tarotgal

Summary: Scenes of hurt/comfort from before
Sam figures about about Dean's care-giving kink...
and scenes set afterward.
Pairing: Dean/Sam | Rating: Various (G through NC-17)

Part 25. An After

It’s so quiet in the motel room they can hear the couple fighting two doors down the row; the voices are muffled, so they can’t make out any specific words, but fighting is hard to miss. The Winchesters aren’t fighting. Or discussing. Or even hunting, for a change. Sam’s sick, so Dean called a halt to all their travel plans. They’re just lying in bed, in the middle of the afternoon, indulging in laziness and Nyquil.

“hah… hah-EHSHhh!”

“Bless you.”

Sam lies on his back, every pillow in the motel room shoved beneath his head and shoulders. On his right are tissues—some used and balled up, most still in a fat tissue box. On his left is Dean, lying close, on his side. There’s no sheet or blanket over them; Dean’s like a space heater, warm enough for the both of them.

“herCHISHHHhhhhh!”

“Bless you again.”

Dean smiles. He’s got his head on Sam’s chest, so it rises and falls with every in and out. He listens to Sam’s breathing. There’s a slight, congested rattle hidden in each breath. There’s slow, steady breathing through Sam’s mouth only, his nose all stuffed up with cold. And there’s the comfort of knowing just when Sam’s about to sneeze.

Dean can hear one coming on, like the beginning of an echo instead of the end of it. There’s an emptiness, a break, a hitch, a gasp. Even the fast one’s come with some sort of notice when your ear is pressed against Sammy’s chest. Sometimes he helps Sam get to the tissues, handing them over or even holding them up for Sam to sneeze into. Sometimes he just lies there, listening to the roar of the sneeze and the rush of air. Sometimes Sam gets a tissue on his own. And sometimes he sneezes freely, snapping forward and slightly to the side so Dean hardly ever feels the spray. But every time, Dean blesses his brother.

And every time Sam thanks him. It’s a comfortable routine. Comfortable, calm, and relaxing. Exactly what Sam needs, which is the best thing for Dean as well.

“hah… hah-KITChhhh! Hefkjshhhhhh!”

“Bless you.”

Dean rubs his hand back and forth over Sam’s stomach, which he doesn’t need to do because it doesn’t hurt but it does make Sam smile back. They can stay like this all day. They can stay like this until Sam’s cold is gone.

“hey-ehhh… ehhhHshuhhh!”

“Bless you.”

He’d never tell Sam, because it sounds kind of cruel, but Dean secretly hopes it will take a long time for this cold to go away. He wouldn’t mind if they stayed like this forever.

“eh… ehhhhh… ehhh-HIFShihhhhh!”

“Bless you, Sammy.”

Sam keeps his eyes closed after the sneeze. He feels sleepy again—probably it’s the most recent dose of medicine—but he doesn’t want to sleep, doesn’t want to miss Dean’s hand stroking comfortingly. He doesn’t want to miss the weight of Dean’s head on his chest or the heavy warmth of Dean’s body against his. He’d never tell Dean, because he doesn’t want Dean to feel like he’s doing a bad job with the caregiving, but Sam secretly hopes it will take a long time for this cold to go away.