Dean knows well enough that Sam can see through the farce. He's had too many years of training, perfecting the art of seeing through his fake grins and play acting not to know when Dean's trying his hardest not to be all the things he's feeling. And he's gotten pretty damn good at it over the years, but right now he's frayed and everything's riding just beneath the surface. On edge and brittle enough that he's not quick enough to get there before Sam can see too much and Dean just wants to be the kind of tough that means he doesn't have to feel any of it. That it doesn't even have to be a thing that upsets him, just years he can brush aside as if they were never there to begin with. Because he can do that, right? He can pretend just that well, make them all go away so he doesn't have to endure what he keeps telling himself didn't hurt as bad as it did.
Or Sam can slam him into a hug that near knocks him to the ground, that works too.
Dean makes a soft 'oof' of breath as Sam collides into his arms, not even remotely prepared to be giving out hugs like this. But Sam is just there and Dean just gives, not because he has to but because he wants to. Even if hugs are an exceptionally foreign thing right now and he feels off kilter, like he doesn't know how to respond the right way. He spent years causing far too many souls far too much pain and he's not even sure he deserves this, a thing that nearly makes him shrink inside, his shoulders curling inward against it, almost trying to repel backwards. But Sam deserves a hug- he can manage a hug, he can do this. It's not as if it's an impossible thing, it's just a fucking hug, and Dean finally squeezes back, pulls Sam in close and claps a hand to his back, hard and resounding, trying to offer what comfort he can give.
In all honesty, he's not really clear on how long he's even been gone. He knows how long he was there, oh he knows, but after that everything gets a little murky. And really, the only thing he can assume is that Sam just showed up here as well, that they met in the same place at the same time in the only way that they can do. It's the only thing that makes sense and yet still doesn't because why would they be here in the first place?
Especially when whatever dragged him out of Hell, had no reason to go about shoving Sam into another life he wasn't supposed to lead. Sam should be back home, living the life Dean tried so hard to give back to him. Unless Sam was the one that did this in an attempt to bring him back- Dean doesn't know, and he wants answers more than he knows how to say them, instead just keeping his chin tight against Sam's shoulder like the hug's some kind of liferaft in the middle of the sea.
But eventually he's still gotta pull back, try to save himself some face and set his jaw like a man who knows what he's doing. Even though he hasn't got a clue, wouldn't know where to start even if someone gave him the directions.
"You got something to do with this?"
It's the first thing he can truly think to ask and it's not an accusation, nor does it sound like one. He was the one who sold his soul after all, he can't exactly point fingers at trying to save Sam from peril, and he tips his head a bit, trying to look Sam in the face like he can read the hidden messages behind whatever answers he has to give.
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Or Sam can slam him into a hug that near knocks him to the ground, that works too.
Dean makes a soft 'oof' of breath as Sam collides into his arms, not even remotely prepared to be giving out hugs like this. But Sam is just there and Dean just gives, not because he has to but because he wants to. Even if hugs are an exceptionally foreign thing right now and he feels off kilter, like he doesn't know how to respond the right way. He spent years causing far too many souls far too much pain and he's not even sure he deserves this, a thing that nearly makes him shrink inside, his shoulders curling inward against it, almost trying to repel backwards. But Sam deserves a hug- he can manage a hug, he can do this. It's not as if it's an impossible thing, it's just a fucking hug, and Dean finally squeezes back, pulls Sam in close and claps a hand to his back, hard and resounding, trying to offer what comfort he can give.
In all honesty, he's not really clear on how long he's even been gone. He knows how long he was there, oh he knows, but after that everything gets a little murky. And really, the only thing he can assume is that Sam just showed up here as well, that they met in the same place at the same time in the only way that they can do. It's the only thing that makes sense and yet still doesn't because why would they be here in the first place?
Especially when whatever dragged him out of Hell, had no reason to go about shoving Sam into another life he wasn't supposed to lead. Sam should be back home, living the life Dean tried so hard to give back to him. Unless Sam was the one that did this in an attempt to bring him back- Dean doesn't know, and he wants answers more than he knows how to say them, instead just keeping his chin tight against Sam's shoulder like the hug's some kind of liferaft in the middle of the sea.
But eventually he's still gotta pull back, try to save himself some face and set his jaw like a man who knows what he's doing. Even though he hasn't got a clue, wouldn't know where to start even if someone gave him the directions.
"You got something to do with this?"
It's the first thing he can truly think to ask and it's not an accusation, nor does it sound like one. He was the one who sold his soul after all, he can't exactly point fingers at trying to save Sam from peril, and he tips his head a bit, trying to look Sam in the face like he can read the hidden messages behind whatever answers he has to give.