Remember This

Part 1

The first time Sam woke up to find Dean watching him, he didn't give it too much thought. Their beds were side by side and he had rolled in his sleep so that he had ended up facing his brother. Dean was awake. End of story. In fact, Sam was kind of glad to see his brother's eyes open, since he had just had a nightmare. Not one of those tossing-and-turning-before-jolting-awake-with-a-scream nightmares, but a dark, shapeless dream that had woken him up without much fuss. Regardless, it had left him with a clenching uneasiness in his stomach.

"Hey," Sam muttered sleepily.

He couldn't quite make out Dean's expression in the dim light, but he did see his brother's lips tug up to draw a little smile. As if by magic, the memory of Sam's dream faded away.

Dean probably asked him if he was okay, and he must have answered back. But as the pull of sleep grew imperious again, the conversation became one of those midnight talks that took place somewhere in between vigil and sleep. Sam knew, in a vague sort of way, that in the morning he would doubt whether the conversation had really taken place at all.

It happened again a couple of times that week and, after that, it kept happening through the following month. Sam woke up, in a motel bed or in the passenger's seat of the Impala, and Dean's eyes were on him. Most times, his older brother simply looked away the second Sam blinked himself awake. Other times, their eyes briefly locked before Dean averted his. But always, always, Sam would glimpse something flickering in Dean's eyes, an emotion as unidentifiable as it was strong but which barely lasted a second before Dean's mask was firmly back in place.

Sam wanted to ask Dean what was going on, but the older hunter just brushed the questions off with long-practiced ease. Sam wasn't sure whether Dean's behaviour bothered him, weirded him out or just made him curious.

Then, he started to notice that Dean looked exhausted all day. Dark circles appeared under his eyes, and he needed three times more coffee to keep functioning. All curiosity, disturbance or awkwardness was automatically pushed aside and Sam became downright concerned. The fact was that as far as he knew, Dean happened to be awake whenever he was asleep. But if he was also awake when Sam was awake, ―aside from the occasional cat naps in the passenger seat when Sam was at the wheel― when did Dean actually sleep?

That is if he slept at all?

That night when they turned in after a long day on the road, Sam fought the pull of sleep to focus instead on his brother's breathing pattern. At the same time, he tried to keep his own breathing as even as possible in order to convince Dean he was asleep. A couple of hours later, Dean was still awake, his gaze boring holes into Sam's back. The younger hunter decided he had had enough. He turned around in the bed and faced Dean, who blinked in surprise and flinched momentarily.

And there it was again, that damn something shining behind his eyes and which Sam seemed unable to grasp.

"Why do you keep doing this?" Sam asked before Dean had a chance to get on guard.

"What do you mean this?" Dean retorted.

"This staring, man. What's that about?"

"Geez, sorry princess. I promise I won't look in your direction ever again!"

Annoyed as usual by Dean's exasperating, defensive front, Sam huffed and made a conscious effort not to be deterred by it. He had learned through experience that the more of an ass Dean was, the worse whatever he was bottling up inside was.

"Are you having nightmares?" Sam inquired in a softer tone.

All things considered it would be natural for Dean to be tormented by bad dreams after what had happened in the last month, Sam thought. His disappearance and death, the deal, the fight against the yellow eyed demon, seeing their father again. The countdown—