onlytobenormal | de-aged [For samefivealbums]

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de-aged [For samefivealbums]

When Sam woke, it was in a bed that wasn't his own and without his dad or brother in sight... needless to say, there was a lot of freaking out. He fumbled out of bed and went looking through the apartment he was in... only to find a dog and not much else. Nothing that would tell him where he was anyway or where Dad or Dean was, when they'd be back.

He even got desperate enough to grab the phone and try their numbers... only to find them no longer in use which was just... even weirder. Now he was even more worried.

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"Just the stuff between us? No, not really. It's... we both know it's not normal or whatever, but we're both happy. If I thought for a second that you were unhappy with it, I'd end it right there, but..." He trailed off and shrugged. Every out he'd tried to give Sam had been refused. Sam didn't seem to want this to end any more than Dean did.

"Hm..." He nodded at that answer, not really sure what to say any more than he was earlier. He did scoot a little closer though, relaxing a little bit. "Good night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy." Since his brother moved closer, Dean figured he hadn't completely alienated him yet. He reached up and brushed Sam's hair back softly. His hand kept stroking Sam's hair softly, hopefully helping him settle in to sleep.

Sam let out a soft sigh at the hand through his hair, relaxing under the soothing gesture. He pressed in closer in response. There was so much running through his mind that he hadn't thought it would be possible to fall asleep, but eventually he did.

Dean stayed there a while stroking Sam's hair soothingly and watching him sleep. He seemed calm and relaxed, at least for now. After he was sure Sam was okay, Dean pulled his hand back and softly called Ozzy over. He left the puppy snuggled up to his brother and got up, heading into the living room to have a drink... or four... and sleep on the couch.

Sam woke up pretty disoriented. It was like he'd been asleep way too long. Maybe kind of like one hell of a hangover, but he didn't remember drinking at all the night before. Not beyond the usual beer or two. He rubbed a hand over his face and sat up, checking the time. "Dean? Hey..."

Didn't know if he'd be at work yet or not. Hopefully there was coffee made either way.

Ozzy was still in the bed with him, but that wasn't too odd. Sometimes the pup sneaked up there after Dean left for work, if Sam was still asleep. He gave him a quick pet and called him to follow him into the kitchen.

Dean was sacked out on the couch. He laid face down with one arm over his head and the other flung out off the side of the couch. That hand was still wrapped loosely around an almost empty bottle of whiskey. One drink had turned into four, and into six or seven... he'd lost track. He hadn't meant to and he was going to kick his own ass for it when he woke up, but right now he was snoring softly. Dead to the world.

Okay, so Ozzy in bed with him could be no big deal. The pup liked to sneak in when there was enough room. Dean falling asleep on the couch, with a bottle of Jack for company was a sight he hadn't seen in awhile. It didn't mean anything good for the most part. Going over to the couch, he reached down for the bottle and shook Dean lightly.

"Hey, man, wake up."

"Ugh?" Dean woke slow and sluggish. His head was pounding and his mouth tasted like dirty socks. Jesus fuck. What the hell had he done last night?

Then he remembered. Then he wanted to puke. Before his stomach turned completely, his brain registered the sound of Sam's voice. His Sam. "Sammy?"

"Yeah..." He tilted his head, looking down at Dean. "What's going on here, dude?"

Dean sat up dizzily and stared at Sam for a few long minutes. It was his Sam. Dean was hit by twin measures of sadness and relief. He was going to miss little Sam, but after last night, he wasn't sure how he'd have looked the kid in the eye again.

This Sam, on the other hand, looked confused. "You don't remember?"

"I..." He trailed off, trying to think back. It wasn't very clear though and made his head ache even worse trying to think about it right now. "It's not too clear," he finally admitted. No reason to lie, especially if he missed something important.

"Did I do something?" He didn't remember any fights with Dean either. He had that creepy feeling that he was missing some time though.

"You? No, you didn't do anything. It's complicated..." God, was it ever complicated. He rubbed his face with both hands and tried to decide what to say or do. Difficult to do with his head pounding like it was. Fuck. "I'm gonna grab a shower. Do me a favor and call my bar. Tell 'em I caught your bug and I'm gonna stay home today?"

He pushed himself to his feet and wobbled a little. "Better call yours, too, and let them know you're feeling better. You probably should go in for a few hours today. Told 'em you had strep throat."

"Dean?" Okay, now he was worried. Strep throat, huh? Okay, so he was missing some time. He needed- God, he needed a minute to think, try to figure it out. "Yeah, okay. I'll do that, Dean."

He reached out to touch Dean's shoulder when he got up to go to the bathroom, just-- to touch and see if he could or comfort. Something. Sam wasn't feeling very comfortable here... he really didn't ever feel all that safe anymore, even with all the protection they put on their apartment, even with everything else they did to stay safe after that demon incident. Stuff like this could still happen, apparently.

He shrugged it off for now though. Better to let Dean deal with his hangover and get a call into both their jobs. He didn't exactly feel like going in today though... damn, but better to not miss too much work.

It was probably good Sam didn't remember. Even thought Dean would probably end up telling him the whole truth anyway, it would be easier on him if he didn't remember the exact feeling, probably. Hopefully. Ugh, Dean didn't want to think about it.

And since he was expecting it, he didn't flinch or shrug out of the hand on his shoulder, even though he wanted to. Didn't want Sam to think he'd done something wrong, particularly when the lion's share of the blame was pretty squarely on Dean. He gave his brother a crooked smile. "Thanks. Be out in a few."

Dean headed into the bathroom and started the water to let it heat up while he stripped. He smelled like a liquor store and felt like nine miles of bad road. Once he was under the water, he tipped his forehead against the wall of the shower and let the water beat down on him a while. God, he didn't want to have the conversation that was coming.

He put in a call to Dean's work and let them know he was sick and he'd be staying in and called to his own job--after checking what day it was and his schedule. Thankfully, he didn't have to come in until the afternoon... that gave him some time to get his bearings, maybe see if Dean was alright.

For now, he got on making some coffee and breakfast. Didn't know if Dean was hungry, but it gave him something to do. Sitting around worrying and trying to come up with conclusions on his own didn't help. A little started to clear up in his head anyway...

He could remember coming back home a couple days ago, feeling-- off. Remembered going to bed for a nap. He could even remember waking up, hazily and confused. He couldn't remember more beyond that though. It was all foggy and driving him crazy since, apparently, something had fucked with Dean. Possibly him.

Dean spent as much time in the shower as he could without being too suspicious. Then he forced himself to get out and dry off. He brushed his teeth and hair, got dressed, and tried to feel human as he wandered back out into the kitchen in search of Sam.

"Get a hold of them?"

"Yeah. I don't have to go in until later though." He looked over at Dean, not entirely sure how to act. It'd help if he knew what the problem was and if he should be apologizing even if Dean insisted he hadn't done anything.

"Got bacon and eggs on... bet you've got one hell of a hangover, huh?" And a greasy breakfast was usually the first thing Dean went for besides coffee.

It was a good thing Sam didn't try to apologize. Dean wouldn't have been able to handle that. Not with as guilty as he was feeling right now. Guilty, sick, and wrong. He nodded at the question and meandered over to the coffee pot to get it going. "Yeah, thanks."

He fiddled with the machine to start it brewing and then leaned his forehead against the cabinet above it, eyes closed. "Feel like there's a marching band going in my head. You feel okay?"

"Well, nearly a bottle of whiskey will do that to you, dude." He tried for a smile, starting to plate their food... and Dean should be glad! He cooked without burning anything... he was learning.

"I'm alright... my head kinda hurts still." He paused as he went to set the table. "So, you want to talk about what's going on?"

Dean was glad! Sam was getting better and the food did look good. Good thing, too. He wasn't sure his stomach could handle burnt bacon this morning.

Did he want to talk? No way, but he knew if he didn't, Sam would just assume the worst. Another demon attack or something. Dean sighed and shrugged a little. "You ran into another curse somewhere. When I left for work, you were fine. When I came home..."

Another shrug. "You were eleven? Maybe twelve years old?"

"What-" He turned to give Dean a look, pulling a face. Explained why he remembered waking up confused, he guessed... He shifted his weight a little bit, taking a moment to let that sink in.

"Babysitting me couldn't have been that horrible." Well, not entirely true. It could have been terrible, especially if he'd found something... private, between them now. "Dean, I can only remember flashes here and there... I remember waking up terrified. Think I remember driving around with you. Maybe it'll all come back, maybe it won't, but are you okay?"

"It wasn't all horrible. We had a good time, for the most part. Got some pictures to get developed, later." Dean didn't look up from his coffee mug while he answered. Yeah, it hadn't been all bad. Not until the end. Even the, at least Sam hadn't run screaming from him or anything. It could have been worse. Just not by much.

"You've just got that big brain of yours. Too damn smart for your own good. You figured out pretty easily why there was only one bed in the place."

"Pictures?" He gave a snort, trying to swallow back any nervousness. It wasn't like it'd take a genius to figure out something was off here. One big bed, no other bedrooms or a place for either Dean or him to crash. They were close brothers, yeah, but not quite sharing-a-bed-close. At least not then.

He shifted a little, trying to brush off that uneasy feeling. He didn't know what he was supposed to say to that. "Yeah, well... It's not like I knew then what I know now, Dean. I was a kid, so whatever I said, I was probably just freaked, man."

He hoped that was comforting enough.

"Yeah. You really liked the ghost tour and the aquarium. Didn't make it to the zoo," he mumbled, lifting his coffee for a sip. It was obvious Sam was nervous and trying to make him feel better about the situation, but Dean was too far down a miserable hole right now to let himself be comforted.

"You looked disgusted. Never saw that look on your face before. It was like trying to explain it to Dad, but worse, because I really didn't want to hurt you..." God, he needed Sam to go to work so he could fall apart properly.

de-aged [For samefivealbums]

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