Sam might have needed to get back out there, but Dean needed to be there. He needed something to focus on that didn’t involve death of some kind. Sam needed reassurance that he could save people, but Dean needed to step back away from the chaos that is their life. He just didn’t have a clue as to how to explain that to Sam. Would it be so awful to give his brother this one thing this time? Probably not, but he could already feel his stomach tightening. The idea of abandoning the only thing he knew as being his home here, still broken and damaged, it hit him harder than he thought. Even though he knew it wasn’t for long, he didn’t like the idea of just.. leaving like that.
He stood at the doorway between the front door and the kitchen. The beer held loosely in his hand as he glanced back and forth between his brother and the door. He could have just walked away and ignored Sam. It wouldn’t have been the first time he did that, but being a complete asshole was a bit extreme. “Maybe I don’t want to help anyone right now.” He finally confessed as he looked at his brother. “There’s other hunters. There’s other people out there. Let them do it for once. I just want to get Baby fixed right now.” Besides, he didn’t think that he’d be in the right mind set to leave. “If you need to go do this, then you go do it. I’m not, though. Not right now.”
Sam doesn’t want to leave Dean but he doesn’t have a choice. Not knowing what to say he does’t say anything at all, just nods and goes back to finishing his sandwich. After that it’s upstairs to pack a bag, grab the keys on the counter and head out. He doesn’t say goodbye. He doesn’t go to tell Dean he’s leaving. He just- goes. They’re history with goodbyes aren’t exactly gold star worthy.
The case is an open close deal that doesn’t take long to finish. The ghost of some jilted prom queen had been sending teenagers trying to get lucky on prom night over the cliffs. ‘Lovers Lane’ is what they called it. Sam salted the tiara, burned it, and that was all. It took about a week but it’s not the longest it’s ever taken. If Dean were there they could have wrapped it up in a few days.
Friday night has him heading home to Bobby’s and he rolls in around 8:30. Bobby still isn’t back yet. After parking the car he heads inside to throw his stuff on the couch and finds a note Dean must have written after talking to Bobby. ‘Won’t be back for another week. Don’t worry. Rufus needs help with a rugaroo in Pittsburg’ Sam holds the note in his hand then puts it back on the counter.
He’s about to go outside and check around for Dean when he smells it. “Dean?” He calls “You in here?”
The empty beer was sat back on the table and Dean was left staring at his empty plate. A part of him wanted something else to eat, but the greatest part of him wanted to rush this along and get back outside. Even though he was clean and showered, it didn’t mean he was done working on the car for the day. There was still plenty of daylight and even then, there were the lights outside. He could easily be out there until well after midnight and not seem to mind. It was that or he was going to go nuts. He needed to get the car fixed up and running again as soon as possible. But then what? Stuck in the car with Sam wasn’t that bad, but now that Sam had to make things awkward… well, maybe he should take his time at trying to fix the Impala.
"And what are we going to take? One of the junkers in the yard? I swear to god, Sam, I am not driving another mini van." He was not wanting to go through that again. That damn van was a nightmare. The idea of driving anything that wasn’t his Baby was frustrating. Was it took much to just want to get something back to normal before they tried to pretend they were fine? He sighed, standing up from the table. Grabbing the empty bottle, he tossed it into the trashcan and grabbed his third beer. This time with the intentions of taking it outside with him. "Figure out some more with the hunt and let me know. I might be able to find a junker in the yard that isn’t that freaking ridiculous to drive."
Sam just wanted to get on the road and he wanted Dean to come with him. He didn’t want to be cooped up in Bobby’s house anymore. He wanted to be out. This was good for Dean, maybe, but Sam was going insane. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything about the pills- hell- maybe he should have said more but……Sam has to go.
"Dean I can’t stay here any more. I need to get out- I need to- we need to get back out there." He hadn’t been able to help Dad. He hadn’t been able to help Jess. When Dean needed him most he’d skipped out. Now it felt like there was no one in the world that he could save and Sam needs the reminder that that isn’t true. "There’s a station wagon where Bobby parks his car, keys are on the counter. These people need our help Dean. We can’t just sit around and do nothing."
The shower was exactly what he needed. Washing away all the sweat that had piled up onto him, the dirt and grease, everything was gone and down the drain. Even after he was well washed, Dean stayed in there with the heat of the shower. There were many, many times that this was the only comfort he had. He’d spent that last heat in the shower or bathtub most of the time. It was only when John could convince him to come out to eat that he left the bathroom. It was the worst heat he’d ever gone through and as far as he was concerned, it could be his last. He never wanted to experience that kind of pain again.
Before long the shower began getting cold and with a whine he pulled himself out of the shower. He dried himself off the best he could before slipping into his clean clothes. Even they weren’t exactly the best clothes he had. Stains from working on the car or killing something, rips from being tossed around or on the ground, they were comfortable and nicely worn. The shirt was the same. Stains, rips, holes, everything that made it perfectly comfortable. He raked a hand through his hair to somewhat fix it before walking out of the bathroom. He took the steps slowly, dreading whatever damn conversation Sam was going to try to bring up. If it had to do with them? Dean wasn’t going to mention it. If Sam was interested in making something work between them again, he’d have to be the one to mention it and even then… Dean was doubtful that there would ever be anything other than brothers between them. Even if the omega part of him only wanted his alpha.
"Wow. You didn’t destroy the kitchen." He muttered as he plopped down across the table. The sandwich was immediately picked up. Huge bites were taken, swallowed back with some beer. It was a back and forth motion. Bite of food, drink of beer, swallow. It took him no time to swallow it all down and lean back with a satisfied smirk across his face as he finished his beer. Two beers down and he could feel the warmth of the alcohol rolling around in his stomach.
Sam spent too long sorting out what he wanted to say and when Dean comes downstairs it all just goes right out of his head. He smells clean. There’s no more grease and sweat and for some reason that smell that is inherently his brother is stronger. No more heat Sam’s ass. It was coming. Maybe not tomorrow maybe not this week but it was coming. He can sense the hormones like he never could with Jess. With her, it was always a surprise. One morning she’d wake up and that would be it. He’d make a face, she’d growl, and he’d leave.
"Yeah, didn’t destroy the kitchen" he echoes for lack of anything better to say. Sam sits awkwardly, looking at his food then back up to Dean and right back to his plate. His problem is that he has too much to say and no where near the coherency to say it. Grief will do that to you, rob you of words and muffle them with too strong guilt. So he just sits and watches his plate as if his sandwich will sprout legs and sidle off.
Eventually he rubs his jaw, leans back and looks over at Dean “So there’s a case about 50 miles from here I think we should check out. Might be good to get our heads back in the game.” Dean has a distraction but Sam is left with reading and his thoughts, both of which he can’t focus on at the moment.
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