After a long, hot, dreary day, Sam wanted nothing more than to drop his backpack on the floor and himself in bed for a long, long sleep. He found an envelope waiting for him on the pillow though. A letter. He never got letters

When he picked it up , he recognized the handwriting – Dean. Which made no sense at all. Aside from every other reason this was wrong, Dean never wrote letters. He said he never liked anything that could be used against him committed to paper.

But he had written Sam a letter. The postmark was only a few days before and the postage was accomplished with an assortment of stamps that took up most of the corner of the envelope.


Would he ever figure Dean out?

Wearily, Sam dropped himself on the edge of the bed and tore open the envelope.

Dear Sam,

I'm fine – don't worry. This isn't a "come quick, I'm dying" letter. Just checking in.

Things are quiet, hunt-wise, which in and of itself is unusual, if not ominous. I guess I just gotta keep the weapons sharp and my wits sharper (no funny remarks from you either, Sammy) and take things as they come.

I miss you. You're far enough away from me that I can say that and not worry about you laughing in my face. You can laugh though if you want. I kinda almost wish you would, because I don't like missing you. I prefer you being with me.

No, don't worry – this isn't a 'drop everything and rush back no matter what' letter either. Just a – 'take care of yourself' letter. You need to take care of yourself because the older you get, the less I feel like I know how to take care of you. Sometimes I really miss those days when all it took to make everything OK was a bandaid, a hug, and a kiss.

No, don't deny it. You remember those days just as well as I do. You know it's the truth.

I get that maybe you don't want much to do with me right now. I wasn't exactly on your side through most of this, was I? And I know there's no bandaid big enough for everything now, but I swear if a kiss & a hug was all it took to make your life OK again, I would. (Even if I had to choke hold you to the floor to do it.).

So, anyway. Just – take care of yourself Sammy. Okay? I know there's been a lot more distance than just geography between us, but you know – I hope you know – you just gotta say the word and I'm there. I know it hasn't seemed that way maybe but – I mean it.


ps – if you don't salt & burn this letter as soon as you read it I will know and I will hunt you down and burn it myself. You've been warned.

Sam re-read the letter half a dozen times. Dean would never ever mention it, and Sam knew he could mention it only at his own peril. That's just how things worked with Dean.


Truth be told, Sam missed him too.

He took another look at the bed and the long sleep he'd been planning on and decided it could wait. Out the door and down the stairs, he could hear Dean down in the kitchen with Bobby, hashing out the particulars of dinner and who was gonna cook and who was gonna clean up and whoever said y'needed legs to make chicken and dumplings anyway, y'idjit?

Sam folded the letter over and over and shoved it into his pocket and headed downstairs.

The End