Brothers Keep Her

Suddenly he’s beside you, and though you see him out of the corner of your eye, you hold your gaze on the horizon. “I’ve never watched the sunrise over the ocean before.”

You study his solemn profile. “Never?”

Green eyes flanked in long lashes turn to you. “No. Sam and I, we talked about it. About coming out to the beach. You know, taking a vacation. But...”

“Evil doesn’t take vacation,” you finish for him.

He nods. “Where are we, anyway?”

“Pacific Grove, California.”

A frown of acknowledgment graces his lips as he takes a look around. Only the bottom tip of the sun still lingers below the water now, and its warm glow casts muted morning light over the rocks and sand. “Why here?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, really. I didn’t have time to think.”

“So... you just closed your eyes and put your finger on a map?” he asks with a forced chuckle.

It’s the place Crowley brought you before any of this became real, but you don’t want to tell him that. You don’t want to talk about the day Crowley snapped his fingers and suddenly you found yourself sitting across from him in a strange diner, hundreds of miles away from Dean. Except, at that moment, you wanted to get away from Dean. It hurt to think of that now; the way you hurt Sam - the way you both hurt Sam with that one night of drinking and dancing... And the kiss that changed everything.

“I looked for you,” he says. “Everywhere.”

I know.

“That was you with the computer,” he says. “Wasn’t it?”

The twitch in the corner of your mouth is enough for him.

He goes quiet again. Sounds of the car door opening and closing cut through the slapping of the foaming waves. Sam is awake.

“I should check on him,” you say, turning around.

“Wait,” Dean says, gently grabbing your elbow. His touch sends a mild electrical charge up your arm, through your shoulder, and into your chest. His breath catches a few times as if he’s about to talk but second-guesses what he wants to say. You hold your breath, holding onto the hope that he’ll tell you that he can’t bear to live without you, that he loves you, that he wants you to come back to him. But as each second ticks on, your hope fades, and your heart sinks. Finally, he clears his throat, but he won’t look directly at you. “Be safe out there. Wherever it is that you go.”

“Yeah,” you manage to say as your throat threatens to close in on itself. You want to say You, too, and so many other things, but you have to trust your eyes to do the talking. When you turn to go to Sam, he turns back toward the water, his green eyes glistening in the early morning daylight.