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"Sam, is this okay? I didn't think-"
"It's, it's fine."
"Are you sure? 'Cause I can find a couch-"
"No. No! Please, don't go."
Dean's heart broke a little more at the thickness in Sam's voice.
"Sam."
Sam buried his face in his hands and his shoulders heaved once. Dean took a step towards his brother, arms coming up, hands reaching to comfort and then hesitated.
"Can I..."
Sam nodded.
"I feel so stupid."
"Aw, Sam..."
Gently but firmly, Dean took Sam in his arms and folded him in. Sam didn't flinch and he didn't resist but still there was a moment, a slight tension, before the kid gave in- but he did give in, and Dean felt a bit of the weight on his shoulders lessen.
Sam was hot and bony, too tall and heavy, but still he managed to fit in Dean's arms as well or better than when he'd been a little thing. His shoulders shuddered with another few almost silent sobs and he fumbled a little at the flannel under his hands with nerveless fingers. Dean held him tighter, dug his chin in, too, reaching up with one hand to press the kid's head more securely on his shoulder.
Sam shuddered one last time and then went suddenly soft and quiescent, *peaceful,* Dean thought, and stood calm and still for the first time in, well, since...
"You're so good to me," Sam muttered into Dean's shirt in a wet, small voice.
"Well, yeah, and don't you forget it."
Sam made a single, soft "ha," then said,
"Lemme go. I gotta blow my nose- or I could just use your shirt like I did when I was little.”
"Naw, I can live without that, Sammy. Besides, this is my last clean shirt."
They found a box of tissues conveniently to hand on one of the bedside tables. Sam blew his nose and Dean mocked him very gently while he did so. Sam laughed a bit more genuinely than before and then swayed on his feet, suddenly exhausted. Dean took the tissue from him, tossed it in the (conveniently near the bed) trash can and tugged on his arm.
"Come on, in bed, now."
"Yeah, yeah, no need to bully."
The words were said without heat and Sam went willingly into bed and under the covers.
"You are gonna love this mattress," he murmured, then yawned suddenly and hugely.
"Shush," Dead shushed him, turned out the lights and slid in beside him. He had a moment's anxiety that Sam might lose his calm but instead Sam curled into him, a bit tentative and almost clumsy as though he were shy, but both of them sighed with relief at the contact. A little wordless negotiation resulted in them twined together as though nothing could get between them.
"Man..."
“No shit.”
“Thanks, Dean. Thanks for being so patient.”
“Whatever,” Dean scoffed quietly, but he rubbed his nose on against Sam’s temple, hoping that this show of affection from their childhood wouldn’t trigger anything but comfort. Sam chuckled very quietly and said,
“Aw… you remember…”
Dean clung briefly to his brother, a bit desperate in the return of ease, and Sam sighed, then relaxed, sighed again and a moment later sleep claimed him.
Dean lay awake a while longer, gratefulness for Sam's peaceful sleep spilling from his eyes in a few hot tears. He listened to his brother's steady, slow breath, feeling the rhythm of his own breathing gradually settle. As he was falling asleep he thought, I don’t know where we’re going but at least we’re going together.