Challenge WOW: Shoulder
Summary: tag to "Sam Interrupted". Dean bottles it up because he thinks he has to. Sam thinks different. NO WINCEST intended.
Word Count: 347
Lean On Me
He told me to bottle it up, to keep it locked away inside. Because that's what he did. That's how he got through the day. I didn't want to tell him that's what was killing him too. Keeping Hell, and Michael, and Jo and Ellen, and Dad locked away was killing him from the inside out. I don't know how he managed to be that strong.
I walked into the motel room with the bags from the diner. I froze. Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, holding a whiskey bottle between his knees. His shoulders where shaking lightly and the softest sobs I've ever heard drifted their way across the room. I guess he didn't hear me come in. I set the bags down as silently as I could. If he heard me he'd shut down and bottle it up and put on a smirk and tell me to stop acting like a girl. Then if I pushed the issue he'd yell and get angry and leave. He'd go to a bar, drink a little to dull the pain and come back when he knew I'd be asleep.
I sat down next to him, gently putting my hand on his shoulder.
"Dean," I said quietly. He jumped, dropping the closed bottle. "It's alright."
This was one of those rare moments that Dean would let himself be vulnerable. He wouldn't bottle it up. He wouldn't get angry with me. He'd let me help.
"Sammy, I…" His voice was quiet and hoarse.
"It's alright, Dean. You don't have to bury it all the time. It's okay."
"No, no, it-"
"Dean, don't. It's okay."
Dean let me hug him, he let himself cry in my shoulder.
"I'm with you, Dean. And I'm there for you too. You're my brother."
Dean cried, for the first time in a long time. He didn't say much, except for three words.
"Thank you, Sammy."
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