(no subject)

[weary_head]

Dean sat where Angua had deposited him, staring after Angua's back as she went to rummage for pie ingredients. Sam was still at the bar, still hunched over his glass, shoulders tight and too long hair falling over his ears and into his eyes.

It made him look younger than he was, younger then the new lines around his eyes and mouth betrayed, and Dean's heart twisted a little tighter in his chest.

Sam would be okay here. Somehow, Dean could make that happen, and if not Dean than Jess or Dad or Twerp or any combination of people left on the island that loved him. The only person in the way of that was Sam himself, but Dean would find a way around that, too.

He just had to find a way around whatever it was that stood between them, first.

Sam had arrived on the island spitting words like apocalypse and Lucifer from his mouth, and those scared Dean, but not nearly as much as the look in Sam's eyes when he said them.

Dean sighed, tucking himself further into the booth, watching with an anxiousness barely contained while those around Sam came and went. Occasionally he looked away, out into the jungle beyond the Winchester, to his hands and the small but growing marks on his palms his own fingernails had left behind, but always Dean's focus shifted back to Sam at the bar.

"Fuck," he murmured, twitching helplessly as the long line of uncertain questions restarted themselves in his head. What the hell happened to us?

Comments

[little_moons]

As soon as I can get away, when everybody has their drinks and everybody's preoccupied with questions and worries and excitement and all that shit, I slip away, bottle and two glasses in hand. I slide into the booth across from him, wordlessly pouring him a drink whether he wants it or not.

I'm quiet for a long time, then I ask, "You okay?" It just might be the stupidest question ever.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

It wasn't the first time they'd sat grim faced across from one another, drinks on the table between them. Knowing the island and the particular set of miseries it had to offer, it probably wouldn't be the last time, but Dean still wished they were here under different, lighter circumstances. It seemed like forever ago that he'd sat at the bar and listened to Neil give him shit about Angua and their freaking sex toys.

"Yeah," he said finally. "I'm okay. It's just..." He shook his head. "Not how I thought it'd be."

It wasn't bad. Having Sam back would never be bad, but Dean had thought it'd be easier. Happier. It went against every second of their family's history, but it still hadn't occurred to Dean that their reunion would be anything but a joy and a relief.

[little_moons]

I know that feeling. I know it so fucking well, in a lot of ways it never leaves. I think about it, about her, about how I hoped and wished and dreamed for over a year, and then when Wendy Peterson finally showed up, we just weren't the same anymore. She's not my sister, but she was as close to that as I've ever had. Closer. We were soulmates. Were being the operative word here. She came here, took one look at me and just knew I wasn't the same person she loved.

I don't say as much, though. None of that shit's what he needs to hear.

"He looks different," I murmur, and it's true, but it's not really what I mean. There's something inherently different about him, even I can see it. "How much time you think there was? Between you two gettin' here, I mean."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean couldn't give it to Neil in months, but he could name some pretty significant landmarks. "I had three months left when I showed up here." He put his lips to the glass, watching Sam over the top of it as he spoke. "Long enough for him to watch those run out. Long to enough to keep going without me, and for Cas to bring me back. After that I don't know."

Dean took a long drink and let the glass fall back to the table with a dull thunk. "Long enough for the world to go to shit."

[little_moons]

"Doesn't take all that long for that to happen," I murmur, pouring a glass for myself, just to have something to do. The idea of him going to hell, even if it wasn't permanent, isn't something I like thinking about too often.

"You talk to Jess?"

[broken_brushes]

As a general rule, I didn't spend that much time at the Winchester. It was a great place, don't get me wrong: Neil had done a wonderful job with it. I just didn't drink much, didn't find much time to sit around randomly shooting the shit, and didn't have anybody to take me to dinner. Still, I popped in from time to time, usually to see if Dean or Jess were around, or just to be friendly; that day, I thought maybe I'd talk to Neil about his cake, try to get a better idea of what he wanted.

I spotted Dean before I'd even walked in the door, and could tell immediately that something wasn't right. Even from a distance I could tell he had that vaguely pinched look to his face he got when something was genuinely worrying him, and I was already frowning by the time I crossed the threshold into the bar.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean's gaze had slid to her when she walked in, tracking the movement before he registered who it was that'd just come into the bar.

Jesus.

Dean was out of the booth before he'd really even made the decision to move. Everything had happened so quickly since Sam's arrival, Dean's focus on him so complete that it hadn't yet occurred to him that he should be easing those closest to Sam into his return.

"Shari," he said, loud enough to be sure that her attention was only on him and not the bar. He took her arm, trusting her to trust him, and walked her out the door. "Hold on a sec."

[broken_brushes]

Well, if I hadn't been worried before, I sure was now. There wasn't any reason for me to resist, so I allowed Dean to lead me back outside, but my mouth was open as soon as we were out of the doorway.

"Tell me what is wrong right now," I insisted, tone broaching no argument. I knew him: He might try to waffle, depending upon what it was, and my mind was racing. Surely nothing had happened to Angua or John or Bobby; Dean wouldn't have been brooding in a bar were that the case.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

He'd been expecting that, enough so that Dean was just glad they'd made it out the door before she went off.

"It's not...wrong," he said, holding up both hands to show her he was getting there. "It's Sam. He's back."

[broken_brushes]

For a few seconds there at first, I had the totally irrational thought that Jimmy had disappeared. It was stupid: Why would Dean know that before I did? But my fingers had already begun to tremble by the time he spit it out.

I faltered, mouth open. "What?" I exhaled.

[babyviper.livejournal.com]

Something that O-Ren remembered from her time with Dr. Sweets was that it was better to stare at people from inside where they could see you do it than say, up in a tree where they couldn't. Apparently, it was less creepy in the long run. She didn't really understand it, but when trying to make an impression, she was as willing to take advice on her social skills as her sword skills.

She finally moved from the doorway to where she saw Dean sitting, to talk to him instead. There was a nervous, skittish feeling in her stomach that she hated. She slid into the other side of the booth.

"Fuck what?"

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean's mouth twitched, as much a result of being stuck too long in the same grim line as for O-Ren's literalism. "My luck, I guess," he said, feeling stupid even as he said it. At least he had Sam back at all.

"You gonna say hi to him?"

[babyviper.livejournal.com]

"I have to figure out how to do that," O-Ren said. "It's important. You only get one first impression, unless you're here, where you might get two, but that's not a good thing." She rubbed her hands on her skirt. They were getting clammy.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Don't overthink it," said Dean, even though he knew she would anyway. "I already told him about you, and you're a good kid." He smiled at her over the table. "Don't worry about the rest. He's had the same hard life as me, he'll get it."

[babyviper.livejournal.com]

She tried putting her hands on the table, hoping they wouldn't leave any sweat there. It was ridiculous. She couldn't remember sweating when she'd offed Bill, so why should this be any different? There wasn't even the added pressure of making a kill.

"Nobody trained me for this," she sighed. "And he didn't like me before."

[dumbassbastards.livejournal.com]

Rollie has a habit of talking to Dean whenever he runs into him, sometimes just small talk, sometimes talking shop for a while, but after stopping in to the Winchester to see if he can pick up some hot food for the kidlet for dinner and spotting Dean there, he thinks this conversation is going to be neither of those things.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted go over a few procedures tonight," he says while he's waiting for his takeout, "but you look like you've got other things on your mind."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Dean exhaled. It was crazy how quickly things could change. Earlier today he'd been worrying over his latest learning assignment, now he was knee deep in trying to figure out how to hold Sam's head above water.

"My brother's back."

[dumbassbastards.livejournal.com]

Words Rollie maybe should have been expecting at some point, but they still come as a surprise.

"Well, shit," he says, and while he's never personally experienced the hope-elation-despair of having a loved one return changed, he can imagine it. "Clinic's there if you need it, but don't feel like you have to. Take whatever time you need."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"I think I might..." Dean spread his hands, not sure how much Rollie wanted or even needed to know. "Stick close to him for a while. I don't think he's doing so good with it all."

[dumbassbastards.livejournal.com]

"The island's a kick in the nuts at the best of times," says Rollie, and he knows just enough about Dean's life before the island to know it wasn't exactly the best of times. "Whatever you need. He come from the same time as you?"

[heartless-sob.livejournal.com]

Where Sam was, of course Dean was not far.

"Your brother is a prick," Castiel growled as he slid into the booth next to Dean. He took the bottle from Dean's hand to have a drink of his own and grimaced, forgetting how bitter it tasted.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean was only just getting comfortable again, having sheparded Shari inside and towards Sam, and he looked up, lips parted in confusion before they settled into a frown.

"Yeah, well, he's..." he started slowly, realizing he didn't have much to counter that. Sam was intense right now, but so was the island, and so was the place that he'd come from. Maybe he could be a prick if he wanted to be.

"He's had a tough day."

[heartless-sob.livejournal.com]

That was an understatement, but it still didn't negate the desire to punch Sam in the face. Such thoughts, such feelings unsettled Castiel, and he tried to calm his nerves with the drink. It seemed to work for everyone else.

"What did he tell you?" Castiel asked. He had to know.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean looked down, nerves rolling in his stomach so hard that for a moment he thought he might be sick. He sucked down a breath, thinking that he'd almost welcome the distraction if he thought it'd get him out of this conversation.

His brother had started the apocalypse. That wouldn't sit well with Cas any way Dean spun it, and Sam had had a hard enough day already. Looking at Castiel's thunderous face now, though, Dean realized he was probably too late to keep it secret.

"That things have gone to shit back home," he said, watching him. "What'd he tell you?" He doubted it was anymore than Sam had told him, but maybe he didn't know his brother so well anymore.

The thought spun his stomach in another sickening turn.

[heartless-sob.livejournal.com]

Had that been it? The look on Dean's face said no, but who knew what factors were at play, what he was feeling. Things had always seemed tremulous between Dean and Sam, from what Castiel had seen. It seemed like now was no different.

"About the apocalypse," Castiel said, taking another long drink. "He freed my brother."