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Dean’s head lolled against Sam’s plaid shirt. His eyes were drooping and if Sam wasn’t mistaken, his hand was moving right up to his mouth and yes – Sam smiled – Dean popped his thumb in his mouth.
There was a lot more drool than Sam had been expecting when it came to looking after his older-but-not-anymore brother, and drool and mucus were strangely surprising. Sam remembered many many times as a kid when Dean had wiped Sam’s nose and thrust tissues or used his own sleeve on Sam’s upper lip but it wasn’t anything he remembered about Dean, and it seemed very undignified for his belching, farting, crass brother to have a snotty face.
But Sam adjusted, as he had to nowadays.
The hand-holding, that was a perk. Dean wasn’t a chatty kid, and he was a bit aloof in many senses, but when he was interested in things he’d reach right up for Sam’s hand and pull him over, eyes wide and smiling.
Sam never remembered Dean being quiet. The Dean of his childhood was as boisterous and noisy as Dean had been adult, but Charlie reminded him that this Dean was probably about four, very certainly soon after the fire when apparently he had stopped talking, which she had of course found out from the Supernatural books – and Sam was really big and was definitely not Dean’s daddy. They weren’t sure if Dean let Sam take care of him because he remembered being an adult or because Sam had been the one to find him, but Dean had screamed his way through enough nightmares so far for Sam to be sure he hadn’t entirely forgotten his adulthood.
Currently, Krissy, Aiden, Charlie, Sam and Dean were watching Toy Story on Charlie’s laptop. They needed to get a tv rigged up in the bunker as now it had become a base for their extended family, lots of evenings were spent watching things on laptops. And Charlie had plans to show Cas the wonders of entertainment. Sam chose to ignore how Krissy and Aiden were intertwined; as long as they kept it PG-13 in public they could do whatever they wanted, but in a funny way Sam had become very parental to the inhabitants of the bunker, filling in for Dean, he supposed. Sam would make sure Josephine and Kevin actually got some sleep, make sure Cas was resting and eating and showering – actually similar to how he was looking after Dean now – make sure Aiden was going to school and Krissy wasn’t picking fights with all her classmates. Luckily for him, Charlie and Garth could pretty much look after themselves. Garth just needed a bit of attention sometimes and Charlie needed to be dragged off her video games after a certain amount of time.
Dean was still awake when Buzz Lightyear saved Woody, and when Buzz repeated, “This is falling, with style,” he relaxed against Sam again. Sam hadn’t realized he’d tensed up in anticipation of the line. Hadn’t realized he remembered Toy Story – when had Dean seen Toy Story anyway?
Cas entered the room some point during the last few minutes and Sam hoped he caught the way Dean’s face lit up. He pulled away from Sam as the credits rolled, laughing with all of them as the bloopers came on, and sat next to Cas whispering in his ear. Cas listened with intent, watching Dean’s gestures carefully. When he made a complicated turn and soar with his hand Sam realized he was explaining exactly what had happened in Toy Story . Krissy and Aiden had drifted into their own little world, which Sam was sure would dissolve into bickering shortly, and Charlie had given into the incessant ping of her Facebook.
Sam’s stomach growled. “Who’s hungry?”
“Can we have mac and cheese?” Krissy asked.
“Gross, ignore her,” Aiden said, “I kinda want pasta.”
“Can’t we just order in?” asked Charlie, not looking away from her computer screen.
Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s a secret bunker, Charlie. We can’t order in.”
“The hell’s a pizza guy gonna do with this knowledge?”
“Do you require some assistance?” This was Cas, obviously. He looked up at Sam, squinting slightly in that way he often did in quite a lot of situations.
“Ca-aaaas,” whined Dean, “You’re not listening.”
“Apologies.”
Sam smiled. “No, you’re good, but thanks.” He left the 'sitting room' - it had been an empty room that Charlie and Dean had made Sam pull some mattresses and blankets and cushions into to make a fort, and was now largely the most comfortable room in the bunker. Josephine and Kevin were in the library as usual; Kevin was continuing to translate the angel tablet to see what secrets it held, and Josephine, like Sam, could spend hours perusing the busy shelves. Sam and Charlie also thought that Kevin and Josephine got on awfully well, sharing many inside jokes and small references. Sam also reminded Charlie that two people could be good friends and be entirely platonic but Charlie told him to shut up, it was cute.
They were seated at the same table, engrossed in their reading. Sam felt rude breaking the silence but they had to eat. "Hungry?" he asked. They both grunted. He assumed that meant yes.
Times like these, he didn’t mind that Dean had become a kid again. That wasn’t to say it couldn’t be difficult. It was hard, man it was hard. Sam wanted more than anything just to have Dean – his Dean – to just share the pain with, to tease Kevin about Josephine and make nerdy jokes with Charlie and give Cas a hand with being human.
And Dean was undoubtedly a better cook than Sam had ever been. Sam missed old Dean, he really did. But their dad had definitely scarred old Dean in many ways, and if it hadn’t been for Dean Sam could have been affected the same. Maybe now he could save Dean, rather than saving the world.