Sam let the newspaper drop to his knees and considered his brother, absolutely positive he didn't want to know what moved. "Uh huh." He shifted from one ass cheek to the other, pulling a foot onto the hard bench attached to the equally hard cell wall.
Dean pointed through the cell bars and turned to look at Sam, "That damn thing moved."
Leaning to one side and looking around Dean Sam had to admit he was more than a little relieved to find out Dean was talking about the Jack O'Lantern sitting on the sheriff's desk a few yards away. "Okaaay."
Halloween night and wasn't it somehow poetic justice they were stuck in a jail cell?
"Anything good in the paper?" Dean waved at the newspaper lying across Sam's knee.
Sam shrugged, "It's three weeks old."
Shoving Sam's legs over, Dean slid onto the bench beside him and leaned over far enough to look at the paper. "Probably haven't seen the comics."
"Whatever." Sam flicked at the edge of the paper harder than he'd intended and it fluttered to the floor.
Dean's head dropped until his chin hit his chest. He reached down slowly and pulled the paper up. "Dude, you have been pissed at me for days now, what the hell did I do?"
Turning away to glare at the joining wall and the sink there Sam shrugged and huffed. "Just read your stupid comics, I'm sure they're awesome."
Folding the newspaper and setting it carefully on the bench beside him, Sam felt Dean draw in a few huge breaths. "You're pissed at me because I told a ten-year-old he was awesome."
It wasn't a question so Sam didn't particularly feel the need to answer more beyond a half-hearted shoulder shrug. He'd listened to a demon over his own brother, so it wasn't like Sam had room to complain or even feel the tiniest bit hurt.
Dean's hand settled firmly on Sam's shoulder. "Sammy—"
"Drop it." Sam snarled out a warning. Now he was feeling nothing but plain stupid and childish, jealous of words Dean said to some kid they'd never seen before and likely would never see again.
"Ya' know, Sam…" Wasn't it just like Dean to ignore him? "That kid, I didn't care a rat's ass about how he felt or if he cared what I said. I cared that he got on the right side. That kid isn't my kid brother, so what he can do doesn't have to scare the crap out of me wondering what it's doing to him."
Straightening Sam turned far enough he could look Dean in the face.
"It's a whole lot different when it's not the most important person to me ever. It's different because you were being jerked around and used right under my nose and all I could think of is what is it doing to you? It's a whole lot different when I was living every minute thinking how I was going to lose you, again. Those things aren't very awesome."
Where their shoulders touched Sam felt how Dean shook, or maybe it was Sam doing all the shaking, he wasn't sure.
"It's a whole lot different when I saw someone who wasn't my little brother but just might be able to keep you from being used more than you have been, hurt more than both of us have been. That was totally awesome."
Sam shifted more on the bench, pressing his spine against Dean's side, pretending not to notice when Dean lifted his arm and let it settle warm and solid across Sam's back.
"I'm sorry." Sam managed to get the words he'd repeated over and over out of his thick, wet throat.
"Me too." Dean sighed, his arm tightened. "That kid, he sure isn't who I want fighting with me, he's not who belongs in the Impala and he's got nothing on my kid brother. He's not who I'd die for."
"Me either." Sam relaxed more against his brother's side. They really were going to be brothers again, or maybe they'd never stopped, simply lost sight of what that meant for a time.
"First thing we do when we get out tomorrow? We waste that damn pumpkin."
Snorting a short laugh, Sam nodded. "Now that would be awesome."