Title: Worth fighting for
Summary: What’s wrong?, his eyes seemed to ask. But didn’t he see? If Sam was in danger, if he couldn’t do anything to save him, everything was wrong.
Word count: 600 ~
Warnings: Unbetaed and fluffy! You’ve been warned!!
Author’s notes: This is for you, Amy!! Get well soon! <3
The fic is set after 2.14. Thanks to afattribble for the tattoo prompt!!
You can find it here at hugsforamy or below the cut!
Worth fighting for
Dean stared at his shirtless reflection in the mirror. The wounds he got after his fight with Meg were healing fast, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. It was the anti-possession tattoo he got two days before. His skin was still red and sensitive there.
Sam walked into the bathroom and playfully shoved Dean away to wash his face, drops of water travelling down his neck and to his chest. Man, he was relieved that Sammy came up with tattoo idea. No demon could possess him now, no demon would take Sam away from him.
He tried to ignore the voice in his head that said maybe this would be useless, that maybe Sam would turn into one, and Dean wouldn’t be able to stop it.
You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, and deep down you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you.
Meg’s voice echoed in his head. Dean hated that she was right. He was the one that should be dead, not Dad. Dad was in Hell because of him and Dean could do nothing about it – the anger, the deception were rotting inside of him, killing anything good he ever had, if there ever was something good in him in the first place.
What if he couldn’t save Sam? What if his brother turned into one of those things they’d always hunted? Dean looked at him, with his half-closed eyes and sleep mussed hair, and he couldn’t imagine how this sasquatch with puppy eyes could turn into something evil. Still, Sam had these weird powers, even if they freaked him out, and…
Shit. He’d been staring.
“Can I use the sink now or you’ll be needing it for another hour?” he asked, forcing a smile and crossing his arms, trying to be casual.
Sam gave him the look and pursed his lips.
“Sammy,” Dean mimicked him.
Sam sighed dramatically and got closer, too close, but didn’t touch him. He looked down at Dean (the damn kid was getting bigger and bigger each day) with a worried, soft expression. What’s wrong?, his eyes seemed to ask. But didn’t he see? If Sam was in danger, if he couldn’t do anything to save him, everything was wrong.
Sammy slowly raised his huge hand to caress a wound on Dean’s shoulder that Meg caused while she was possessing him. It felt like some kind of apology, which was stupid, ‘cause he hadn’t been the attacker.
His taller brother closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together in a gesture that was becoming usual lately. Dean would never admit that he sighed with relief when he felt Sam getting closer, bodies pressed together. He felt real and solid, and when they were like this, with him, he knew Sam was safe. Dean heard a ragged whisper, Dean, a hand on his back.
How could Sam be like this after all they’d been through? How could he be so careful, so sweet, so damn innocent sometimes?
Sam had something dark inside of him, they both knew that, but at the same time there was this innocence that Dean had been trying to protect all his life, like when he didn’t tell Sam about the monsters and about Dad when they were kids. He had no idea how it could still be there after all the pain, but it was. And Dean was going to save it, save him or die trying.
I’m better now, Dean wanted to say, but couldn’t, so just nodded as he put his hand carefully on Sam’s tattoo, feeling the warmth of his skin there.
Sam gave him a half-smile, his thumb caressing Dean’s neck, before whispering:
“It’s us against the world, remember?”
And Dean smiled because that moment, that smile, Sam…
Sam was worth fighting for.A/N: SORRY. SORRY FOR ALL THE OOC.