(no subject)

[elinorwise]

Dean swings back around. "I wanted to say sorry, y'know, about last night. I guess I wasn't expecting it to hurt as much as it did. Seriously, it's only knocked off the top spot of Painful Experiences in my Life by a trip to Hell. But I know it's something we've gotta do so-" He breaks off, scrapes his fingers through his hair anxiously.
It figures that Dean is ridiculous and fucked up enough, Sam thinks, that he can take the assorted injuries of hunting ghosts and demons without complaint, but apparently bottoming is beyond his pain tolerance.
"Dude, I hurt you. You totally don't have to apologize. We'll think of something else for next time."
Dean nods and doesn't move. If they stand there much longer, Sam suspects they'll have an audience, one that either expects Sam to go down on one knee, or Dean to go down on both.
"So where were you going?" Dean says.
"Uh… hiding," Sam says. "You should know that the angels and demons think we should, uh, that weshouldgetmarried. And I thought I'd take off for a while until I could figure out a way out of it."
Dean is studying him with narrowed eyes. "They want us to get married?" he asks very levelly and very neutrally.
"Yeah," Sam says, and stares off into the distance.
"And you're leaving so you can think how to get out of it?" Dean says.
"Yeah."
There's a long pause and then, in an exceptionally dangerous tone of voice, Dean says, "So I'm good enough to fuck but not to marry? Gee, Sammy, good to see you're not settling."

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