What Doesn't Kill You

The Notebook

After talking with Sam about what had been happening over the years, Dean decided he needed to call someone more experienced and get some help. He called a local clinic and set up an appointment for their earliest availability. Convincing Sam they needed to talk to someone about what happened and make sure he was okay physically, that was a whole other ball game.

"I said I don't want to go, Dean," Sam said before slamming the bathroom door in his brother's face.

"Come on, Sammy. You got to be checked out, man. Passing out isn't something that just happens for no reason." Dean leaned an arm against the door and rested his forehead on his arm. "I know it's scary. But I promise, I'll be there the whole time, okay?"

"I said no."

"I'm just trying to help you, Sam. You can't just pretend your whole life like nothing's wrong and nothing happened. You got to deal."

Sam yanked the door open, catching Dean by surprise causing him to fall forward almost into his brother's arms. They stood there for a moment looking into each other's eyes, inches away.

"What if I don't want to deal?" Sam asked quietly.

"Tough shit," Dean said with a smirk on his lips, only being partly sarcastic. Sam huffed a short laugh before he could stop himself and looked down at their feet. "Hey," Dean said as he gently tilted Sam's head up with a finger under his chin. "You can do this. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for. You're stronger. And even if you're not, I'll be there to pick your ass up off the floor if you fall. Got it?"

Sam nodded in response causing Dean's hand to slide up from where it was at his chin to his cheek, but he didn't try to move his hand away. Sam felt frozen in place, not sure what was happening, Dean's stare keeping him from moving.

"Uh, D-Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean asked, sounding almost dazed.

"Y-you okay?"

Sam's nervousness seemed to snap Dean out of his trance, his eyes finally breaking away from Sam's. "Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine. Sorry. I was just thinking..."

"About?"

"Your notebook."

Sam internally started screaming. Because that's what one does when one's brother finds out about one's crush on said brother and wants to talk about it. It's valid screaming.

He really couldn't say anything in response to that, but he did his best not to look as terrified as he was. Apparently, he didn't do a great job of it because Dean put a hand against Sam's cheek again trying to calm him down.

"Hey, I'm not mad, Sam. Stop freaking' out. It's okay."

"You don't have to say that just to make me feel better, Dean. I'm not a baby."

"I know you're not," Dean said firmly. "But I also know you, and I know what your freaking out face looks like. Even when you try to hide it." He smiled down at his brother amused.

"Well, that's not really fair," Sam huffed.

"Welcome to the real world, Sammy," Dean chuckled and pulled him into a hug. "I do think we need to talk about what was in that notebook. And I'm not talking about the stuff involving dad."

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "I figured."

"Did you mean what you wrote in there?" Dean pulled back from their hug and looked at Sam searching his face for any reaction. "I mean, I barely read any of it, but what I did read seemed pretty... serious."

Sam looked down at the floor and nodded his head.

"Well, shit. That's... crazy." Sam felt his heart drop. "I mean, I never would've thought - huh. I, uh - I know how you feel."

Sam's head shot up at that, not trying to show the shock on his face, but it was quickly replaced with irritation. "What, you know how it feels to be in love with your brother and feeling like a freak, trying to bury your feelings every fucking day of your life?" Sam asked heatedly, turning away from Dean.

There was a beat of silence until Dean practically whispered, "Yeah, actually."

Sam couldn't move. He was basically cemented to the floor. He couldn't look at his brother when he asked, "Really?" just as quietly.

"Really." Dean said it more confidently this time.

Sam turned back around slowly, only moving to all but tackle Dean in a tight hug when he saw his small smile.

"Sammy," Dean whispered in his ear.

"Yeah?"

"I don't know if... I don't think we should -"

"What? But you said -" Sam pulled away from their hug to look at Dean, confused.

"I know. And I wasn't lying. I just don't think anything should happen." Sam's expression dropped to one of devastation (and no, that is not a dramatic way to describe it). Dean continued, trying to reassure him. "I'm not saying nothing can ever happen. I'm just saying right now, I don't think it's a good idea. I mean, you just got away from dad, and I'm pretty sure your arm is broken, man. I'm not adding anymore complicated shit to your plate right now. Okay?"

It took Sam a few seconds to think it over, but he eventually nodded, appreciating his brother's concern. He found himself playing with one of the buttons on Dean's shirt nervously, continuing to stare at it instead of Dean.

Dean lifted Sam's chin with a finger to face him. "Hey."

"Hey," Sam smiled sheepishly at his brother's grin.

"I love you."