Ash Wednesday - Chapter 3
May. 5th, 2007 05:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runedgirlTitle:Ash Wednesday - Chapter 2
Pairings/Characters:Sam/Dean
Rating:NC-17
Summary: Summary:I began this on Ash Wednesday, wondering what Dean would give up for Lent. Sam has visions. Dean finds out what that necklace is really for. Oh, and the boys have sex!
Notes/Warnings:The w-word, angst, angst about the w-word.
Disclaimer:Alas, they're mine only in my head
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
When Sam woke up the next morning the first thing he remembered was what he wanted to forget. Yesterday. The shower. Breaking down. What he didn’t remember clearly was what Dean saw, knew. Sam was aware that Dean had found him, had dried him off, helped him into bed. He also knew that he had allowed Dean’s touch, had, even in his despair (because of his despair?) thrilled to it. But he could only guess at what Dean thought of it all. Or rather he couldn’t guess. Dean kept his own thoughts and emotions locked up so tightly that it was almost impossible to tell with Dean most of the time. He lay for a long time conscious yet afraid to open his eyes. That meant he’d have to look at Dean and Dean might ask questions and what was he supposed to say? Even something as simple as “Are you alright?” was unanswerable.
As he hid behind his eyelids, Sam heard Dean’s cell phone ring, listened to his brother say “Where?” then assure someone that they would be there, wherever there was, as soon as they could. Next thing he knew Dean’s hand was on his bare shoulder, shaking him awake. The touch was unexpected and Sam drew in an involuntary breath.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Not scared,” Sam responded.
“Ok, whatever. We have to go.”
“Go where? Why?”
“Ellen’s. Ash just called.” Dean wasn’t sure how to put the next bit of information. No matter how he said it, it wasn’t going to be good. “There are signs.”
“The Demon?”
“Yeah Sammy, Ash thinks it going to turn up again. Soon.”
Sam started to get up and then realized he was naked - stopped for a moment and looked around for something to cover himself with.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m - “
“What, like I’ve never seen you naked before Sam? C’mon.”
Dean’s “all business” attitude was, for once, a welcome relief. He wasn’t going to ask for explanations, he wasn’t interested in having Sam bare his soul. He just wanted to get on with things. No accounting for his lost night last night, no accounting for his hard on this morning brought on by watching Dean move purposefully around the room in just his boxers, no accounting for anything. Maybe Dean’s way was better.
“Sam!”
“Yeah, right, coming.”
. . . .
It was another silent drive. Each of the brothers was wrapped in his own thoughts. Dean was more than happy to have something to focus on - something other than what he was afraid was the beginning of his brother’s descent into madness - or worse. For Sam though, the silence was what was driving him over the edge. He might have been relieved back in the hotel room, but as the hours dragged and the miles added up he was growing more and more restive. He wanted to scream, to run, yeah - to run, to do anything except sit in the passenger seat and go along on Dean’s ride a moment longer.
“Stop the car.”
“Huh?” Dean looked around. They were on a wooded stretch of highway, miles from anywhere. There was nothing to stop *for*. “Tree break?” Dean grinned, thinking the six cups of coffee Sam had already consumed were finally getting to him.
“I just need - stop the car Dean.”
Dean knew that tone. Without further protest he slid the car onto the side of the road and coasted to a stop. Almost before the car had stopped moving, Sam was out the door, walking away fast. He had already turned on his own footsteps, raking a big hand through his hair, by the time Dean got out of the car and came towards him. At the sight of his brother, Sam turned on his heel and walked the other way again.
“Sam - “
“I just need - “ Sam kept stopping at that point. What did he need? And if he knew, could he say it? Could he ask? Who?
“Sammy, what’s the matter?”
Dean’s voice saying “Sammy” made him snap. He stopped his pacing and just stared at his brother who was clearly beginning to be frightened by what he was seeing. No one else called him Sammy. Not Jessica, not anyone. Dean was the only one he would allow.
“I need - “ Sam’s eyes were welling up with tears. He tried to hold them in, the effort hurting his jaw and most of the muscles in his face. He didn’t think he’d be able to keep it up for long. He was sliding again, just like last night, sliding into his pain. No, not sliding. It was pulling him in, pulling him down. Sam sunk to his knees and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“Sam! What? A vision?” Dean was by his side before he had finished speaking. He had Sam by his shoulders, holding him up, supporting him.
“No.” There was nothing reassuring in the way Sam reassured Dean that it wasn’t yet another gruesome vision of death. Dean could have dealt with that. They’d dealt with it before. This was different and Dean was at a loss. Tentatively, because he had little experience with comforting anyone, he moved his hands off Sam’s shoulders and gathered him into an embrace, allowing his little brother to slump against him. Sam lowered his hands but still did not open his eyes. Dean was close enough to see the wet lashes.
After a few minutes Sam took in a deep breath. “I’m ok.” He opened his eyes and looked directly into Dean’s, so close their noses were almost touching.
“The hell you are. What just happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you actually think I’m buying that?”
“What did you give up?”
“What?”
“You went to church. You let them put those ashes on your head. Must mean you’re trying to do penance. So what did you give up? For Lent?”
“I - “
Both of them waited to hear how Dean was going to answer this one. Dean stared at Sam for a few moments, mouth slightly open, searching for words until it dawned on him what Sam was trying to do. Sam was only going to open up to him if he responded in kind. And how could he do that? How could he confess to Sam what he had given up, and why? Dean’s blind impulse was to grab his brother, kiss him, rake his body with hands and mouth. His coldly rational side told him it would be the death of them both. In that moment of hesitation between lust and reason he saw Sam’s eyes, registering concern, fear, and just the hint of - well, whatever it was, it was gone now - went dead. He had given up.
“Nothing.” Dean said,`confirming what Sam already knew.
“And I’m fine.” Sam stood up and began walking back to the car. Dean watched him go, wanting so desperately to call him back, explain, hold him again. But he didn’t. Instead he too walked toward the car and got in.
The rest of the ride to Ellen’s was just as silent.
Part IV
Ellen looked up from the bar when the door opened. She had learned a long time ago to be always wary, always vigilant and always near a gun. She visibly relaxed when she saw Dean and then Sam walk in.
“Hey boys.” A warm smile crossed her face before she got a better look them. It faded immediately, replaced by a maternal concern she could not keep down, even if they were not her boys. “You two ok?”
Dean answered for them. “Just dandy.” Sam gave Ellen a look that for one brief moment seemed to scream “We are not ok, don’t believe a word he says,” before he managed to stifle it and nod weakly in agreement.
“Beer?”
“Two,” Dean said even as Ellen was reaching for the bottles. She put them on the bar in front of her and Dean took them both before walking off to look for Ash. It was clear Sam was going to have to get his own. Ellen looked from Sam to Dean and then back to Sam. “Two for you too?”
“No, one will do.” Sam sat at the bar and began studying the bottle as if the vital clue to all their problems was encoded on the label and all he needed was to concentrate hard enough to find it.
Meanwhile Dean had gone to the backroom Ash called home. Since both of his hands were occupied with beer bottles he “knocked” with his foot. “Hey Ash. Don’t answer the door man unless you’re wearing pants.” Dean heard fumbling and perhaps falling and then a long silence before the door opened and Ash poked his head out, looked at Dean, looked at the two beers in his hands, and licked his lips. Dean looked down and sighed before handing one over. He had been intending to drink both himself.
“So Dean, what are you doing here?”
“You called us Ash.” Normally Dean was amused by Ash’s combination of genius intelligence and spaciness but he was just too pissed at the moment be amused at much of anything.
“Right. Right. We need to talk.” And then Ash disappeared back into his room. More fumbling noises, another long silence - long enough for Dean to start to wonder whether Ash had fallen asleep, followed by a few muttered curses and then Ash reappeared with his souped up laptop in one hand and the beer bottle, now almost empty, in the other. He pushed past Dean and moved toward the bar, Dean following sullenly behind.
When they got there, Sam was still sitting staring at his beer bottle but Ellen was close to him now. When Dean and Ash came over Ellen moved away but Dean could see that she had been holding Sam’s hand. Sam turned away, lifted the bottle to his lips and downed the rest of it in one long gulp. Dean saw his shoulders square before he turned back.
Ash was already talking and Dean had to force himself to listen. The demon was coming. Soon. All the signs seemed to be pointing to a small town in Pennsylvania though Ash was getting conflicting information on that. For a while the signs had seemed to point to the town Sam and Dean had just left. And in the last twelve hours the signs had started pointing to the area right around Ellen’s roadhouse. Ash was working on it, but he figured it would take another nine hours to pinpoint.
It was already past closing by the time they arrived and there was no place else to go by that time. When Ellen offered up that room out back again Sam and Dean really didn’t have a choice. They thanked her (Dean more reluctantly than Sam) and headed out to the car to get their bags. Once they were outside Dean grabbed Sam’s arm.
“Dude, what’s with you and Ellen? Was she coming on to you or something?”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“She was holding your hand and - “
“Shut up Dean!”
“Hey, I’m not judging here.”
“Dean, I mean it. Just drop it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
They got what they needed from the car - their bags, Sam’s laptop, a few weapons (you never knew) and went back inside. Ellen was just turning off the lights. “Night Sam. Dean.” She stopped, then said more hesitantly, “Boys.”
When Dean turned around, “Yeah, Ellen?” she seemed to have lost her resolve.
“Nothing. Sleep well.”
“Thanks,” Dean said and they walked back to their room. Sam turned to look over his shoulder on his way back, catching Ellen’s eye for just a second. It was enough. Again Ellen saw the anguish there, burning, blazing. She opened her mouth again to say something, but really, what could she say. She still didn’t really know what was going on, and even if she had known she doubted there would be anything she could say to make it better.
When they opened the door to the room Ellen had pointed out to them they both froze. Dean was the first in but Sam could see over his shoulder. One bed. A big one, but one bed. Sam felt his stomach knotting.
“Aww, man. I have to share a bed with you,” Dean whined. “You hog the blankets.”
“How do you know?” Sam asked.
“You used to when you were a kid, remember?”
Sam did remember. How could he not? All those nights when they were little, all the hotel rooms, the boys sharing one of the queen sized beds while John took the other. Even if John was away when they went to bed, they’d still sleep together. They said to themselves it was just in case John got back in the middle of the night, but really it was because both of them liked the closeness of the other, the warmth, the humanness. They joked and complained but they wouldn’t have changed it. When Sam went to Stanford neither one of them slept well for weeks, missing the other’s body, their breathing, their touch.
“I don’t anymore,” Sam said slowly, sadly as he entered the room and threw his bag down.
Unlike their usual hotel rooms, there was no bathroom here that they could disappear into to change. Usually this wouldn’t have been a problem. They were brothers. They’d been living together for almost two years now and they had certainly seen a lot of each other - quite literally - during that time. But there was a new sense of awkwardness to their undressing in front of each other that neither really cared to examine. The silence was thicker than ever and Dean was the first to crack.
“OK - not fine.”
“What?” Sam said, looking up from the buttons of his shirt that he had been taking a very long time to undo.
“You. Ellen. What’s going on?”
“I told you - “
“I’m not an idiot Sam.”
“No?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Just drop it Dean, ok?”
“No, it’s not ok Sam.” Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulder to force him to looked at him.
“Fine, then, fine,” Sam said, getting as pissed at his brother’s persistence now as he had been pissed at his avoidance all day. “You want to know what Ellen and I were talking about? I asked her about Bill. About when Dad and Bill - I wanted to know when it happened.”
“Why?”
“I was trying to figure something out.”
“What?” Dean was beyond exasperated with his brother at this point. “Just tell me!”
“I was trying to figure out why Dad stopped - “ Sam’s eyes glazed over with tears and he had to stop, breathing deeply, before he could go on. Dean backed off a bit to let him regain control. “When we were kids the way Dad raised us.”
“Yeah - like warriors. You’ve said that before.”
“No, but - don’t you remember? I was nine, you were thirteen. Dad came back from a hunting trip and he was - different. He stopped touching us, hugging us. He was distant.”
“Sam, Dad was never the touchy feely sort, you know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But this was different - even for him. That’s when he started in with the whole self-reliance thing. We weren’t supposed to depend on anyone, to need anyone.”
Dean looked away from Sam. He did remember. At the time he figured it was just the next phase of their training. He was thirteen after all. It never occurred to him that his brother would have seen things differently.
“That’s when Bill died. You know how he kept pushing people away. Why do you think that was? All those people who tried to help him? One by one he shut them out. Shut *us* out.”
“He was protecting them. Protecting us.”
“Yeah well, sometimes protection can do more damage than good.” Sam said angrily. “I’m not like that, Dean. I know I disappointed him. I know he thought I was weak. So did you.” Sam said that last bit in a lower tone and turned away.
“I didn’t.”
“No? How about all that stuff you said about me wanting a normal life, getting married, having a real family.”
“We *are* a real family!”
“Yeah, a real screwed up family.”
“I didn’t think you were weak. I was jealous.”
“Of me?”
“Of course of you! You had Jessica. What the hell did I have Sam? One night stands with people whose names I never knew most of the time? You had a relationship. I had hook ups”
“You had Cassie,” Sam said quietly. “At least you told her the truth.”
“Yeah, and look how well that turned out. I don’t see her here with me.”
“I didn’t,” Sam said, even more quietly so that Dean had to strain to hear him.
“Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t have a relationship. With Jessica. I never told her the truth, I never let her get close. I couldn’t.”
“And you think that’s because of Dad?”
“No.”
“Well then?”
“Please Dean. Let’s just go to sleep, ok. I’m tired.”
“This isn’t over Sammy.”
Dean walked over to the door and hit the light switch on the wall there then walked back to the bed, discarding his shirt on the way and then slipping out of his jeans before sliding in under the blanket. Sam sat on the edge of the bed in the darkness for a while. Dean listened to every breath his brother took, alert to the change in the patterns, how they became more erratic, raspier. Then he felt the bed shift as Sam stood up and lifted his shirt over his head. He turned for a moment knowing Sam was facing away from him to see his brother’s torso highlighted in the moonlight pouring in through the window. He turned quickly away as Sam undid his belt and stepped out of his pants. The bed shifted again and Sam was laying next to him. Six years erased in a moment.
Chapter Four
Pairings/Characters:Sam/Dean
Rating:NC-17
Summary: Summary:I began this on Ash Wednesday, wondering what Dean would give up for Lent. Sam has visions. Dean finds out what that necklace is really for. Oh, and the boys have sex!
Notes/Warnings:The w-word, angst, angst about the w-word.
Disclaimer:Alas, they're mine only in my head
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
When Sam woke up the next morning the first thing he remembered was what he wanted to forget. Yesterday. The shower. Breaking down. What he didn’t remember clearly was what Dean saw, knew. Sam was aware that Dean had found him, had dried him off, helped him into bed. He also knew that he had allowed Dean’s touch, had, even in his despair (because of his despair?) thrilled to it. But he could only guess at what Dean thought of it all. Or rather he couldn’t guess. Dean kept his own thoughts and emotions locked up so tightly that it was almost impossible to tell with Dean most of the time. He lay for a long time conscious yet afraid to open his eyes. That meant he’d have to look at Dean and Dean might ask questions and what was he supposed to say? Even something as simple as “Are you alright?” was unanswerable.
As he hid behind his eyelids, Sam heard Dean’s cell phone ring, listened to his brother say “Where?” then assure someone that they would be there, wherever there was, as soon as they could. Next thing he knew Dean’s hand was on his bare shoulder, shaking him awake. The touch was unexpected and Sam drew in an involuntary breath.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Not scared,” Sam responded.
“Ok, whatever. We have to go.”
“Go where? Why?”
“Ellen’s. Ash just called.” Dean wasn’t sure how to put the next bit of information. No matter how he said it, it wasn’t going to be good. “There are signs.”
“The Demon?”
“Yeah Sammy, Ash thinks it going to turn up again. Soon.”
Sam started to get up and then realized he was naked - stopped for a moment and looked around for something to cover himself with.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m - “
“What, like I’ve never seen you naked before Sam? C’mon.”
Dean’s “all business” attitude was, for once, a welcome relief. He wasn’t going to ask for explanations, he wasn’t interested in having Sam bare his soul. He just wanted to get on with things. No accounting for his lost night last night, no accounting for his hard on this morning brought on by watching Dean move purposefully around the room in just his boxers, no accounting for anything. Maybe Dean’s way was better.
“Sam!”
“Yeah, right, coming.”
. . . .
It was another silent drive. Each of the brothers was wrapped in his own thoughts. Dean was more than happy to have something to focus on - something other than what he was afraid was the beginning of his brother’s descent into madness - or worse. For Sam though, the silence was what was driving him over the edge. He might have been relieved back in the hotel room, but as the hours dragged and the miles added up he was growing more and more restive. He wanted to scream, to run, yeah - to run, to do anything except sit in the passenger seat and go along on Dean’s ride a moment longer.
“Stop the car.”
“Huh?” Dean looked around. They were on a wooded stretch of highway, miles from anywhere. There was nothing to stop *for*. “Tree break?” Dean grinned, thinking the six cups of coffee Sam had already consumed were finally getting to him.
“I just need - stop the car Dean.”
Dean knew that tone. Without further protest he slid the car onto the side of the road and coasted to a stop. Almost before the car had stopped moving, Sam was out the door, walking away fast. He had already turned on his own footsteps, raking a big hand through his hair, by the time Dean got out of the car and came towards him. At the sight of his brother, Sam turned on his heel and walked the other way again.
“Sam - “
“I just need - “ Sam kept stopping at that point. What did he need? And if he knew, could he say it? Could he ask? Who?
“Sammy, what’s the matter?”
Dean’s voice saying “Sammy” made him snap. He stopped his pacing and just stared at his brother who was clearly beginning to be frightened by what he was seeing. No one else called him Sammy. Not Jessica, not anyone. Dean was the only one he would allow.
“I need - “ Sam’s eyes were welling up with tears. He tried to hold them in, the effort hurting his jaw and most of the muscles in his face. He didn’t think he’d be able to keep it up for long. He was sliding again, just like last night, sliding into his pain. No, not sliding. It was pulling him in, pulling him down. Sam sunk to his knees and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“Sam! What? A vision?” Dean was by his side before he had finished speaking. He had Sam by his shoulders, holding him up, supporting him.
“No.” There was nothing reassuring in the way Sam reassured Dean that it wasn’t yet another gruesome vision of death. Dean could have dealt with that. They’d dealt with it before. This was different and Dean was at a loss. Tentatively, because he had little experience with comforting anyone, he moved his hands off Sam’s shoulders and gathered him into an embrace, allowing his little brother to slump against him. Sam lowered his hands but still did not open his eyes. Dean was close enough to see the wet lashes.
After a few minutes Sam took in a deep breath. “I’m ok.” He opened his eyes and looked directly into Dean’s, so close their noses were almost touching.
“The hell you are. What just happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you actually think I’m buying that?”
“What did you give up?”
“What?”
“You went to church. You let them put those ashes on your head. Must mean you’re trying to do penance. So what did you give up? For Lent?”
“I - “
Both of them waited to hear how Dean was going to answer this one. Dean stared at Sam for a few moments, mouth slightly open, searching for words until it dawned on him what Sam was trying to do. Sam was only going to open up to him if he responded in kind. And how could he do that? How could he confess to Sam what he had given up, and why? Dean’s blind impulse was to grab his brother, kiss him, rake his body with hands and mouth. His coldly rational side told him it would be the death of them both. In that moment of hesitation between lust and reason he saw Sam’s eyes, registering concern, fear, and just the hint of - well, whatever it was, it was gone now - went dead. He had given up.
“Nothing.” Dean said,`confirming what Sam already knew.
“And I’m fine.” Sam stood up and began walking back to the car. Dean watched him go, wanting so desperately to call him back, explain, hold him again. But he didn’t. Instead he too walked toward the car and got in.
The rest of the ride to Ellen’s was just as silent.
Part IV
Ellen looked up from the bar when the door opened. She had learned a long time ago to be always wary, always vigilant and always near a gun. She visibly relaxed when she saw Dean and then Sam walk in.
“Hey boys.” A warm smile crossed her face before she got a better look them. It faded immediately, replaced by a maternal concern she could not keep down, even if they were not her boys. “You two ok?”
Dean answered for them. “Just dandy.” Sam gave Ellen a look that for one brief moment seemed to scream “We are not ok, don’t believe a word he says,” before he managed to stifle it and nod weakly in agreement.
“Beer?”
“Two,” Dean said even as Ellen was reaching for the bottles. She put them on the bar in front of her and Dean took them both before walking off to look for Ash. It was clear Sam was going to have to get his own. Ellen looked from Sam to Dean and then back to Sam. “Two for you too?”
“No, one will do.” Sam sat at the bar and began studying the bottle as if the vital clue to all their problems was encoded on the label and all he needed was to concentrate hard enough to find it.
Meanwhile Dean had gone to the backroom Ash called home. Since both of his hands were occupied with beer bottles he “knocked” with his foot. “Hey Ash. Don’t answer the door man unless you’re wearing pants.” Dean heard fumbling and perhaps falling and then a long silence before the door opened and Ash poked his head out, looked at Dean, looked at the two beers in his hands, and licked his lips. Dean looked down and sighed before handing one over. He had been intending to drink both himself.
“So Dean, what are you doing here?”
“You called us Ash.” Normally Dean was amused by Ash’s combination of genius intelligence and spaciness but he was just too pissed at the moment be amused at much of anything.
“Right. Right. We need to talk.” And then Ash disappeared back into his room. More fumbling noises, another long silence - long enough for Dean to start to wonder whether Ash had fallen asleep, followed by a few muttered curses and then Ash reappeared with his souped up laptop in one hand and the beer bottle, now almost empty, in the other. He pushed past Dean and moved toward the bar, Dean following sullenly behind.
When they got there, Sam was still sitting staring at his beer bottle but Ellen was close to him now. When Dean and Ash came over Ellen moved away but Dean could see that she had been holding Sam’s hand. Sam turned away, lifted the bottle to his lips and downed the rest of it in one long gulp. Dean saw his shoulders square before he turned back.
Ash was already talking and Dean had to force himself to listen. The demon was coming. Soon. All the signs seemed to be pointing to a small town in Pennsylvania though Ash was getting conflicting information on that. For a while the signs had seemed to point to the town Sam and Dean had just left. And in the last twelve hours the signs had started pointing to the area right around Ellen’s roadhouse. Ash was working on it, but he figured it would take another nine hours to pinpoint.
It was already past closing by the time they arrived and there was no place else to go by that time. When Ellen offered up that room out back again Sam and Dean really didn’t have a choice. They thanked her (Dean more reluctantly than Sam) and headed out to the car to get their bags. Once they were outside Dean grabbed Sam’s arm.
“Dude, what’s with you and Ellen? Was she coming on to you or something?”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“She was holding your hand and - “
“Shut up Dean!”
“Hey, I’m not judging here.”
“Dean, I mean it. Just drop it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
They got what they needed from the car - their bags, Sam’s laptop, a few weapons (you never knew) and went back inside. Ellen was just turning off the lights. “Night Sam. Dean.” She stopped, then said more hesitantly, “Boys.”
When Dean turned around, “Yeah, Ellen?” she seemed to have lost her resolve.
“Nothing. Sleep well.”
“Thanks,” Dean said and they walked back to their room. Sam turned to look over his shoulder on his way back, catching Ellen’s eye for just a second. It was enough. Again Ellen saw the anguish there, burning, blazing. She opened her mouth again to say something, but really, what could she say. She still didn’t really know what was going on, and even if she had known she doubted there would be anything she could say to make it better.
When they opened the door to the room Ellen had pointed out to them they both froze. Dean was the first in but Sam could see over his shoulder. One bed. A big one, but one bed. Sam felt his stomach knotting.
“Aww, man. I have to share a bed with you,” Dean whined. “You hog the blankets.”
“How do you know?” Sam asked.
“You used to when you were a kid, remember?”
Sam did remember. How could he not? All those nights when they were little, all the hotel rooms, the boys sharing one of the queen sized beds while John took the other. Even if John was away when they went to bed, they’d still sleep together. They said to themselves it was just in case John got back in the middle of the night, but really it was because both of them liked the closeness of the other, the warmth, the humanness. They joked and complained but they wouldn’t have changed it. When Sam went to Stanford neither one of them slept well for weeks, missing the other’s body, their breathing, their touch.
“I don’t anymore,” Sam said slowly, sadly as he entered the room and threw his bag down.
Unlike their usual hotel rooms, there was no bathroom here that they could disappear into to change. Usually this wouldn’t have been a problem. They were brothers. They’d been living together for almost two years now and they had certainly seen a lot of each other - quite literally - during that time. But there was a new sense of awkwardness to their undressing in front of each other that neither really cared to examine. The silence was thicker than ever and Dean was the first to crack.
“OK - not fine.”
“What?” Sam said, looking up from the buttons of his shirt that he had been taking a very long time to undo.
“You. Ellen. What’s going on?”
“I told you - “
“I’m not an idiot Sam.”
“No?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Just drop it Dean, ok?”
“No, it’s not ok Sam.” Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulder to force him to looked at him.
“Fine, then, fine,” Sam said, getting as pissed at his brother’s persistence now as he had been pissed at his avoidance all day. “You want to know what Ellen and I were talking about? I asked her about Bill. About when Dad and Bill - I wanted to know when it happened.”
“Why?”
“I was trying to figure something out.”
“What?” Dean was beyond exasperated with his brother at this point. “Just tell me!”
“I was trying to figure out why Dad stopped - “ Sam’s eyes glazed over with tears and he had to stop, breathing deeply, before he could go on. Dean backed off a bit to let him regain control. “When we were kids the way Dad raised us.”
“Yeah - like warriors. You’ve said that before.”
“No, but - don’t you remember? I was nine, you were thirteen. Dad came back from a hunting trip and he was - different. He stopped touching us, hugging us. He was distant.”
“Sam, Dad was never the touchy feely sort, you know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But this was different - even for him. That’s when he started in with the whole self-reliance thing. We weren’t supposed to depend on anyone, to need anyone.”
Dean looked away from Sam. He did remember. At the time he figured it was just the next phase of their training. He was thirteen after all. It never occurred to him that his brother would have seen things differently.
“That’s when Bill died. You know how he kept pushing people away. Why do you think that was? All those people who tried to help him? One by one he shut them out. Shut *us* out.”
“He was protecting them. Protecting us.”
“Yeah well, sometimes protection can do more damage than good.” Sam said angrily. “I’m not like that, Dean. I know I disappointed him. I know he thought I was weak. So did you.” Sam said that last bit in a lower tone and turned away.
“I didn’t.”
“No? How about all that stuff you said about me wanting a normal life, getting married, having a real family.”
“We *are* a real family!”
“Yeah, a real screwed up family.”
“I didn’t think you were weak. I was jealous.”
“Of me?”
“Of course of you! You had Jessica. What the hell did I have Sam? One night stands with people whose names I never knew most of the time? You had a relationship. I had hook ups”
“You had Cassie,” Sam said quietly. “At least you told her the truth.”
“Yeah, and look how well that turned out. I don’t see her here with me.”
“I didn’t,” Sam said, even more quietly so that Dean had to strain to hear him.
“Didn’t what?”
“Didn’t have a relationship. With Jessica. I never told her the truth, I never let her get close. I couldn’t.”
“And you think that’s because of Dad?”
“No.”
“Well then?”
“Please Dean. Let’s just go to sleep, ok. I’m tired.”
“This isn’t over Sammy.”
Dean walked over to the door and hit the light switch on the wall there then walked back to the bed, discarding his shirt on the way and then slipping out of his jeans before sliding in under the blanket. Sam sat on the edge of the bed in the darkness for a while. Dean listened to every breath his brother took, alert to the change in the patterns, how they became more erratic, raspier. Then he felt the bed shift as Sam stood up and lifted his shirt over his head. He turned for a moment knowing Sam was facing away from him to see his brother’s torso highlighted in the moonlight pouring in through the window. He turned quickly away as Sam undid his belt and stepped out of his pants. The bed shifted again and Sam was laying next to him. Six years erased in a moment.
Chapter Four
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 12:40 am (UTC)I took a chance on this story and I'm glad I did. Looking forward to more.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 04:54 pm (UTC)Cheers,
Kat
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 05:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 02:48 am (UTC)I am loving this story. Please update soon!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 05:09 pm (UTC)Cheers,
Kat
Your evil
Date: 2007-05-06 03:08 am (UTC)Re: Your evil
Date: 2007-05-06 05:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 08:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-06 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 02:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 10:55 am (UTC)Cheers,
Kat
no subject
Date: 2007-05-10 11:10 pm (UTC)Oh, this is so Sam that it hurts.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 11:56 pm (UTC)You can't end it there!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-19 07:01 am (UTC)gaaaaaa
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.
.
.
.
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this is just way to gooooood
please update soon
or ill burst
no subject
Date: 2007-05-19 06:27 pm (UTC)Cheers,
Kat
no subject
Date: 2007-05-21 02:03 am (UTC)bursting is know gone but is replaced with
NEED
no subject
Date: 2007-08-18 01:14 pm (UTC)I'm really enjoying this. I just love the fics that are pre-slash with the angst to the wahzoo! Just awesome!
no subject
Date: 2009-01-23 04:59 am (UTC)xxx
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 05:25 pm (UTC)The story has been neither forgotten nor abandoned - it's just been Kripked:) I *am* getting ready to go back to it though - there should be another installment soon.
Cheers,
Kat
no subject
Date: 2009-01-26 05:35 pm (UTC)Cheers,
Kat