“It doesn’t look like much, does it?,” Sam asks softly, almost like he’s talking to himself. Dean makes a vague noise of agreement while his throat closes up.
It doesn’t look like anything.
There’s the slightest bump in Sam’s belly, but Dean is pretty sure that’s due to his imagination. He’s still clutching the pregnancy test, the fourth one, because they wanted to be sure, Dean fervently hoping for a fluke even after the third one. He doesn’t dare to think what Sam was hoping for, if he and Jess were trying for a kid. Doesn’t want to imagine it, Sam on his back with his stupidly long legs wrapped tightly around Jess’ waist to keep her inside, to get her seed good and deep.
Dean bites his lip, jealousy burning in the pit of his stomach like a hot knife. Sam is still looking down at his own stomach with the kind of fond smile Dean hasn’t seen in years.
“You can touch it, you know,” Sam says, gaze flicking up to meet Dean’s, grinning broader now.
“What for? It’s not like I’m gonna feel anything,” Dean replies and his voice doesn’t break, but it’s close.
“Dude.” Sam grabs his free hand and puts it palm-down against his belly. “Try to act like a normal person for once in your life, will you.” He covers Dean’s hand with his and pushes gently.
Sam’s skin is warm and Dean can feel the lean muscle underneath tensing slightly, relaxing again as Sam takes a breath. His brother smiles at him, the smile Dean once thought he’d never see directed at again, and for one long, terrible moment Dean wishes desperately that he had been the one to put this new life in Sam’s belly. He knows it’s impossible, at least not without involving some serious blood magic, but the wish grows in him like brushfire, consuming every thought in its path.
“Dean…” Sam whispers and Dean averts his eyes, terrified Sam will be able to read his face like an open book.
“We can’t keep hunting, when you—” Dean whispers, “when you get—” He falters.
“So big I can’t see my own feet?” Sam laughs harshly. “I know.”
“We can’t raise a kid on the fucking road, Sam!” Dean bites out, angry now. Angry and hurting with the knowledge that Sam won’t ever be able to let Jess go, not when he has her baby in him. “Who’s gonna feed it, huh? Who’s gonna—”
“Dean, I know,” Sam whispers and puts his other hand over Dean’s.
“I know,” he whispers again and doesn’t let go of Dean’s hand.