Who: Sam and Dean. What: Brothers reuniting. When: Not too long after Dean's arrival. Where: Internet cafe. Rating: TBD. Status: In progress.
Dean was alive. He wasn't in hell, suffering an eternity of torture for the sacrifice that he had made in order to assure that he, his younger brother, got to continue living after he had been murdered. Even to this day, Sam wished that his brother had just left him where he belonged. It had been his fate to die. His time, not Dean's. But there had been no going back. There was no way to fix what he had done. Sam had tried everything possible and he couldn't save his brother in the way that Dean had saved him. It killed him to think that he was so uncapable. That feeling had haunted him for months now and, even though Dean was suddenly back in action, Sam couldn't possibly begin to think of a way in which he could shove those feelings aside. Dean had gone to hell. Who knew what had happened to him down there?
Because of me, Sam thought to himself as he slammed the door of the impala shut, because I was stupid enough to trust that Jake wouldn't turn his back on me. Him and his faith in people. It had faded considerably since then.
Keys in hand, Sam quickly brushed past a couple moving down the sidewalk and made his way off toward the cafe Dean had pointed him to. He hadn't wasted any time in getting there, that was for sure. Sam wanted to see his big brother again. More than anything else in the world.
Breaking through the entrance, Sam scanned through the various faces and, only for a short moment, his face fell. Where was Dean? Where in the hell was Dean? Was this some kind of trap? Had someone pretended to be his brother just so that they could fool him into coming here? A surge of pain and anger rose up within him at once. And then, just like that, it washed away as a familiar figure fell into his line of sight. Mouth opening in surprise, Sam quickly dashed forward and moved toward Dean at an alarmingly fast rate. It probably looked like he was on the verge of attacking him.
And, in a way, he was. Some might have chosen to use the word 'glomping' to define what Sam had done. He, on the other hand, preferred the actual word. A hug. One that would likely kill Dean all over again if he didn't release his death grip on him soon enough.