theron09

Title: Worth It, Maybe

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 773

Summary: A Canon AU New Year’s Eve.

A/N: Written for lady_eilthana ndash; I hope you enjoy this and that 2013 is good to you.

For the first time in quite a few years Dean wasn’t spending New Year driving on the run from the police or making his first kill of the year or too injured to even know what day it was. He’d still been young when days like Christmas and birthdays and New Year’s Eve had stopped being anything special and just become another day spent in a crappy motel room as his family tried to survive.

Finishing off the glass of whiskey he’d been nursing, Dean glanced over towards the table in the corner of the motel room where Sam was conducting some sort of research – Dean hadn’t really been listening to his brother as he’d explained what he was doing. The still half-full whiskey bottle was still on the table Pushing himself up off the bed and taking his glass with him Dean headed over to stand behind Sam and looked at the computer screen.

“I’m starting to compile all the information we gathered over the last year into a document,” Sam said. “Once that’s done I’m going to begin adding all the stuff from Dad’s journal too.”

“I knew that.” Dean reached for the bottle of whiskey and poured himself another glass before topping Sam’s glass up too. “I was listening.”

“No you weren’t.” Sam laughed but it didn’t sound cynical like it had so often over the last year and Dean counted that as a win.

“You should call it a night, chill a little.”

“Why?”

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “It’s almost midnight.”

Sam turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Just you – acknowledging the day. It’s not really like you.”

“We did Christmas last year.” Dean as the words left his mouth.

Sam was quiet for a moment before nodding. “Not really for the best reasons, though. And I just thought, you know, now things are back to normal you’d want to go back to denying the existence of all holiday days.”

Dropping down into the chair opposite Sam Dean huffed out a sigh. “Well we’re both here - relatively safe compared to usual – and no-one’s injured, neither of us are keeping any secrets and we’ve manage to dispatch the son of a bitch monster in town before New Year’s Eve for once. Maybe I’m feeling charitable.”

Dean couldn’t blame Sam for being surprised at him – he was surprised at himself. Usually he didn’t see the point in celebrating things, especially the start of another year that would be filled with close calls and dingy motel room decors. But the fact he was sitting casually talking to his brother with no serious injuries or demons out for their blood seemed, to him, like it was worth at least stopping work early for the night in acknowledgement of their survival.

“Well, are you and your charitable self going to make any resolutions then?” Sam smirked but Dean didn’t miss the way his brother leaned forwards ever so slightly, as though he was genuinely interested in the answer.

“Sure, that’s an easy one. I’m going to resolve to make sure that this year my baby doesn’t get put in any situations where she gets damaged.”

“Of all the things you could have gone for your New Year’s resolution is to protect your car?”

“She’s not just any car.”

“No,” Sam’s expression softened, “I guess she isn’t.”

“What about you?”

“My resolution is to get your ass eating healthier.”

Tilting his head Dean waited a beat before he responded. “That sounds pretty disgu-”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

Sam glanced at the watch that had once been his father’s, one he’d taken to wearing a lot recently. “About ten minutes to go.”

“Not long then.”

“No,” Sam paused. “How many years do you think we’ve seen in together, just the two of us?”

“A lot. Could have been worse though – when you think about it, Dad probably saw in most of those years on his own.”

“Yeah, we could have had it worse.”

They’d been agreeing a lot more lately, Dean realised. Not about things like food and music and what channel to watch but things that mattered – family and hunting and morals. Living had started to be, although always tiring, less exhausting than it had been, their bickering reduced to normal brotherly debates rather than life or death issues. Things were getting better.

Dean leaned back in his chair and watched as Sam got to work tidying away the papers scattered around his laptop. Five minutes to go until a new year began and, for once, it seemed like it might be worth celebrating.