Summary: Season 7 or later in Season 8...your choice – Sam swallowed as he blinked against the unexpected sting of tears; touched that after everything they had been through, most of Dean's life – including his brother's stupid email password – still revolved around him.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: Set in season seven or season eight, primarily because of one character's name being mentioned; otherwise, no spoilers.
A/N: Another one-shot born of the E/O Challenge word-of-the-week (surge).
If you wanna be in my world, you gotta know the password. ~ Kylie Minogue
The lightning flashed.
The power surged.
And the laptop screen went blank.
"Crap..." Sam growled in annoyance, scowling at the empty screen as the lights instantly blinked back on in the motel room.
Dean snorted from where he was sitting across from his brother, knowing what had happened on the opposite side of the small table. "I told you to get off that thing..."
Sam's scowl deepened at the big-brother-knows-it-all tone of Dean's voice, cutting his eyes at Dean as he pressed the power button on the laptop.
Thunder grumbled outside.
"This might be the break we've been waiting for, Dean," Sam reminded, watching as the screen flashed its various codes as the computer rebooted.
"Maybe..." Dean replied skeptically, still scanning the headlines of the newspaper spread out on his side of the table...and still not sure how much confidence he put in information about a case passed along by Garth.
"He's a good guy," Sam defended, clicking on the browser icon and knowing his brother's thoughts.
Lightning flashed once more.
Sam sighed, refocusing on the laptop's screen...and then sighing again.
Dean glanced up at his brother's dramatics. "Problem, princess?"
Sam shook his head. "No," he replied.
Even though the email he had been reading from Garth before the power briefly went out had been in Dean's inbox...which Dean had logged into prior to switching seats with Sam.
But now that the laptop was rebooted and the email page was reopened, it was asking for a password for the account.
Sam sighed once more, confident he could figure out Dean's password even if doing so was an extra pain in his ass that he was not in the mood for tonight.
A gust of wind blew rain against the motel room's window.
Sam glanced across the room, then at his brother, and then back at the laptop screen. "Okay..." he said to himself and started testing possible words to hack into his brother's email account.
Dean quirked a smile at his stubborn little brother; knowing Sam's dilemma on the opposite side of the table but letting the kid sweat it out until Sam directly asked for his help.
And Sam would eventually ask for his help because while the kid was smart, he was never going to figure this one out.
Dean's smile lingered, continuing to read the newspaper while listening to the furious typing – and almost immediate backspacing – from across the table as Sam repeatedly tried different possibilities.
Thunder rolled followed by a sharp flash of lightning.
Sam's forehead wrinkled in concentration as he stared at the laptop screen, not understanding why the obvious passwords weren't working.
Sam sighed and glanced across the table at his brother.
Dean didn't look up but could feel Sam's gaze. "May I help you?" he asked politely, barely able to keep the laughter out of his voice.
There was a beat of silence; rain once again splattering against the motel room's window as Sam tried one more possibility.
Sam frowned and then directed his attention back to his brother. "I need your password," he reluctantly admitted.
"Oh, yeah..." Dean replied as if he had just realized the email Sam had been reading was in his inbox and not Sam's. "Garth emailed me, not you."
Sam glared. "Yeah. Because you're his BFF."
"Um...no," Dean corrected and cringed at the description; not even sure what "BFF" meant but damn sure he wasn't whatever it was to Garth.
Sam laughed softly at his brother's reaction before refocusing on the problem at hand. "What's your password?"
"Twins," Dean answered without hesitation and nodded suggestively.
Sam rolled his eyes but entered the word...and got the same rejection his other attempts had received.
Thunder rumbled, actually vibrating the thin walls of the motel room.
Sam scowled across the table, knowing his brother was screwing with him just because he could. "Dean..."
Dean chuckled at Sam's bitchface. "My email account is like freakin' Fort Knox, man. It's awesome."
Sam's expression didn't seem to agree.
Dean chuckled once more. "Alright..." he relented, standing up from his chair. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Samantha."
Sam said nothing as Dean crossed to his side of the table, approaching from behind and reaching around him to type his precious password.
"The secret to a strong password is to include symbols and numbers in addition to letters..." Dean informed, like he had known that before Sam had told him a few months ago.
Sam sighed, feeling Dean's chin brush his hair as his brother leaned over him to reach the laptop's keyboard.
"But you've also gotta pick a word that means something to you, so you won't forget it," Dean continued to instruct and began to type.
S – * – M – M – Y – 8 – 3
Sammy83 – only the "a" changed to a symbol for extra security.
Sam's nickname – the one that was most special when Dean used it – along with the year Sam was born.
That was Dean's password.
Sam swallowed as he blinked against the unexpected sting of tears; touched that after everything they had been through, most of Dean's life – including his brother's stupid email password – still revolved around him.
"Don't be a girl..." Dean admonished, though there was no heat to his tone; only affection in his voice and touch as he roughly shoved Sam's shoulder before walking away.
"Want another beer?" Dean asked over his shoulder, crossing to the mini fridge in the corner.
"Sure," Sam answered, still feeling a familiar warmth spread through his chest; the warmth of being reminded that although they were older and Dean didn't show it as much as he used to, his big brother still loved him.
It was a nice reminder.
And Sam hoped that Dean knew the feeling went both ways.
After all, Sam's password wasn't D_79 for nothing.