Sammy's making those noises again.
The ones that sound like he's in pain but can't wake up.
I still have some of that dream root tea and it's really sounding like a good idea to break into Sammy's head and beat the shit out of whoever's making him make those noises. I know I told him I'd thrown the rest out and it'd be awful to just invade his privacy like that and I'd kick his ass if he did it to me. But he's my little brother, I gotta protect him.
I quickly but quietly mix the tea and drink it down.
I blink and when my eyes open again I'm standing in a long hallway. There are pictures lining the walls on both sides, as I look closer at them I realize they're all of me. Me saving Sam from the things that go bump. Me looking like a hero in all of them.
Ooookay Sam, hero worship much?
I shake off the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach that says I shouldn't be here and sneak down the hall towards the only door in the hallway. It's slightly ajar and a sliver of soft yellow light is coloring the closest picture in reflective shades of sunrise. The picture is of us hugging after I brought him back to life.
There are sounds coming from inside the room and I'm not certain I want to open it anymore. This entire hallway is filled with memories of us, it only makes sense that the room at the end would be as well. But I couldn't bear it if I was the one making him make those pained noises in his sleep. If I was his nightmare.
I watch in trepidation as my hand reaches out and nudges the door open halfway.
The yellow light is coming from several candlestick wall torches set into the stone walls of the dungeon cell. It flickers over a pair of dark jeans, I recognize them as Sam's favorite pair, a pair of tennis shoes, also Sam's, a pair of rumpled Buffy boxers. I paused, my gaze stuck on those boxers. Those boxers that weren't Sam's. Those boxers that belong to me.
Haltingly my gaze moved to the illuminated king sized four poster bed, the deep scarlet duvet with thick black swirling designs, the big fluffy red pillow strewn carelessly on the floor, the slight shaking the frame of that bed seemed to be doing.
Slid over to the dip in the mattress being made by the foot, up the lean strong calf and tanned thigh, over a perfect soft ass, along the long spine rippling with movement, sidetracked on several rivulets of moisture running down the sides.
Moved along the set shoulders and out along the taut arm, over the hard silver cuffs securely chaining the wrist to the one under it, the hands were clasped tightly, tendons standing out on the forearms with the force of the hold.
Slowly, my eyes went back to the shoulders and instead moved up the craned neck to the thick shaggy brown hair, the big strong hand gripping that familiar hair and pulling it closer, down the side of the face along an elegant cheekbone to the soft smiling lips being devoured by the full pink set beneath them.
I stared in shock at the freckles pasted across the bridge of my own nose as I kissed my brother forcefully while the hands not captured by the cuffs freely roamed the rest of our forms.
My mouth fell open and I couldn't look away. The noises I'd been hearing took on a new meaning, they were sounds of reluctant pleasure, not of pain.
"S-Sam?!" I heard myself say loudly and both figures froze.
Sam's head slowly turned, to stare me dead in the face, horror etched across his features as his gaze switched between the me below him and me.
My eyes snapped open and I was back in the cheap motel room sitting in the uncomfortable token chair present in any hotel room, facing the single double bed.
The empty single double bed.
I was about to wonder where Sam was when pain bloomed across my left cheek and I toppled out of the chair.
I looked up to see Sam, hair rumpled from sleep, fury glowing in his eyes.
"Dean, what the fuck was that?"
"You sounded like you were in pain…" I mumbled, not quite able to look him right in the eye.
"So you break into my head?!" he shouted at me, hands flailing slightly as he tried to express his anger.
"Yeah, well trust me on this one Sammy, I really wish I hadn't." I yelped loudly as the pain in my cheekbone throbbed.
A flash of hurt and anger flew over his face, "Yeah, well fuck you Dean."
Sam turned as though to storm away but I couldn't keep the words on my tongue in my mouth, "Actually Sam, I'm pretty sure you were fucking yourself. On me."
He froze and slowly turned to look at me again, color rising in his cheeks.
"Dreams are symbolic Dean. That doesn't mean I want you to fuck me," he bit out, glaring at me.
"Yeah okay Sammy," I stood abruptly and brushed past him, "I'm taking a shower, I feel really dirty for some reason. I have no idea why but I feel like I just saw the worst thing I could have ever seen in my life. It's almost like I just watched my brother fuck himself on me in his dreams. But apparently that could be symbolic for something, did you know that Sam?"
He glared at me, a mulish look flowing into his eyes as he glanced down and away from me with shame on his face, making for the door.
"I'm taking a shower, don't leave the room." I snapped.
"Dean I'm not a child anymore you can't tell me what to do!" Sam growled.
"Stay. In. The. Room."
A sharp exasperated exhalation puffed out and he stormed back past me and slammed himself into the uncomfortable chair facing the bed.
"Don't leave," I said one last time before I slammed the bathroom door loud enough to wake the entire motel.
I stripped quickly and unceremoniously as I turned the water on as hot as I could not quite caring if it burned me. I jumped in and shouted wordlessly jumping right back out. Okay maybe that was a little too hot. I adjusted it so that it still burned but in a bearable way and hopped back into the scalding water.
I glared down at my dick and willed the hardness to go away. When it didn't flag in the least I decided to just ignore it, proceeding to scrub every inch of myself until I was slightly pink all over. I stood under the steaming water for a while thinking about what I'd just seen.
I decided I could give Sammy a chance and go with symbolic.
I stepped out of the shower and wrapped the tiny hotel towel around my waist, heading back out into the room with, "Alright, so symbolic of what Sam?"
I paused my rummaging for clean boxers, the only pair I seemed to have that were clean were the buffy ones and I was so not going there.
When this still got no response I straightened and glanced over at the chair. No Sam. I glanced behind me at the door. Still locked. I took a few steps forward and peered around the corner at the bed. Bingo.
Sam was sprawled across his side of the bed twitching every few seconds, probably stuck in another bad dream- even worse another symbolic one. I shuddered and walked over to my side of the bed, leaning over I jabbed him in the shoulder, "Sam!"
Intelligible. Sure glad my Sammy went to college to learn all those big words. I leaned further over and shoved at his shoulder.
"Sam! Symbolic. Explain. Now."
Aha the log awakens.
"Yeah. Your dream?"
Okay, clearly not awake yet, but at least he's speaking now…
I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back against the wall.
"Your dream Sam, come on man wake up!"
He blinked blearily up at me in confusion, "My dream?"
"Ohhhh you wanna know how i'was symbolic?" he managed after a yawn too big for his face.
I closed my eyes attempting to be patient, "Yeah Sam. I would like to know how your dream was symbolic so we can both just go to bed and forget about it."
"Mmmm which part?" he mumbled as his head flopped back down and his eyes slid shut again.
"What?" I asked, squinting at him in confusion.
"Which part you wanna hear about?" he clarified into his pillow.
"Uh," I stared at him like he was an alien, what the hell did he mean what part?! "The whole thing?"
"No Dean, which part of the dream specifically."
"My Buffy boxers. Why did you have to ruin my Buffy boxers? What did those stand for?"
The thought shot out before I even realized I was asking.
"Uh, I think I was doing a pretty good job of standing for my own damn self without Buffy's help."
"No Dean, you. Funny, cheesy, ironic, geeky you."
"I am not a geek Sam. That's you."
"Yeah okay, cause I own Buffy boxers."
"Jerk," Sam laughed sleepily and grinned.
"What about the pictures?"
"In the hall, all the pictures were of me looking heroic and shit."
"Usually I show em to you, try 'n' make you get how 'mportant you are. Cause I know you dunno how much you matter."
I stared at him. I'd assumed this was a one time dream deal here but there was a 'usually" going on that I wasn't informed about?
"Alright, what about the handcuffs? You got some kink I should know about?"
"I like handcuffs but that's not the point. They were s'posed to mean like… how close we are. There can't be Sam without Dean and visa versa. We're all we have and we're not letting go."
Great. Sammy likes handcuffs but that isn't the point. My little Sammy. I shook my head trying to get past that to the rest of the sentence.
"I guess that sounds about right… What about the uh… the… you know…" I trailed off, feeling my face heat up in a way it hasn't done since I was in elementary school.
I choked on nothing and almost had a coughing fit before I finally got out a strangled, "Er, yeah."
"I trust you. Love you. You take care of me Dean, even if sometimes I'm mean and I push you away I can always trust you to be there anyways. 'N' I love you so much, you're all I got left. All I got left in the whole world…"
I looked away and up at the ceiling. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel but choked up was the dominant feeling clogging throat.
"Dammit Sammy, I told you no friggin chick flick moments! Just because you're half asleep doesn't mean the rules suddenly stop applying…"
"But Dean, s'true. I love you, and you never let me say it. We're brothers, we're s'posed to say it. How do we know we love each other if we don't say it?"
"I love you too Sam, you oughtta know that by now. Go to sleep."
I smiled, "Bitch."
He rolled over and went to sleep, moments later I followed suit.
A/N:. So next chapter will pick up in the middle of the night when Dean wakes up suddenly to a freezing room and an equally freezing half asleep Sammy doing what any other normal person would do in the circumstance. Huddling close to the nearest available heat source. It's not his fault it just happens to be Dean.