endoftheverse | Deerington Inbox.

... I know you do.

I miss him, too.

[Which is funny to say, isn't it? Dean by every right deserves to miss him way more. He was with him the whole step of the way into the apocalypse; they knew each other, lived in each other's pockets like Sam and Dean had once upon a time. Stuck through it, self-destructed together, and...

Cas was just — here for Sam when he needed it. They were friends, in that short time.

Sam couldn't help but find comfort in his presence.]

Well... If I can hold a sliver of hope to get rid of Lucifer...

I can hold a hell of a lot more hope for Cas to come back.

[ He's glad for Sam, really. Cas is complicated for Dean in ways he doesn't completely understand, and he envies the friendship his brother clearly had. ]

I don't put a lot of stock in hope these days.

[ Things got too horrible for him to hold out hope. ]

Look, I don't wanna go all chick flick moment. Let's get this desk moved, kitchen fixed, okay?

[ And your things, if you're bringing that, too. Pls come :< ]

... Right. Chick flick moments are rare, use 'em sparingly.

[You never know when you'll need one.

Besides, he knows too much proding'll just shut Dean down, put him in a headspace that'll be hard to get out of. He knows because it happens to him, sometimes, too. Only he's quieter and more curled in on himself, like a dog dying in the bushes.

He clears his throat as he glances around the room.]

Well, I don't... plan on coming back, so. I'll sweep through and make sure I haven't left anything.

Exactly. This ain't the time, so save it for later.

[ He's relieved Sam lets it go for now, because he can't talk about Cas, can't talk about the things he'd done and left undone.

That last bit, though, he perks a little, undeniably pleased. ]

Really?

[Sam smooths a hand over his mouth and chin, surveying the small space; he double-takes at the pleased little look Dean gives him, and feels a little warm in the chest. Brothers, man.]

... Yeah, actually.

[There's a hell of a lot he could say right now, especially when it comes to the two of them, and the chances Dean's given him here, and the fact that they've been joined at the hip so long in their lives that walking away felt like complete exile, but he settles for:]

This place has pretty crappy AC.

[ he tries to look unbothered, but he's kind of shining like a kid. ]

Cool.

[ He's kept the place tidy, made room for another person (two actually, if the other Sam was interested) just in case Sam every took him up on his offer to move in, to stick together. He didn't want to push, not with their lives as fragile as they are, their relationship so recently renewed.

But man...Dean really wants his brother back. ]

Well, I won't lie. You'll probably have to fix mine.

[His eyebrows raise.]

Guess I should probably get on that before summertime.

C'mon, grab that end over there; let's get the hell out of here. [He gives pause.] ... I don't think the elevator works, so I hope you're ready for a real fun trip down some stairs.

[It's fine, it's a nice day for brotherly bonding through bickering about moving furniture.]

Probably not a bad idea.

[ Dean groans in mock frustration, shuffling over to get ready to lift his end. ]

I see now why you didn't tell me before I came over here.

What, do you not need the exercise?

[C'mon, Dean, put your back into it.]

Pretend it's one of Dad's lessons in how to field carry an injured civilian. And if you don't do it quick enough, you won't get that gross cheeseburger you obsessed over in that Milwaukee diner that you made us double back around to get more of.

[ Ugh fine. He's in okay shape, he's been running for his life for a few years with no cheeseburgers in sight. God he'd kill for one. ]

Man. I'd do it again, too. Those were delicious.

[He rolls his eyes. Predictably.]

Yeah, yeah. Just get a move on.

[He supposes they're, uh. On their way home. Their home, plural?

Some part of him is nervous to live with Dean again, because the last time he'd moved in... they were gone. Cas and Dean both. If he ever had to wake up to a lifeless house again... he's not sure what he'd do.

But for now... they have this.

It's good.]

[ Their home. The Winchester cabin. Other Sam too, if he wants. Dean would like that. Keep all his Sam's safe, in one place. The other Dean also, if that's his jam. A real home, a place they can call theirs. ]

Look, Grandpa, I'm the one with the idiot end, here, use your legs--

[ Because this desk is pretty solid and Dean's the one going backwards so cmon Sam put your back into it, dammit! ]

... I'm moving, I'm moving.

[He's just too busy being amused, watching Dean shuffle down some stairs backwards, sorry.]

Who are you calling Grandpa, anyway? You're the one who still listens to mullet rock ritually.

Are you sure you're even lifting, dude? [ Because this thing is heavy and you' don't seem WINDED Sammy ]

Grandpa's listen to crap from the 40s. Cool people listen to mullet rock.

[He's injured, remember? Totally weaker. That's 100% the reason. Not giving Dean a hard time at aaaall.]

Does the 50's get a pass? The beginning of the Elvis era.

[Everybody likes a little Elvis from time to time, c'mon.]

Elvis gets a pass.

[ But like. That's about it. ]

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