Why Not Me?

Chapter 7 Both POV

Dean threw the keys to Sam after loading their bags in the trunk. "You're driving, Sammy."

Sam only glared at Dean, as if asking him if he was dying. "Don't be ridiculous. I let you drive all the time."

Sam made his way to the driver's side door. "Dean, you once drove one hundred miles with a broken elbow. You nearly blacked out from the pain before pulling over. You lectured me about riding the brakes in your sleep."

Dean scoffed as he closed the door behind him. "Okay, now you're just being dramatic. I don't talk in my sleep."

Sam stopped with the keys halfway to the ignition and turned to Dean. "You really believe that, don't you?"

Dean drew his eyebrows together. "Yes?"

Sam let out a breathy sound that could only be described as a sarcastic non-laugh. "I thought you knew. You've talked in your sleep since you were like twelve. Not all the time, but when you're really stressed or..." Sam paused to make a disgusted face. "Really, um, happy. If you know what I mean."

"Alright, you've made your point."

"I mean, just last night for example..."

Dean's head snapped in the direction of Sam. He dramatically pointed his index finger at his brother. "Don't you say it."

"Alright, alright. I won't tell you how you moaned his name in your sleep." Sam said, fighting back a smile.

"I didn't even dream about Cas last night. Why would I–uh–you know, do that." Dean deflated, leaning back against the passenger seat.

"Before you blast your music and sulk, just hear me out okay? I know you don't like to talk about stuff like this, so just listen." Sam paused waiting for Dean's confirmation.

Dean didn't say anything, he only nodded letting Sam know he was listening.

"You have a shot at something real here, Dean. I think you and Cas can be really happy. But the biggest problem between you two has always been communication. Just, try okay? I know you hate talking, but when things get shitty you've got to try."

Dean felt tense all over. His muscles were coiled tight as if ready to strike out at something. He knew Sam was just looking out for him, and for Cas. If he was going to have to start talking to people, he figured he could use some practice.

"You don't think I know that, Sam? I don't deserve Cas. He's a fucking angel, and I'm just a grunt who makes more bad decisions than good. I don't deserve him, but I'm not going to do anything to fuck this up. I mean, not on purpose anyway. If he's dumb enough to want to be with me, I'm going to prove that I'm worthy of that. Of him."

Sam's posture was rigid and he gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turned white. Dean started to get nervous, wondering if he said something wrong. He somehow fucked up while declaring he didn't want to fuck up.

"Will you say something?" Dean demanded.

Sam pulled over to the shoulder of the country road they were on. Dean knew this move. He and Sam have pulled over on the side of the road to fight dozens of times, but all those times––unlike now––he knew what he said to piss Sam off. It was usually intentional .

"Get out," Sam said climbing out of the driver's side door.

Dean got out, bracing himself for the first blow as Sam charged toward him. Before he knew it, Dean was wrapped in a tight hug. Sam resting his head on his shoulder like he used to do when he was a kid. He was certain he heard a sniffle.

Finally, he wrapped his arms around Sam, squeezing him. "Okay. It's alright, you dramatic son of a bitch."

Sam laughed as he pulled away. Nothing else needed to be said. The brother stared at each other for a moment. Sam nodded once and stood up straight before walking back to the car.