Dean’s smile as Storm watched him approach made him uneasy.
Or maybe it wasn’t the smile. Maybe it was just being back here at his childhood home. The place held too many memories of Emma, his late wife, memories he was still struggling to let go of two years after her death.
“I thought I'd find you here." Dean bumped him playfully with his bare foot, jolting him out of his anxiety.
The resemblance between them was uncanny even against the stark contrast of their coloring. Dean, with his fair complexion took after their mother, and Storm, dark and broody, favored their father. Both brothers were tall and solidly built, and they shared the same blue eyes. Their personalities though were as different as night and day. Dean worked hard and partied hard. And Storm only worked hard.
Dean sat down and dipped his feet inside the pool. For a long time nothing was said between them, and soon Storm grew uncomfortable under his brother’s watchful gaze. He knew any second now Dean would start with the endless questions. So to avoid being put on the spot and his blissfully mundane afternoon turning into sharing time, he quickly deflected the attention elsewhere, "The house looks great. You've been taking good care of it. Mom would be very proud of you."
Dean simply nodded; he could read him like a book. And he knew trying to push him to talk when he was in one of his dark moods was pointless. So he too played along and focused his attention on the mundane, “Kendra's invited some friends over for a small dinner party to celebrate her friend's home coming."
Storm’s eyes darkened to a stormy blue then. He was not pleased with this sudden development. He’d only agreed to come home because Dean had promised him a quiet weekend.
“Come on,” Dean smiled vaguely. “It will be good for you. You know, meeting new people.”
Storm shook his head. He didn’t want to meet new people. He was happy with the few people his work allowed him to have in his life. He didn’t want more people. Didn’t need new friends.
"It’s been two years man; you need to let her go. Emma wouldn't want you to waste your life away like this. Don't you think she'd want you to be happy?" Dean got up from the floor and propped himself on the table, he was suddenly angry at Storm's morose attitude.
"I am happy," Storm stared bleakly at the rippling water in front of him.
"I'm sorry, but you don't look the picture of happiness to me," Dean answered dryly as he sauntered off to the house to get ready for his fiancé’s dinner party…