window. They turn to each other and join hands. They disappear in a shaft of light.

The End