Title: Silence
Author: Indigo Night
Feedback: Yes please
Summary: He didn't want Sam to go, but for some reason all he could do was stand and watch it happen in silence.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters
Spoilers: …For the pilot I guess.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Author's Note: Yet more random angst. My brain must start getting really bored after midnight, because that's when all these random angsty bits seem to happen. Anyways, reviews equal L.O.V.E.
"I'm going."
"Like hell you are, boy."
"You can't stop me!"
"Watch me!"
"I'm an adult now. You're just pissed because you can't control me anymore!"
They were standing all of two feet apart, screaming in each other's faces. Sam sounded childish; John was being irrational. Both were too lost in their anger to care.
Dean just watched.
So, Sam and dad were fighting, what else was new? Normally, Dean would be edging his way in between them, trying, pretty fruitlessly, to calm them down. This time, he couldn't muster the energy to try. He was still reeling from Sam's announcement himself.
Sam was leaving. His Sammy, all grown up and abandoning him for the large world. He'd gotten a full ride at Stanford. Sam was going to college.
Dean had lost track of what exactly dad and Sam were screaming, his head throbbing with their raised voices, longing just to scream himself, to demand that they stop, to make everything go back to the simpler times when Sam had been young and had trusted his father and older brother inexplicably. But he didn't. He just stood there and stared.
Next thing he knew Sam was pushing past him roughly, and for a moment he felt his heart flutter, as he was sure that Sam had given in and was going to sulk. But as Sam reappeared only moments later, and his dad yelled those final words, and he knew his heart wouldn't be doing any more fluttering any time soon, if ever again.
"If you leave now, boy, don't you dare come back!" John's face was scarlet with rage. Sam's was too. Dean's was whiter than flesh snow.
"I wasn't planning to," Sam bit back scathingly. But he stopped, just for a moment, his hand hovering over the door handle, his eyes locked on Dean's. Neither of them said a word, but their eyes, that silent communication that had never failed them before was on in full force.
You're really leaving?
You're really just standing there? You're not even going to try and stop me?
You don't love me enough to stay?
You don't love me enough to let me go?
But for the first time in both of their lives, the communication failed. The cables that held there silent bonds were broken, and after the moment had passed, heart breaking and empty, Sam turned and walked out the door.
Dean wanted to run after Sam, to beg him to stay, but he didn't. He stood there, staring at the closed door for a long time, before slowly, sadly, turning and disappearing into the room that had once been his and Sam's, but now was as empty and cold as Dean was.
The voices had finally stopped; Dean couldn't help but think bitterly that night, as he lay awake in bed. No more yelling, or bickering, or huffing. Just muffled, hollow, stifling silence.