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He wanted to tell him how much he loved him but he didn't really know how.
He used to, maybe when the both of them were younger, they only had each other, them against the world. It's not like they didn't have each other anymore, everything seemed so much more difficult now. With everything the both of them had gone through, separately and apart, they were different now, and it was hard for Dean to get a read on where exactly Sam was mentally and emotionally. They had never been people who communicated with words much anyways. It had always been actions, quiet glances that said everything they needed. One of them would have a nightmare, every night it seemed, and the other would help, not with words, but with silent reassurance, a hand on the shoulder, or moving slightly closer on the bed that they had to share. (There wasn't enough money to get a room with two singles.)
But Dean could no longer tell of this way of reassurance was enough for his brother. He seemed more closed off than ever, not letting Dean close enough to know how he was really doing. That, in itself, was a testament to Sam's mental state.
Nevertheless, the brothers kept on. And things seemed to right themselves between them, as time went on.