Literally the only summary you need is above. I hit post limit on tumblr but I needed to get this idea out. This is totally what should have happened.

Kinda short, but I don't care.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural


"It's a symbol of their brotherly love, you know?" Marie said earnestly, holding out the prop samulet to Dean.

Dean pushed it back towards her, a smile that was not at all because of happiness twitching at his mouth.

"Well, Sam and Dean don't need a symbol. They know that."


Driving home from the school wasn't as awkward as Dean had expected.

They didn't talk at all, no questions on how Sam had done with Calliope. Just driving back to the bunker, one long road stretching in front of them and if the sun had been setting Dean might have been weirdly reminded of the background of the play they had just seen.

Halfway through the ride, Dean remembered the prop he'd snatched off the table right before they left.

He'd declined it earlier, when Marie had offered it to him, but something had made him take it when he and Sam passed by the table on their way out. No one had noticed, what with the flood of people in the lobby of the school and the actors grinning and talking excitedly with all the people who wanted to congratulate them.

Dean brought his hand up and looked down at the makeshift Samulet, or whatever the hell they had called it. It was too clunky, too light in his hand to try and convince himself that it was original, but it looked remarkably similar in most respects.

When Dean thought of the scarecrow prop, he thought it was lucky the pendant hadn't turned out worse.

Dean managed to concentrate on the road while fumbling around with the fake samulet enough to fashion a sort of loop. Wondering how Sam would react, but pushing past it, he reached out and hung it on the mirror.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam glance up and do what almost looked like a double take.

Dean pretended he didn't notice.

After a moment, Sam snorted. "Dude, you didn't need to take that."

"What, you don't-" The reply died in Dean's throat as Sam pulled something out of his pocket that gleamed dully in the light.

Sam pulled the prop samulet off the mirror with an almost gentle movement and slung the real one over it, quickly snagging the cord around the mirror so his hand didn't block Dean's view and putting the fake one in his pocket so that real and fake amulets switched positions.

Dean suddenly became aware that he was staring with his mouth open and yanked his attention back to the road, clearing his throat.

"You just carry that around with you?"

Sam snorted again, but this time it was a little less humorous. "I figured someone should."

Dean swallowed and spoke up. "You kept it?"

"Dean, I know..." Sam trailed off. "I know you tossed it, but-"

"I shouldn't have." Dean interrupted. "I was just - sick of everything-"

"I know. You don't need to apologize for that, Dean."

"I still shouldn't have." Dean looked over at Sam, who was staring out the window.

"It's fine. I get it. You were going through a lot of shit." Sam sighed. "We both were, then."

"Yeah, and we still are." Dean muttered, making Sam let out a short laugh.

"Have we ever stopped?"

Dean considered it. "Not really."

They drove for a little while more in silence before Dean moved again, yanking the amulet off the mirror - even if it temporarily obscured his view in the time it took to get it off - and slipped it over his own neck, the weight resting against his chest for the first time in years.

He could tell Sam was staring, but his younger brother looked away again without saying anything.

Dean laughed a minute later, remembering something from the play and making Sam frown at him.

"What?"

"Just the two of us against the world, Sammy."

Sam huffed out a laugh too. "Dean, please tell me you're not going to quote that show constantly."

"Are you joking?" Dean grinned, glancing over at Sam again. "It may be weird as hell, but I got to give it to her, Marie knows how to write a song."

"Dean..."


Three seconds later

Dean frowned, hand going to his chest as he realized something.

"What?"

"This feel a little warm to you?"


Read and review! My shortest story, but I like it all the same.