[After Sam left, Dean dozed for another hour or so. He knew he'd only have today to accomplish anything, since the rest of the weekend had been spent in blissful debauchery. Once he was awake and thinking, he got himself a shower, dressed, and set to work doing all the things he'd meant to do over the last three days.]
[While he worked, he thought about what had happened with him and his brother. It was so far out of left field, it might as well have been from another planet, but try as he might, he just couldn't dredge up any guilt over it. If something like this had happened when his brother was any younger, Dean might have contemplated a nice jump off the nearest bridge for his crimes, but Sam was an adult. Strong enough and secure enough to make choices for himself. And Dean.... Dean had a giant hole in him where his family used to be. Mom dead, Dad in a bottle or on a hunt, Sam off to school. He needed this. Needed to be loved and wanted and needed. He couldn't give it up now if he was at gunpoint.]
[By the time Sam got home, he'd finished the laundry. His own got shoved into his bag, but he'd carefully folded Sam's in that OCD way his brother liked. He'd gone out and found a grocery store, acquiring food beyond bacon for the fridge and even found a small coffeemaker, which he put to immediate use once he got back to the apartment. The trash got taken out because, seriously, there were used condoms everywhere and he cleaned the spots around the living room where they'd gotten... enthusiastic the night before.]
[The apartment was presentable and smelling of brewed coffee when Sam came in. Dean was sacked out in the bed, face down in the pillows, snoring faintly.]
no subject
[While he worked, he thought about what had happened with him and his brother. It was so far out of left field, it might as well have been from another planet, but try as he might, he just couldn't dredge up any guilt over it. If something like this had happened when his brother was any younger, Dean might have contemplated a nice jump off the nearest bridge for his crimes, but Sam was an adult. Strong enough and secure enough to make choices for himself. And Dean.... Dean had a giant hole in him where his family used to be. Mom dead, Dad in a bottle or on a hunt, Sam off to school. He needed this. Needed to be loved and wanted and needed. He couldn't give it up now if he was at gunpoint.]
[By the time Sam got home, he'd finished the laundry. His own got shoved into his bag, but he'd carefully folded Sam's in that OCD way his brother liked. He'd gone out and found a grocery store, acquiring food beyond bacon for the fridge and even found a small coffeemaker, which he put to immediate use once he got back to the apartment. The trash got taken out because, seriously, there were used condoms everywhere and he cleaned the spots around the living room where they'd gotten... enthusiastic the night before.]
[The apartment was presentable and smelling of brewed coffee when Sam came in. Dean was sacked out in the bed, face down in the pillows, snoring faintly.]