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Summary
“My brother. Where is he? He - he was with me when I went to sleep. What have you done with him?” Sam can feel the panic starting to claw up his throat, thinking about what might have happened to Dean, making his hands sweat - “And where are we? Where have you brought me?”
“Sam?” the man says again and man, it’s like a broken record, “Sam what the fuck,” and this is a waste of time, they’ve already established the man knows Sam’s name. Sam glances at the door, wonders if he can make a run for it. The man mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like ‘you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’
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Sam wakes up aged 9 and with zero clue who the weird man in the bed next to his is. They deal.
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It's not that Dean doesn't get that Sam doesn't want to talk about whatever Hell did to him; Dean practically wrote the book on that particular brand of avoidance. Except that Sam doesn't do this. Dean is supposed to clam up and Sam is supposed to pry and bleat about how "communication is good for the soul" or some shit. Sam is supposed to cry on his shoulder and Dean is supposed to stoically hold him and let him get it out, maybe shedding a manful tear or two in solidarity.
Here's the thing: Sam comes back from Hell with a bubble of space around him. He doesn't want to be touched, especially by Dean, and he won't explain. He won't talk about Hell at all, and Dean's going crazy. It's going to take a strange case (and a little magic) in Michigan to break the floodgates, but when Dean finally learns the truth, he might wish that he hadn't...
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Maryanne had worked as a nurse in the psychiatric ward for years, which meant that she knew a bad case when she saw one. Sam Smith's certainly matched her description of a terrible and undeserved psychotic break, but he had something most of her patients didn't: an older brother named Dean.
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Sam steps in again, buries his face in Dean's neck and grabs at his back, his ass, torso hot and sweaty against Dean's. Dean tries to catch his breath, fighting every urge to jump away from Sam; has to save his brother, and there's only one way, one way and Dean has to fucking let it happen.
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There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have.
Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants.