Rating/Disclaimer: K, own nothing. Nothing!
Summary: Sam can't believe his brother would think that. Seriously. Post LR, just what did Sam do with all of Dean's stuff?
Note: Just a little fluffy one-shot, enjoy!
Dean leaned against the bathroom doorway, arms crossed as he watched his brother move about the motel room. Sam was silently packing up his meager belongings, stuffing them haphazardly into his worn duffle bag. They were heading straight to Bobby's to regroup – to take a look at his old collection of books, see if they could find anything on angels…on Castiel. Dean hadn't really told Sam everything that had happened, giving his younger brother only the basic details the night before.
They had both been exhausted, falling into their respective beds and staring up at the ruined ceiling in silence, Sam massaging his temples due to a headache that had apparently struck out of nowhere.
Sighing softly, Dean shifted on his feet, feeling suddenly out of place. He had nothing to pack, all the weapons were in the trunk, and all he literally had were the clothes on his back. He fingered his necklace absentmindedly, green eyes flicking back towards his brother. Sam was moving about mechanically, his eyes barely seeing as he shoved his laptop into its leather satchel.
"So…" Dean started, raising an eyebrow when Sam turned quickly, appearing startled – as if he had forgotten that there was someone in the room with him. "Y'all right there, sasquatch?"
Sam blinked, obviously attempting to regain his composure as he answered, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
Dean shrugged, not answering the question, "You almost done packing? We're nearly past check-out time. I don't know about you, but I'd rather the clerk didn't come up here and see the mess." He gestured to the broken glass that littered the floor, they had simply cleared off the beds the night before – neither of them had had the energy to find another motel so late.
Swallowing, Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. Don't think I'm forgetting anything." He replied, glancing around the room quickly for a final check.
Dean shoved himself off of the door frame and moved closer to his younger brother, his own eyes scanning the room for any left behinds. "Alright dude, let's get on the road then. A nice, long assed shower is calling my name – and Bobby's bathroom has awesome water pressure. I still smell like dirt." He said, grinning.
His brother winced at the weak joke and remained silent.
"You sure you're okay, Sammy?"
Sam jerked a little at the nickname, barely managing a weak smile as he reassured his brother that nothing was wrong. Dean didn't believe him for a second, but shrugged and let it go – for now. Instead he glanced down at the half empty, solitary duffle, "You're packing light."
I needed more room for the weapons. "Didn't really need all that much after…" Sam mumbled, voice fading a little, "Just stuck to the necessities, ya know?"
After I died, Dean finished in his head, frowning a little. "Yeah, I did notice that our weapons cache has grown significantly. Dad would've been impressed." Sam had obviously done a lot of hunting when he had been…indisposed. The thought of his kid brother going after monsters on his own made his stomach clench painfully. He wasn't stupid; it was easy to figure out that Sam had lost a lot of his clothes on hunts…rips, blood…
Dean shook away the images of his brother bleeding all over the place, all by himself in a dark room somewhere, and said softly, "Guess we're going to have to hit a Wal-Mart or something on our way to Bobby's."
"What?" Sam questioned, looking genuinely confused, forehead creased in puzzlement, "I haven't lost that many clothes, I should still be good for a while."
"Not for you. Man, aren't you supposed to be the smart college boy 'round here? For me, Sammy. I'm gonna have to pick up some new stuff." Dean answered.
"Why?" Sam asked bluntly, still looking mystified.
Rolling his eyes skyward, Dean replied, "How many times have you hit your head in the past month? Dude, in case you haven't noticed, I'm still wearing the same clothes that I was – " He cut himself off, catching himself before his finished the sentence. The clothes that I was buried in. "Anyways, I'm going to need more to wear."
Comprehension finally dawned on Sam's face, and he gave his older brother an incredulous look. "You think, you think that I…" He managed to get out, shooting Dean a disbelieving glare. "You think that I threw out your clothes?" He finally growled; a hint of shocked anger in his voice.
This time it was Deans turn to look confused, and he answered uncertainly, "Well, yeah. I thought you stuck to the necessities?"
"You're friggen' unbelievable, Dean. I still have them, I still have everything. The cassette tapes, your clothes, fake IDs, your leather jacket…all of it. The only thing I tossed was the stuff you were wearing the night you…well, that night. It's all in the car – in the backseat. I can't believe you thought that I would just toss it all away! They were necessities!"
"You…why?" Dean finally asked, although he already knew the answer. 'Cause he would have done the same thing – he never would have been able to get rid of Sammy's stuff, not in a million years.
His anger fading, Sam met his brother's eyes and answered quietly, "I knew you'd need it all when you came back." He didn't bother mentioning the fact that there had been many a night when he had taken out one of Dean's old hoodies and slept with it on, something he had done in a desperate attempt to feel closer to his older brother.
There was a small silence, in which both brothers stared at each other steadily. A strange warmth swelled in Dean's stomach, and the urge to hug Sam was suddenly overwhelming, but he didn't move. Instead, he smiled at his brother, his grin deepening when Sam returned the gesture – dimples and all. God, he missed that smile.
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Dean mumbled, laughing a little, "Dude, you are such a girl." Thanks for never giving up, kiddo.
"And you're a friggen jerk. I can't believe you thought I would do that." Sam answered in return, a playful whine in his voice as he shouldered his duffle.
"Ah, stop your whining, bitch." Dean growled back, shutting the door behind them as they exited the room. It's good to be back, I missed ya Sammy.
"You are such an ass." Sam grinned. Missed you too, Dean.
Well, that's that! It was short, simple and yeah…short and simple! Lol!