Dean was munching popcorn and licking butter off his lips when Sam entered. Sam had blood on his mouth. Other than asking if Sam was alright, Dean pretended not to notice.
Watching Sam sit down, Dean changed his focus to the Tv. But now he was thinking. About that blood on Sam's mouth. Everything, really.
Dean remembered it didn't used to be like that. At one time, when something bad happened to Sam, Sam would get angry. Or Sam would get hurt, lash out or make bad judgements. And Dean would pull him to the side, and they would talk. Then, talking actually amounted to something. Now, talking was a Dead. Stalemate. Dean wondered where he had gone wrong, and that resulted in a cinical smirk. Where hadn't he gone wrong? But he had tried, God knew he had tried. And yet, and yet that wasn't good enough. And now he was forced to sit still and quiet, not making a fuss, while his baby brother Sam went through the "trials". Translation: Lots of stuff that will hurt. And Sam didn't want to talk about it, and Dean knew he couldn't make it better. Sam was doing the trials, no matter the damage he'd recieve for passing through them. And everything Dean said translated into: "I'll remind you about how bad you're life's gonna be because of the trials." So there it sat, the mother of all elephants in the room. Sam had put up a wall, and Dean couldn't climb it.
What were they really? Brothers? Or two strangers sitting in a room, bonded by bump in the nighties and differences that could fill the Grand Canyon? Dean had abandoned Sam over and over, and Sam did the same. And there were things that tore them apart. Hell, for instance. And there were deaths. Lies. Beer. Drinking. More walls. Fights. Hurtful words were exchanged. It all seemed so repetitive. So...heartbreaking.
Did Sam hate him, for failing him as a big brother? Dean couldn't-he just couldn't.
"Where are you going?" Sam asked curiously.
"..." Dean's throat was sandpaper as he stumbled towards the door. Talking would give him away.
"Dean?" Sam asked.
Dean turned open the door, walking outside. He shut it without responding. Where was he going? What was he doing? Something crazy.
