Their expressions are what kill me in this epic king of all hugs more than anything else. Put aside the all-consuming tightness and closeness for a moment and just look at their faces. Dean is in shock, almost scared even. Scared to get his hopes up, scared to believe that he actually has his baby brother back, because if he’s wrong again, it’ll destroy him. His eyes shift as he feels Sam completely envelop around him, his mind trying to process this sudden surge of emotion. His hand moves slow to press against Sam’s back as he realizes that, yeah, this is how Sam hugs. Not that half-assed pat he got 6 months ago when he thought he got Sam back and it wasn’t really him. That “hug” was cold, empty, and downright irking whenever he thinks about it. But this one is all Sammy - oversized body wrapping tightly around him, all but squeezing the air from his lungs, holding his own breath and swaying. Yeah, this is how Sam hugs. And Sam finally lets that breath out when he feels Dean’s palm splay out over his back. Because this is real, and Dean is alive. This isn’t some dream, this isn’t some vision in Heaven, this is Dean in his arms, alive and hugging him back. So he breathes and clamps his eyes shut because he never thought he’d be able to hug his brother again. That was supposed to be it, his swan dive into the pit and that was curtains. But somehow, here he was in Bobby’s house, and they were both alive. Both just so relieved to see one another. Both in shock. Both hesitating to even let go, because their brother might disappear again if they do.