edenbound | SPN: You Don't Know How Much I Worry

Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: Incest
Rating: G
Summary: Sam looks after Dean for once. For feywood, because I love her.
Note: Only seen S1 at this point.

Even at fifteen, Sam looms like a goddamn beanstalk. Dean stares blearily up at him and tries to remember how speech goes. "Wha?" he manages.

"Goddamnit, Dean, you scared me," he says, and plops down on the bed. "Don't you remember what happened?"

"Went out on a hunt?" Dean hazards, now he's found his vocal cords. Actually, he doesn't remember what happened, but that'll probably worry Sam more, and a hunt is a good guess, since that's pretty much the only risky thing he does. It's not like he does rock climbing or whatever for a hobby -- although one of these days Dad's going to decide it's a valuable skill.

"Obviously," Sam says, rolling his eyes, clearly completely not taken in by Dean's impression of perfect recall. Well, he tried.

"Okay, what happened?" he asks, since he's tired of trying to look like his memory is in perfect working order. He shifts a little and then nearly blacks out, because there's a white hot pain lancing through his side. He gasps and closes his eyes and it's not tears, it's just his eyes watering.

"Hey, don't move!" Sam says, belatedly, reaching to press his shoulders down into the bed. A bit too hard, really, fingers digging into bruises all over him.

"Ow," he says, feelingly.

"Obviously you don't remember anything. Well, um. You and Dad went on a hunt after a shapeshifter, remember? And it kind of ripped your side open pretty early on."

"Did Dad kill it?"

"Shit, Dean, you should worry about yourself, not the goddamn hunt!" Sam says, frowning. "Of course not. Dad brought you back here right away. We're going out tonight to get it."

"We?"

"Me and Dad, obviously," Sam says, with another of his expressive rolls of his eyes. "But for now, I'm supposed to be looking after you."

"I don't need looking after."

"Yeah, right. Face it, if you were in hospital they'd be tying you down to stop you moving."

"I'm surprised you haven't."

"I didn't think of it in time," Sam says, looking entirely serious. "Really, Dean. You're staying in bed until me and Dad are both happy that you're okay. So, um, anything you need, ask me."

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

An exaggerated sigh. "Dean, for one thing, it's Sunday. And for another, why the hell would I go to school when you're hurt this bad? Dad isn't going to stay and look after you, and I don't give a shit what you say -- you can't look after yourself."

Dean lies quiet for a minute, then, "You were really worried."

"Of course I was!"

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Sam says, with a return of that serious frown. "It was Dad's. He shouldn't have gone charging in like that. Just -- Dean, don't follow him blindly, for God's sake. The man isn't perfect."

"Let's not get into -- "

"Just be more careful," Sam says, almost desperately, and Dean, looking up at him, is silenced. "Seriously, man. You scared me half to death," he says, looking down at Dean, hands on his shoulders again, gripping like he has to make sure he's still there. He leans down, his movements suddenly jerking, and for a moment his mouth covers Dean's. "Seriously. Promise."

"I promise," Dean says, from what feels like a long way away, through the haze of oh god, my little brother kissed me. "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you just kiss me?"

For a moment, Sam looks kind of like a rabbit in a trap. Then he catches the softness in Dean's eyes, the amused curve of his mouth, and he smiles hesitantly. "Nah, man. You hallucinated it."

"Thought so," Dean says, and he closes his eyes, still smiling. "I guess I'll be hallucinating more when I'm not supposed to be staying in bed and keeping real still."

"Strange medical condition, that," Sam says, on the edge of laughing, and stupidly close to tears of relief. "Get some rest, Dean."