Where’s Dean?

emptywithout:

This is all I had in me tonight guys. I’m just too drained to do much more…

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Dean’s fist swung hard and connected with Sam’s jaw. He went
down, hard.

Sam’s hand went up automatically in self-defense.

But Dean had pummeled into him until his eyes were bloodied,
his cheek split open, his breath coming in sharp gasps. But Sam had refused to
fight back. He never raised a hand to his older brother as Dean cracked his
jaw, sending sparks to the corners of his eyes.

“Dean,” he said. It was simple, it was quiet.  It wasn’t enough.

“Dean, this isn’t you. Please.” He tried again.

Dean smiled. “Oh Sammy, I have to disagree.” He leaned in
close to his brother, until Sam could feel his breath He gently caressed his
brother’s cheek, running his thumb across the broken skin. “This is the most me
I have ever been.”

Sam was near losing consciousness. He wouldn’t be able to
take much more of this beating.

Which is why he welcomed the final punch that sent him into
darkness.

_____

The bruising on his cheek took over a week to heal. The deep
purples and blues had faded into greens and yellows. By the time Cas returned, the
cut had healed into a nice thin scar running just below his eye.

When Cas saw him on the couch, he ran over to him, nearly
tripping on his way.

“Sam! What happened? Where’s Dean?” Sam jumped when Cas’
thumb touched his cheek, right where Dean had.

“It’s a long story Cas,” said Sam, holding his ribs and
grimacing as he sat up. “I’m glad you’re home.”

---

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