[identity profile] errant-jane.livejournal.com
For [livejournal.com profile] lazy_daze, who requested Sam/Dean, their most important memories of each other.

Dean

Dean has always maintained a certain level of willingness to sacrifice his dignity on the alter of making Sam smile, starting with making ridiculous faces that made Sam laugh as a baby. Things escalated as Sam got older, more emo and subsequently harder to please.

It earned Dean more than one detention and cost him more than one willing lay, nearly got him arrested twice. It's always worth it, because every time Dean succeeds, every time Sam smile, laughs, forgets all of the other crap for just one second, those are the moments when Dean remembers that Sam is his.

Sam

When Sam was little, he believed that Dean could do anything, despite evidence to the contrary.

The first time Dean came back from a hunt wounded, he only smiled, dismissed the wound as nothing. The first time a girl he liked shot him down, Dean shrugged and said she didn't know what she was missing.

Sam remembers every outrageous lie Dean's ever told, the comfort and safety offered in every promise Dean's ever made him. Like the words themselves are protection because Dean will be invincible if Sam needs it.

Part of Sam still believes that Dean can do anything.


[identity profile] errant-jane.livejournal.com
"Hey, Sam," Dean says, apropos of nothing. "Your time at Stanford, do you think— Was it worth it?" He asks with genuine curiosity, no trace of anger.

Sam supposes his more recent transgressions overshadow going off to college. "I was happy there. It felt normal." Safe. "But ultimately, no. It wasn't worth Jess dying." Wasn't worth turning his back on his family.

"But she loved you," Dean says.

"Yeah." Sam nods. "She did."

Dean looks down, rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah," he says, mostly to himself. "What was that like?"

Sam has no idea how to answer that.


[identity profile] errant-jane.livejournal.com
Geek in the Pink

"What?" Dean asks when Sam starts laughing.

"Your shirt!"

"What about it?"

Sam shakes his head. "It's pink."

"So?" When Sam continues to laugh, Dean frowns. "I'll have you know that it takes a confident man to pull this off."

Sam nods. "You can pull it off. Any time now."

"Everyone's a comedian." Dean rolls his eyes and pulls on his jacket.

"For future reference, when you do laundry, it's a good idea to wash your reds separately from your whites," Sam offers.

"Gee, thanks, Martha."

Sam shrugs. "I'm just saying."

"I'm just saying," Dean mimics. "I know that." Now.
[identity profile] errant-jane.livejournal.com
So Let Go

Find the source of power, the grave, the bones, burn it all and salt the earth and that'll get rid of almost every thing.

The day Sam leaves, Dean takes out the only picture he has of the two of them. Sam's not smiling.

Dean takes his lighter out of his pocket and holds the flame to the edge of the picture—watches it curl. Half of Sam's leg disappears before Dean loses his nerve and blows it out.

He isn't college-bound, but Dean is smart enough to know that flames and salt won't be enough to exorcise this demon.

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June 2012

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