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Dean goes to his brother’s room that night, both worried for him and still wanting to apologise, to make things right. He couldn’t stand the distance between them. But he knew he was to blame. He had basically ignored how their losses were affecting Sam as well, and hadn’t known how he had felt, especially about Mary, until the session with the shape-shifting therapist.
Sam tidied things away in his room and got changed into slacks for bed. Dean still seemed pretty morose, and they hadn’t really been…close, since…since. Since before Mary, and Cas and Crowley and Jack… He understood, he did, and he knows they’ll be alright, as brothers. But it might take longer this time to get through this, if they ever really do. Dean’s been acting selfishly, out of whack, driven by his loss and not seeing clearly. Sam’s not going to provoke him. It would be futile.
Dean knocks on the door and steps in Sam’s room.
“Hey,” he says uncertainly. Sam mostly ignores him.
“Er…Look, Sam,” Dean heaves a sigh. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been acting off lately, and I’ve been pretty rough with you, and Jack, so…”
“Ok,” Sam shrugs, while still tidying away and not looking Dean in the eye.
“Ok then…” Dean says, sensing Sam wasn’t really in the mood for this right now. He didn’t know what else to say or do, and he didn’t wanna push Sam, and he wasn’t in the mood to argue, so he left.
This was a hard time for both of them. But Dean didn’t want to be this hostile with Sam for too long if they could help it. It really made him feel queasy for them to be like this, to act almost like strangers when they’re the complete opposite. But hopefully it wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t.