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Dean was waiting on the couch for Sam. She'd promised a proper night in tonight, just after she'd gotten Jack to sleep. He had Indiana Jones loaded, popcorn in a bowl. They hadnt done this for years. He was excited.
She practically collapsed into the seat next to him, giving a small smile, brushing her hair from her face, "He's asleep. And so is Cas," Snorting, she motioned for Dean to press play.
"Indiana Jones?" She asked, tucking her knee under herself, "I'd of thought you'd be burnt out with kids movies by now."
"Indiana Jones is not a kids movie," Dean replied, indignant, "Its art."
"Right, yeah," She snorted again, shaking her head.
"Did you want to talk, anyway?" She asks, ten minutes in, watching Dean more than the movie.
"About?" He asks, cheeks pinking already. He knows already, of course.
"About your performance. Earlier today."
"Nothin' to talk about," He shrugs, "I made a mistake. Everyone does sometimes."
"Dean," She sighed, shifting to face him, "Thats not... that wasnt like you. You dont piss- wet yourself to grab my attention." She could see him shrinking into himself already, "Thats not you. You blow shit up."
He furrows his brow at that, but doesnt argue.
"You'd stage an emergency or drag me on a really very important hunt. Thats what you do," She's got that half mocking tone he knows so well, but he cant bring himself to be upset, "So, really, what's going on?"
"I dont know." His voice is firm, not yet giving way to the anxiety tight in his chest, "It just... it made sense. I dont know."
She sounds impatient, now, and he can hear the annoyance, "You must know, Dean. Has anything happened? What changed?"
"What changed?" He asked, incredulous, "You have lucifers child sleeping in your bed! And, and he calls you mommy, and in some weird twisted fucked up way you love him!" He's not yelling, not really, but he is frustrated.
"He's my son," Sam is calmer, now, brows furrowed, "Is that what this is about? Lucifer?"
"No," Dean groans, "Its not... 's got nothing to do with him."
"Then what?"
"I don't know."
"Is it Cas? Are you mad about Cas?"
"I don't know."
"Then its Jack, then? Something to do with Jack?"
"I dont know, Sam! I dont know! Listen to me!" He was yelling this time, in a hushed kind of way, not wanting to alert Castiel. Or, god forbid, Jack.
"Alright," She nodded, "I'm listening. Talk. Because I know you know something."
"Jealousy." Dean rushes, "Its... its the jealousy."
She goes to talk, a short reply, but he cuts her off, "Its not the normal jealousy. Like... like you said? How if it was normal I'd just make you leave with me."
She's quiet for a minute, "Can you explain it? Compare it to something?"
"Like..." He tries, stills, "Like, like when you were born. When you were a baby, dad said I had to give everything to you, see? I didnt get anything with mom after that. It was all... all, you know, 'Dean, you're a big boy now. Baby Sammy gets the crib, and he gets mommy, and he gets the pacifers. Those aren't for you, Dean.'"
Sam smiles at Deans imitation of their father, head tilted, "Dad made you give me your pacifiers, huh?"
Dean shrugged, "Not really. They were too big for your mouth. He just tossed mine. Then I wasnt allowed to borrow yours."
Sam nods, thinking, "Keep watching the movie, Dean. I'll be back in a second."
He gives her a concerned look but doesn't say anything, lost in his own thoughts again. Verbalising his feelings had helped him understand some, a little.
She's gone for barely two minutes, but its long enough for him to zone out.
"Jack wont mind you borrowing," She says, jolting Dean out of his thoughts. He spins his head, and right there, in Sam's hand, was a pacifer. Pale blue, blank.
"I'm not a baby." He starts, immediately offended.
"I know. But you're jealous of a baby. This might help." She wiggles it between her fingers, nipple catching the light of the movie.
"I dont know how, or why, but I think you're dealing with a lot of pent up feelings. From when you were little." She explains, "Mom and dad didnt transition you into big boy hood very well. They just took your comforts and told you to grow up," She settled next to him again, "And you, like a good little boy, just dealt with it. You never had time to cope with the change." She didnt need to say why, they both knew.
"But now its all resurfacing, isnt it? Because of Jack." She holds the pacifer inches from his face, "Its the same situation to your brain. A baby has swooped in and stolen your family from you."
Dean nods, slowly. It made sense.
"Just tonight," He says, more for himself, before dropping his head forward, mouth open. Sam meets him half way.
The rubber is heavy on his tongue, which he doesn't fully understand, because it looked so light.
He holds it there for a minute, unsure on how to proceed. Of course it doesn't take him long to remember, one tentative suck, then two. And before he knows it he's in his own world, relaxing against the cushions.
He jumps when Sam lays her hand on his head, fingers carding through his hair, "How do you feel?"
He just nods, not wanting to take it from his mouth for a second.
"You can keep that one." She offers, "Jack isnt a fan. He jas more, anyway."
Dean almost protests, but decides its not worth it. If Sam says its okay, then its okay.
His eyes are drooping and he wasnt tired a minute ago, but the gentle caress of his Sammys hand, the low noise of thr film and the repetitive suckle on the pacifier drag him under.
"There you are," Sam shushes, soothing, "Go to sleep, Deanie. I'll be here when you wake up,"
Huh. He liked that. Deanie.