Little Do You Know

Dean's POV

     The clock read 5:47 AM. Dean had an hour-ish before he needed to be back at the motel. He decided to restock their items at the local grocery stores. He got a bunch of salt and gasoline, because those were the things they ran out of the fastest. He got some snacks for the road, including pie, which he decided to eat immediately, 'cause why not? It's pie. He refilled his Baby's gas tank, even cleaned her windows and windshield. He was trying to cover everything, every possible detail, because the only way he kept the nightmares away was to keep busy.

He stalled for a while and arrived back at the motel at around 7:15. He figured Sam would be up and ready to go, waiting on him to pack his things and leave.

After fumbling with the keys a bit, Dean opened the door to the motel room. "Sammy, I'm home," he called, shutting the door behind him. "Let's get going."

There was no answer. Dean looked up, confused. "Sam?" He called again. Again, there was no reply. Just as Dean was about to draw his gun, he turned the corner and saw Sam sprawled out on his  bed, asleep.

Dean snorted. "Trying to get in that extra five minutes, eh Sammy?"

He was about to throw a pillow at him when he noticed his brother was shaking.

"Sam?" Dean asked worriedly, rushing over. As he got closer, he saw that Sam's shaking was because he was crying. In his sleep. Sobbing. Dean was taken aback. It had been so long since this had happened.

When they were kids, whenever Sam would have nightmares, he'd wake up crying in the middle of the night. Dean would ask him what was wrong, and Sam would sit on his bed and cry until Dean got on the bed with him and hugged him until he calmed down enough to where he could talk about it.

As Sam got older, whenever he'd have nightmares, he would cry in his sleep. He never said anything, never moved from his position, he would just cry. Dean would have to wake him up and give him a hug and tell him it was going to be alright.

But that was when they were kids. Sam was like, nine the last time that had happened. But here he was. Dean's little brother, crying.

Dean didn't hesitate. He knelt down and gently grabbed Sam's shoulder. "Hey," he whispered softly. "Sammy, wake up."

Sam opened his eyes slowly, still crying. "Dean," he whispered. "I—I couldn't—"

"Shh, hey, it's okay," Dean said soothingly. "It's alright, I'm right here," he said, holding Sam's face in his hands.

Sam sat up and hugged Dean so forcefully it almost knocked him over.

"Whoa there," Dean said, trying to keep his balance. He hugged back, putting his chin in the crook of Sam's neck.

When Sam stopped shaking so violently, Dean pulled away, still holding Sam's shoulders. "Hey, it's okay," he said firmly. Sam sniffed and nodded. "What was it about?" Dean asked, looking his little brother in the eyes.

Sam sniffed again, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I couldn't save you, Dean," he said brokenly. "I couldn't do anything when that hell hound ripped you to shreds. I couldn't save you from hell, and I'm—I'm sorry..." A fresh wave of tears overcame him. Sam rocked back and forth, emotion overwhelming him.

"Hey, hey," Dean said, putting a hand under Sammy's chin to lift his head. "Listen to me. Me going to hell was not your fault." Sam squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip, his face contorted with emotion. "Okay? Hell, if it were anyone's fault it'd be mine. I was the one who sold my soul. But that doesn't matter. 'Cause I'm back now. I'm back, and I'm okay."

Sam nodded, his eyes still closed.

"Take a deep breath," Dean instructed. Sam did so. "It's gonna be okay Sammy," Dean said, hugging him again. Dean didn't let go until Sam had calmed down.

"I'm really glad you're back," Sam said tersely.

"Yeah, well so am I, believe me," Dean said. "You good?" He asked. Sam nodded. "Good. Come on then. Let's go find us a case."

"Yeah, let's do that," Sam agreed, wiping his eyes one last time. He stood up and grabbed his laptop. "I think I found one last night. A man drowned in his study up in Olympia. Locked from the inside, no water in sight prior to death."

Dean grinned. "That's good enough for me. You up for it?"

Sam smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'm up for it."

Sam fell asleep a couple hours into the drive to Olympia. Dean kept an eye on him, making sure that he was okay, and that he didn't have anymore nightmares. And with no one to talk to and a long drive ahead, all Dean could do was think.

Maybe he should tell Sam about his nightmares of hell. After all, all the guy wanted to do was help. Dean just had to open up and let him in. But no, Sam was obviously broken up about it. Dean convinced himself that if he told Sam, it would only make matters worse for the both of them, and god knew they had enough problems already. Sam didn't need any more trauma in his life then he already had. Who gave a rat's ass that Dean was having some stupid nightmares, he needed to be there for Sammy, and that's exactly what he was gonna do, no matter what.

Dean glanced over at his brother. He had sniffed, ever so slightly, and as Dean watched, a single tear traced it's way down Sam's cheek.

Just the one.