Summary:just a short little one shot. Sam comes to vist nate.
Word count:2,294
Nathan's face lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw the flashlight beam outside. "Sam!" He sprinted outside, clearing his window with an eager hop, and it took only moments--and some risky climbing moves, due to his haste to see his big brother--before he reached the nearby rooftop.
Sam caught him from behind, lifting him up and spinning him in a hug. "Ooh, you gotta learn to watch your back, little brother!" Nate laughed as Sam spun him and put him down. Sam ruffled his head. "Hey, it's good to see you, baby brother."
Nate beamed up at him, and Sam felt his heart jolt a little in his chest. It always did when Nathan looked at him like that--like he was the greatest, greatest thing in the world. And he knew that in Nathan's world, he was.
The euphoria pivoted to concern when he spotted the bruise on his brother's cheekbone. "Wha--" he stepped closer, cupping his brother's smaller face and turning his head to look at the marks. "What is THAT?"
"It's nothing," Nate said quietly, shrugging in an uncomfortable way that Sam instantly recognized. Nathan only shrugged like that when something was bothering him, but he didn't want Sam to worry. He did it every time he was upset, and every time he was sick. But Sam was never fooled.
"What, were you fightin'? You never fight." It was true; Nathan didn't ask for trouble. You couldn't find a more even-tempered kid. Sam stepped closer. "Nathan..." he said in such a parent-worthy warning tone that Nathan couldn't help but meet his gaze like a guilty dog.
"They said that Mom was in hell." It was so quiet that Sam barely heard it, even though the rooftops were silent otherwise. Nathan stared at the ground, and Sam immediately turned his little brother's face up towards him, putting his hands around his neck in a gentle bracing squeeze. He gave him a little shake. "Nathan, Nathan, they're just saying it because it gets to you, all right?" He shrugged. "You just gotta learn to laugh it off."
"You wouldn't," Nathan said, looking up at him surprisingly somberly. Sam met his gaze, focusing on his brother a little more: Nathan wasn't usually so earnest, or so direct in his gaze, unless he was seriously shaken up. Realizing that must be the case, Sam gave him a one-armed hug and laughed a little. He knew his little brother was right, anyway. "Well, do as I say, not as I do. And she's NOT, so don't worry about it." Sam said it with confidence, making them both feel a little better. It hurt Sam to think about his mother more than he would admit.
He stepped back and started taking off his jean jacket to reveal a red Henley underneath. "Here. You'll catch a cold."
Nathan rolled his eyes a little, but he couldn't help smiling. "I never get colds."
They both started laughing at the obvious joke, and Sam, still chuckling, started wrapping his little brother in the jacket affectionately, rubbing his arms up and down as he did to give them extra warmth. He felt a chill breeze across his own skin, but mentally brushed it off. "Really?" he asked knowingly, smirking "What d'you call those things you get every month from August to December, huh?"
"They're just...sniffles," Nathan said adorably, ensconced in the too-big-for-him jacket, and Sam giggled down at him as he ruffled his head. Nathan was the only person who could make him giggle like that. If the other guys from the street heard him make that sound...
Ah, fuck it, he thought as he fixed the jacket's collar and gave his brother a rub on the head. It's worth it.
"Sniffles, huh." He smirked again. "Nope, little brother, it's jackets for you from now to January. And longer, even."
