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The thing is, my little brother thinks he's so smart in hiding his true motivations behind that 'I'm an earnest little puppy' gaze of his, which, much to my chagrin, still works on me at times.
But right now, when I've got this effin' Mark on my arm, I'm super-attentive to my Sammy vibes.
See, Sam is the empath, the 'sympathetic to little old ladies' sweet-talker in our two-brother unit, and those same little old ladies who want to feed him cookies and admire his pretty hair would be horrified to see Sammy when he goes badass, and there's nothing that makes him hulk out more than when I'm in danger.
That's when my little brother morphs into the scariest dude on the planet; worse than me.
Modestly, I'm one hundred percent badass, twenty-four-seven, but Sam saves it all up until I'm in danger, then he lets loose with the force of a freakin' tornado.
So when Sam looks at me with that constipated expression that is supposed to assure me he'll respect my wishes and not do anything stupid to try and get the Mark off my arm, I know without a doubt that something fucked up is going through his mind, like dabbling in VERY dangerous stuff.
It's my sworn duty as a big brother to nip THAT right in the bud!
If Sam tells me he's going off to see a French film about a cockroach, I give him the benefit of the doubt, 'cos it's something my geeky little brother would do.
But when a week later he hums and haws about needing a night to himself... "You know, Dean. Uh..... you're not the only one who enjoys female company now and then,"...it raises my suspicions
I stare at him as if he's an alien who's just beamed down to probe my ass because even if Sam was gearing up for a sexy night out, I'm the last person he'd tell.
Sam flushes under my gaze as if he realizes this might not have been the smartest excuse to come up with.
"I...uh.. met her in the library," he adds. "We got talking and...uh.!"
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I wave a dismissive hand.
"Dude," I say. "No problemo! You don't have to explain the birds and bees to me. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, sex ensues!"
He can't quite meet my eyes, though. And now I'm certain whatever he's going out for, no females are involved!
"Fine," Sam nods. "See you later then."
"Dude, You're a Winchester. You've got a reputation to keep up! I don't want to see your lanky ass back here until you stumble through that door tomorrow morning, utterly sexed out and with your arms full of coffee and pie."
Sam gives me a pursed-lip smile, slips on his jacket, and throws me one last inquisitive look before he turns and lopes up the steps to the door.
"Little shit, " I whisper to myself while pulling on my jacket and making a run for the garage. I've been working on one of the newer models. Got her up to spec. You never know when you might need some wheels to chase after a lying little brother.
By the time I get the car out onto the blacktop, Sam's nowhere to be seen, but there's only one road to take, and before long I catch sight of my baby's tail-lights in the distance.
The Impala roars along for another mile or so, then draws into the side of the road, and a familiar figure slips into the passenger seat.
"Castiel!" I growl.
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If there's one creature Sam should avoid, it's the angel. Nothing good ever comes of pairing up with him, and I still bear him a grudge as big as the Grand Canyon for what he did to my baby brother's wall.
Oh, I cover it well, but I don't forget.
Just like I don't forget about Walt and Roy. Don't think I haven't tried to find them, but they seem to have disappeared off the face of the Earth.
Can't say I blame them. If Dean Winchester was on my ass, I'd run too.
I allow myself a quick chuckle before getting back to business.
Sam and Castiel are a bad mix. Sam tends to get utterly obsessed with whatever he's doing, and Cass isn't smart enough to control my nerdy brother, so I'm gonna do some separating!
I follow them to a house that gives me the creeps just looking at it. Classic fortune-teller, psychic, or witch pad.
Well, whoever's inside ain't gonna have the pleasure of a visit from Sammy Winchester tonight. Word of his big brother!
I draw up behind them and swagger out of the car.
"Huh, " I say, ignoring the surprise in the two pairs of eyes. "Don't think much of the chick you picked up, Sammy. No rack, flat ass, and terrible dress sense!"
"Dean," Sam squeaks. "What ...?"
"Oh come on, Sam! I might have the Mark, and demonhood might be waiting for me just around the corner, but I'm not a fool and I know you too well, little brother!"
Sam widens his arms, going for his trademark conciliatory explanation. "Dean. It's not what you think..."
"And just what do I think, Sam? Do I think you're going to try something stupid...and dangerous to get rid of the Mark. Or perhaps I'm way off and you've got a thing for Cass but were too embarrassed to tell me!"
Sam lets loose with one of his bitch-faces, but I shrug it off. Been giving me them since he was a cute toddler, so no shit, Sammy!
I know Sam will try to talk his way out of whatever it is he was going to do, so I turn to Castiel.
It's like taking candy from a baby.
"Why are you and Sam here? " I ask, nodding towards the house.
"Dean," the toneless voice answers. "Sam told me not to say anything..."
"Don't worry, Cass. He won't hurt you while I'm here to protect you," I smirk.
Neither of us could hurt a re-graced Castiel even if we wanted to, but I like that he kinda cowers just the same!
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"Cass!" Sam interrupts in a warning tone.
"Shut the fuck up, Sam, " I say crudely. And to my amazement, Sam does.
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I circle Cass like a predator. "So, I'm waiting."
"Sam found a witch who's willing to try a spell, as ancient as the Mark itself, to remove it from your arm."
"That so? " I say. "And just what does she want in payment, or is she helping out for free?"
Castiel looks desperately at Sam, but I step forward to block his view.
"She needs all of Sam's blood to perform the spell. That's why I'm here, to cure him as soon as the witch has what she needs," he blurts out finally.
My heart does a terrified flip at the thought of a witch sucking out all of my baby brother's blood, and I death-glare the angel for even considering going along with Sam's moronic idea! Since when were witches trustworthy?
"Well, there's not gonna be any spell-casting, so you can take your angel ass off to wherever it goes at this time of night."
Cass gives Sam one last glance and disappears.
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"Get into the car, " I growl at Sam, who obeys, for which I'm pleasantly surprised. He only does that when he's been caught doing something wrong.
"If you ever do anything like that again, I'll fucking chain you down in the dungeon for the rest of your life. "
A bit exaggerated, I know, but I'm raging at my idiot brother.
"Apart from the fact of having all your freaking blood drained, you don't know what the bitch would've done with it. You are NOT going to give your life for mine. You are NOT going to deal with creatures who would love to see us both dead, and you are NOT ever going to conspire behind my back again."
I was yelling now, but Sam makes me lose it when he does stuff like this!
"Promise me whatever you want to try, you will be up-front about it."
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Sam lifts his head and meets my eyes then, and they're glazed over.
Freakin'hell. I'm as pissed as a roaring grizzly, and Sam's delving into chick-flick territory.
"Dean," he murmurs. "I...I... "
I roll my eyes and cup the back of his neck, my anger vanishing completely.
I know the desperation of wanting to save my brother, the need to try anything, even the most dangerous, to keep him near, so I pull the big lump towards me and he buries his head in my shoulder.
"It's okay, Sammy. We'll get through this."
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A shaky nod is his only answer, and so we sit there.
I'm thirty-six and Sam's thirty-two, but the way we're huddled together in the front seat of the Impala, comforting each other, it would seem we were thirty years younger.
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The End