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Apr. 5th, 2010

We'd Share Each Other Like an Island
Sam/Dean, PG-13, 1422 words, spoilers for 516. In which things end happily ever after.

"This is ridiculous," says Dean. He's scowling at his plate like he actually wants to set it on fire with his eyes.

Sam smirks. "Doctor's orders, Dean."

He redirects his glare to Sam, and Sam's smile widens.

"Dude, I like you being alive," says Sam. There were years where he wouldn't be able to say it with a smile on his face, years when the very idea of Dean dying haunted his nightmares.

He never thought they'd be around long enough for it to become a punchline.

"This is not really living," says Dean. He spears a piece of lettuce and cracks the plate with the force of his fork.

"Cholesterol," Sam sing-songs.

Dean's glare is awesome; Sam grins and orders a burger.


Given an infinite amount of time, Sam and Dean always forgive each other, because they don't know how to be apart.


"You have two choices," says Dean. "I'm telling you this because you deserve to know."

The girl is pretty, dark-haired and big-chested. She reminds Sam of Madison, but most werewolves do. She's not crying, and she's not looking at Dean like she wants to rip his clothes off. She's listening.

"You're going to kill people if you don't do anything. And if that happens, we come back, and we stop you."

"We have to," says Sam. He smiles, because he still hates it.

"So what's the other choice?"

"Lock yourself up," says Dean. "Get a panic room, get something. You figure out a way. Because this is on you now."

"What is this?" she asks. "Monsters are people too?"

Sam manages a smile. "Something like that."


Becky's doing a book tour, and she's got a signing in New York. They're only a few hours out, so they drive over and get lunch.

"Salad?" Chuck asks Dean.

"Shut up."

He's got his beard shaved, and it makes him look younger. Becky's on the phone, and she barely glances at Sam. He has to admit, he's a little hurt.

"How's the tour going?" asks Sam, directing the question to both of them.

"Great," says Chuck. He looks so happy he might burst. "She's a great writer. Have you gotten a chance to read Phoenix Reborn yet?"

"Not yet," says Sam, at the same time Dean says, "Yeah, can I get the next one?"

Becky looks up at that. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's pretty good," says Dean. "I mean, more gay sex than I usually go for, but who am I to judge?"

Becky beams. "I'll get you a signed copy."

Chuck squeezes her hand, and Sam can't keep a grin off his own face either.


Dean's fortieth birthday is on a Thursday. They're in Cleveland, and it's snowing.

"We could go to the Botanical Gardens," says Sam.

Dean gives him a look.

"Or we could get some burgers."

"Dude, that's just cruel."

"It's your birthday," says Sam. "You get to spoil yourself a little."

Outside, it's chilly, and Sam pulls his coat closer. Dean looks great at forty, of course, the same way he always has, and snowflakes get stuck in his hair.

"You get me a cake?" Dean asks.

"Got you an over-the-hill hat," says Sam.

"Such a bitch."


Every few weeks, Becky will send him a link to another story about him and Dean together. He doesn't read them, but he finds it weirdly comforting to know that people still remember them, and want them to be happy.


There's a straight-up salt and burn in South Dakota, but the Ghostfacers beat them to it.

"Aren't you douchebags retiring yet?" asks Ed. Or maybe Harry. Sam's still not sure which is which. "We are way better than you."

"Way better."

"You're breaking my heart," says Dean.

"You guys coming to the convention this year?" asks the girl.

"Still no," says Dean.

"But we're flattered," says Sam. "Really."


At first, Dean shoved every good-looking girl they met at him, hoping one would stick.

They never talked about it or anything, but he hasn't tried it in years, and Sam doesn't get laid much anymore.

If Dean ever asked why, he'd tell him.


"So, it's--mummies?" Sam asks, juggling the phone on one shoulder and takeout in both hands. Dean's stretched out on the bed, reading Becky's book, not helping at all.

"Hell if I know," says Bobby. "That's why I called you."

Sam knocks his knee against Dean's foot and drops the bags of takeout on the bed. Dean grunts and waves his hand dismissively.

"We'll check it out," says Sam. "But seriously, mummies?"

"Figured you'd be excited for something different."

"I'll let you know how it turns out." He hangs up and turns to Dean. "You're not eating now?"

"This is good," says Dean.

"You know she still writes porn about us, right?"

"That's pretty good too," says Dean.

"Jesus," Sam mutters.

"Hey, she's crazy, but she's talented."

"We are not related."

"No, we definitely are," says Dean. He tosses Sam a smirk. "She's really clear about that."


The mummy is a bust, just a few kids with a projector.

"This is like fucking Scooby Doo," says Dean, shaking his head.

"We're not really meddling kids anymore, Dean."

"Whatever," says Dean. "I'm gonna be young forever."


They're in South Carolina for Sam's birthday. Dean breaks into an unoccupied beach house and they hole up there for a few days, even though they don't have a cake. The water's not really warm yet, but Sam goes swimming anyway, while Dean sits on the beach and complains about how he hates sand.

"Quit bitching, Anakin," says Sam, shaking his head.

"That's your reference? Dude, weak." Dean cocks his head. "Besides, that makes you the chick."

"Whatever," says Sam, "Natalie Portman is hot."

"Eh," says Dean. "She's got nothing on you."

Sam's heart stutters in his chest and wonders what he's supposed to say to that.


After the apocalypse, they tried going their separate ways. Sam got an apartment, looked at going back to school.

He called Dean after a week, and they were back on the road in two.


Sometimes, Castiel visits. He always tries to have an excuse, but Sam thinks he's lonely.

"Jimmy's daughter is graduating," is his opening line this time.

"Yeah?" asks Dean. "Time flies."

Castiel looks unsure. "I don't know if it would be appropriate for me to--"

"No," says Dean. He doesn't look at Castiel. "Leave her alone."

He leaves without saying goodbye.

"That was a little harsh," says Sam.

"He doesn't do subtle well," says Dean. "She doesn't need that."

"He's her family," Sam says, mostly because he wants to hear what Dean says.

So, of course, he doesn't say anything.


Sam gets fireworks for the Fourth of July.


Sam smiles, feels thirteen again. "It'll be fun," he says.

Dean looks at him for a long minute. "Yeah," he says. "Okay."

Sam knows the memory will always be fresher for Dean than for him, more complicated, but Dean's smile is real, and there are more and more wrinkles around his eyes every time, a reminder that Dean is older.

Most days, it feels more like a miracle than anything God ever did.


There's a djinn in New Mexico. It doesn't get Dean, but he looks haunted anyway.

"What do you think you would have seen?" Sam asks.

"I know," says Dean.


Sam nearly gets killed on a totally routine haunting in California, a gash across his chest that Dean sews up without saying a word.

"This is stupid," he finally says, when he's cleaning off the needle.

"Sorry," says Sam.

"No," says Dean. "I mean--no one would care. And we're not getting any younger."

"Yeah," says Sam, cautiously. He doesn't know what's he's agreeing to.

"Yeah," says Dean, leans over and kisses him.

"Oh," says Sam.

"Just so that's out of the way," says Dean.

"Yeah," says Sam, surer.


They go to Bobby's for Christmas. They share a room, and Bobby doesn't say anything. He gets Sam a new pair of boots and Dean a new jacket.

Dean throws him a package wrapped in newspaper, so unexpected Sam barely catches it.

It's a necklace, black cord and a Celtic knot in silver.

"Figured I owed you," says Dean.

Sam bites his lip and doesn't say anything, just slips it over his head and feels it settle against his chest.


That night, he leans down and kisses Dean, hears a click of metal on metal as their charms click together, and thinks, forty, fifty more years, if they play their cards right.

Plenty of time.


( 84 comments — Leave a comment )
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Apr. 6th, 2010 03:17 am (UTC)
File this under happy things that I REALLY needed to read.

Thank you for writing this. <3
Apr. 6th, 2010 03:26 am (UTC)
This coda makes my heart warm. ♥
Apr. 6th, 2010 03:27 am (UTC)
Given an infinite amount of time, Sam and Dean always forgive each other, because they don't know how to be apart.

That pretty much sums it all up.
Apr. 6th, 2010 03:33 am (UTC)
Apr. 6th, 2010 03:54 am (UTC)
Oh, this was so lovely! *makes happy noises*
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:03 am (UTC)

Apr. 6th, 2010 04:03 am (UTC)

Nov. 24th, 2011 12:05 am (UTC)
Your icon! I am like crying laughing
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:03 am (UTC)
This makes me happy!
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:17 am (UTC)
Gorgeousness. <33 Love it.
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:18 am (UTC)
Totally therapeutic. A soothing balm for the aching hearts of fandom. <3 <3 <3
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:22 am (UTC)
This makes me burst with happiness. ♥
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:35 am (UTC)
Oh, man. This made me cry, in the best way, in that "wow, my heart doesn't hurt as much" way. AMAZING, hon. Poignant and beautiful and just amazing.
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:37 am (UTC)
Aw! You made me misty-eyed. I loved it.
Apr. 6th, 2010 04:52 am (UTC)
I so wish this for them, sweetie. Thank you! :)
Apr. 6th, 2010 05:17 am (UTC)
I am wriggling and CLUTCHING THIS TO MY CHEST FOREVER, okay? *_*! So perfectly sweet.
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( 84 comments — Leave a comment )