Takes place after It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester
Losing You
Dean hadn't said anything to Sam about using his powers to banish Samhain. In fact, Dean hadn't said anything at all. Sam half expected him to blow up like he did when he first found out that Sam had used them. Hell, he wanted him to, because it would be better than Dean's silence. It would be better than they way Dean looked at him and then didn't look at him. That pretty much said it all and that was worse. Dean was pissed, sure, and scared, but that look of disappointment had punched a hole in Sam's chest. He still felt guilty and ashamed.
Sam had meant to keep his promise. He really did. He tried to do things his brother's way and use the knife, but when it was knocked away Sam did the only thing he could. Now he began to wonder if it had been worth it to have Dean look at him like that, to have broken his promise to his brother- again. Maybe it was a promise that could never be kept in the first place.
His thoughts were interrupted as Dean reentered the motel room. Sam looked up as Dean walked past him to the other bed where some of his belongings and his duffle bag lay.
"You almost packed?" he asked Sam absently.
"Uh, yeah," Sam said clearing his throat.
Dean began rolling the clothes on his bed and placing them inside his bag as Sam was finishing doing the same.
"Good cause' I want to get the hell out of this town."
Get away from what I did, you mean. Sam knew but only nodded and it was silent again.
"Dean," Sam said cautiously after a moment. Dean looked up at Sam as he seemed to search for what to say next.
"Sam," Dean sighed.
Sam was worried that Dean would be angry and not hear him out, that he would cut him off before he could even try to explain what happened, but he had to let him know.
"I tried. I had the knife, but I lost it in the fight."
"Sam."
Sam continued, knowing his brother's anger, feeling the need to justify. "What would you rather I'd done, let thousands of innocent people die!?
"Sam."
To Sam's surprise his brother's tone didn't seem agitated. He watched his face closely. Dean was hunched over the end of his bed, head hung low. He looked over to Sam.
Dean stood up with a weary sigh and walked closer to where his brother was standing. Sam just watched quizzically and somewhat worriedly, his brow furrowing a little, unsure of what to expect.
Dean now stood a few feet from Sam. He looked down briefly, then back up at his little brother. His expression was fairly blank, but Sam saw no malice in it. If anything he looked tired. His eyes however, showed a glimmer of dejection that Sam could read fairly clearly.
"You once told me that you wished I would just be your brother again."
Sam remembered. Very well.
"I just wish you would be mine again," Dean finished.
Sam caught the catch in Dean's voice and looked to his older brother. Tears now welled in Dean's eyes. They were sorrowful and almost pleading. That mask falling away. Sam's jaw slacked. He hadn't expected this. He watched the inner turmoil on his elder brother's face and felt his eyes sting.
"I mean, the keeping secrets. The lying. These powers or whatever the hell they areā¦" Dean spat, frustrated, as tears began to fall. He shifted. Threw his arms away from his body. It was a helpless gesture, defeated. Dean didn't have to say what he meant. Sam knew.
"I'm losing you," he said through strained vocal cords, as though the words themselves hurt him to say. Sam knew that they did.
Sam just stood there, a tear now sliding down from his watery eyes. Dean was right. There was a distance between them. One that had never been there before. It was foreign and hurtful. It just kept getting bigger and deep down, they both knew it. God, this wasn't what he had wanted. Or was it?
"Dean," he said, voice thick with emotion. Dean turned back to his brother. They held eye contact for a moment before Dean closed the few feet between them and wrapped his little brother in a hard embrace, surprising the hell out of Sam. He put his arms around his brother. It was familiar, safe, comforting, but there was something broken in it, something pulling them apart. He knew what it was.
"I don't wanna lose you, Sammy," Dean said into Sam's shoulder.
Sam just squeezed his brother a little tighter. The truth was, he could offer no words of comfort because he didn't know if he could stop what was happening. He didn't know if he could stop the wedge that kept forcing them further apart, and he didn't want to make any more promises to his brother that he might not be able to keep.
