Flawed Perfection [Sam Winchester]

07 | some rest for the wicked

It's little things at first. Watching TV on the couch during the day at a distance far enough for Dean to squeeze into the middle of if he wanted to—which he does, on occasion. Filling out crossword puzzles in the paper and sometimes online. Going for morning jogs around the block, which Kendall isn't a huge fan of, but she likes the way Sam's eyes light up when she makes him laugh while wind is whipping through his hair.

Then the little things start to grow. They watch movies at night when Dean's gone to check out the Louisiana nightlife, and there's no distance between them this time as they share a blanket and a bowl of popcorn. Kendall absolutely can't believe that Sam's not above doing the "fake yawn move" so he can put his arm around her shoulders, but she doesn't even call him out on it. Just moves in a little closer.

When Kendall goes to Mac's dance recital and is outside promising her family that she'll text them all about it, she's surprised when Sam shows up right before it starts. In his hands is a bouquet of red roses to present to Mac after his performance and a bouquet of purple irises for her. She had mentioned how it was her favorite flower in passing and is happy he remembered.

They go grocery shopping and visit the farmer's market, sometimes collaborating on what they should eat. Other times Kendall takes over and decides she wants some soul food or jambalaya or any other Louisiana delicacy. Then they head home and cook, moving around each other in the kitchen seamlessly.

All of their time together gives Dean ample ammo, and he refuses to let up on teasing the two. Especially when he wakes up one morning to brew some coffee and finds the couch where Sam sleeps (because he let Dean have the guest room) empty and no signs that he had left the house. Then seconds later he sees him emerge from Kendall's room.

"Oh, wow," he says, eyebrows raising and a smirk playing at his lips. "I thought southerners had a whole thing about sharing a bed before marriage being indecent and all that."

Sam's still rubbing sleep out his eyes as he heads towards the kitchen, but Kendall's happy to answer as she comes to lean in the doorway. "Nothing happened," she tells Dean, yawning. "The couch is too small, so I let him share with me."

Dean still looks entirely too amused for his own good. "Uh-huh. And why don't I believe that?"

"I don't know," she says, arms crossing over her chest as she shrugs. "Short term memory maybe, because I shared a bed with you, and nothing happened."

"You two shared a bed," Sam asks, sleep fading away instantly as he comes back over to offer her a mug of coffee. "That couldn't have gone well."

"Compared to what we dealt with after, it was a walk in the park," Dean supplies. The smell of coffee entices him then, and he decides to drop the conversation for now to grab himself some.

"Thanks," Kendall tells Sam, lifting the coffee up slightly higher in a salute before blowing it to take a sip. Then she lowers her voice to say, "Is this a bad time to tell Dean you're a cuddler?"

Sam gives a tired chuckle, smiling. "I will deny everything."

Afterwards, Dean still doesn't let it go, but he may be on to something, because sharing her bed does bring them even closer. Close enough that Kendall's eventually ready to share with him what she saw in the journey to the future. It's not like they haven't already shared heavy stuff. The death of his parents, Damian's death, Sam having demon blood, Kendall coming out as bisexual to him, Sam being Lucifer's vessel, and a whole host of other things. But this is different.

Kendall's been having frequent nightmares about Lucifer killing her six ways to Sunday, which she'd been able to hide when returning to Metairie since she slept alone. Sam's presence beside her, however, makes hiding it impossible. One night she jolts awake from a particularly bad dream, covered in sweat and her breathing erratic. Sam's up just as fast, placing a hand on her arm and asking what's wrong.