Okay guys. Someone out there needs our help. I’d never ask any of you to donate unless I thought it was for a really good cause.
This is a link to donate to my friend Carla. She needs our help to get back on her feet to do work so she can support her son. All she…
Anyone in the Boston area of Mass.
I’m posting this for anyone who is not watching the television.
This man is the Boston bombing suspect, Dzhokhar A. Tsarnaev, and he is 19 years old.
If anyone has seen him in the area, call the police or FBI immediately!
The Boston area is on LOCKDOWN as the search for him continues.
Please reblog to get his picture EVERYWHERE
DO NOT APPROACH HIM. THE POLICE REPORT THAT HE IS ARMED AND DANGEROUS. STAY INDOORS AND CALL 911 IF YOU SEE HIM.
There is a link going round requesting people help castheangelofthursgay
If those posts could be deleted, we would be very grateful.
Sam was glad Dean was calming down a little… Maybe things could go back to normal between them… How long had it been since they’d really been /brothers/? More than just awkwardly short phone calls that ended abruptly, or quick emails back and forth whenever Dean could manage to get on to a computer, which was pretty rare. They hadn’t seen each other since the night of the big fight when Sam left for Stanford… Part of Sam assumed they might not ever again…
He should have assumed that their father didn’t know about this… Sam and his dad didn’t leave of on good terms in any sense, and Dean nearly always took his father’s side with things, if he took a side at all. But it was good to know that, despite the family feuds, he could always count on his brother to protect him, even if he didn’t really want it…
But he pushed thoughts of Travis out of his mind for now, his eyes lidding slightly and he nodded his head as he leaned back against the bed more comfortably. “How do you expect me to lie still and bored for half an hour?” he asked, smiling just a little up at Dean, trying to lighten the mood between them and hopefully lift his brother’s spirits some.
Dean knew instantly that Sam was trying to change the subject, make the situation a little lighter. He couldn’t blame him for that. It was awkward. Everything that had already happened? Dean just about beating the shit out of a guy he found had been abusing Sam? Well it was a lot to wrap your head around and who would really want to think about it anyway?
“I expect you to do it or I’ll make you.” He challenged, teasingly. Of course now that Sam was back, for however long that lasted, Dean would act like he was the big bad in charge. He was half tempted to reach out and tickle him, make him squirm some but he also wanted Sam to relax. He wanted him to just feel better. How long, he wondered, had it been since Sam had actively been taken care of?
Not that Sam was big on letting Dean take care of him anyway. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try though.
After a moment Dean shifted onto the bed and grabbed the remote, turning the TV on so they could at least listen to the news or something. “There. Don’t ever say I didn’t do anything for you.” He teased with a wink.
Yes, the discomfort in the air was still palpable… It was impossible to fully ignore the elephant in the room, and he knew at some point they were going to have to talk about it… About how Sam had let some guy walk all over him. But to Sam, Travis had been more than just ‘some guy’. It was impossible to describe why Sam loved Travis, and he was sure it would never be something that Dean would understand.
And it was obvious how quickly Dean fell back into the big-brother role. Even after been apart for years, it seemed that this was their natural state for their relationship: Sam was being taken care of by Dean.
Part of Sam minded, only a little, a nagging little scratching at his emotions for sinking back into the little brother role, but he pushed that side for now. For now, he would let himself be little brother and let Dean be big brother. At least he knew that would ease his brother’s worried mind, if only a little bit.
“Yeah yeah…” he tried tilting his head down a bit to view the television screen, but to no avail. It strained too much on his bruised neck to even try. “Ugh… I can’t even see it. Only hear it.” he mumbled and rolled his eyes, but a smirk was ghosting under that scowl.
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