Authors note:
Still a beta down, this is turning into a real issue! But while I search for the perfect one in the meantime continue to excuse my lack of editing, I'm not to good at it. Anyway, this is another very short fic, its rather old, been lost on my destop for about a year so now that its been dragged into the light of day enjoy and review.
November Envy xox
Nothing but Sam, Dean and the Impala as she speed down the open road. It was the times like this, in between jobs and towns where the road spread long and wide that Dean valued the most in his life. Who needed the apple pie life when there was this?
Sam had fallen asleep, his head lolling, slightly tilted towards his window. The melodic sound of his deep breathing and minor facial movements, a twitch of a lip or a brief appearance of those innocent, well loved dimples, were like symphony of fine music to Dean's eyes and ears. Granted, Dean considered fine music to consist of Black Sabbath, AC/DC and Metallica, but that didn't mean he didn't like soft and slow and warm when it came to the music that he imagined as Sam. Dam, though if he ever said that allowed he'd drag his own sorry arse back to hell willingly, he was appalled enough that he'd even thought it in the privacy of his own mind. It felt filthy; he needed to decapitate a vampire or something to purify himself. Maybe empty a few rounds of rock salt into Casper?
Dean glanced back over to his slumbering brother only to end up belting the wheel in frustration, Sam looked so perfect, almost immaculate, it didn't matter what Cas or Bobby said, Sam wasn't an abomination. How could he be? Dean had been wrong to ever think him a monster, to ever call Sammy that. At the time he'd felt justified, but now when he looked back he just felt plain lousy. All he had to do was look at the kid and he knew in his heart and soul that deep down, behind it all, that Sam was a person to good to walk the same earth as Dean. Dean now knew although Sam fought inner demons his whole life, and had gone out of his way to deify and question their dad, he was still more of a person than Dean. The angels had shown him that. The way they followed God's every whimsical order, and fair enough, hey the man is God, but honestly some of his choices seemed pretty dam shitty to Dean, and somebody needed to question or doubt that cloud happy fool, but none of the angels, save Lucifer, had had the balls to do it. The only problem is along the way Lucifer became so wrapped up in his own hate and spite that he formed into a whole new type of monster, kinda like Sam had come so damn close to becoming, maybe that's the sacrifice for doubting, becoming so wrapped up in doubts and endless worries that you become restless for an easy escape route, fast quick answers that seem well intended at the time but prove to be monstrous in the end.
But that didn't make Sammy evil, it could just be filed down to a mistake. Everyone made mistakes, even God and the angels, that much had been proven. Either way Dean looked at it, it always boiled down to the fact that Sam had the balls to stand up and question Dad, life, morals and Dean hadn't, Dean had fallen inline like a good little soldier. Which in the end was exactly what he despised the angles (well expect Cas and maybe Anna.) for. Dean took a deep breath and turned back to his unconscious little brother. Sometimes gazing at Sam, Dean could lose himself in his own thoughts, in his own doubts and questions that he hid so well, unlike his brother who let his implode out and rip his and Dean's life to shreds. That was why Dean liked better to ignore them, and play pretend they didn't exist, it was either that or losing the plot, Dean didn't have the capacity like Sam to understand and comprehend this crap, he didn't want to over analyse anything that could be left behind and just forgotten. Doubts and questions where dangerous, Ruby had shown Sam that, and Sam had reinforced that for Dean. But yet staring at Sam while he slept so peacefully left Dean facing down his biggest questions; possibly the most explosive, dangerous ones. Biting his lip Dean suddenly found he couldn't drive anymore, his hands where shaking, his mind reeling and his thought process on overload. Spying an old dirt back road up ahead Dean veered towards it, travelled down it one or two kilometres and then coming to a halt on the side of the dusty stretch of gravel. When the Impala finally rolled to a stop Dean sat wide eyed, breathing heavily with both hands firmly gripping the wheel, his knuckles flushing a light white shade his grip was so tight. Sam slept on, oblivious to the hell he was creating right besides him.
Stupid Sammy!
Stupid, stupid kid!
Why couldn't the kid just leave things alone, huh? Why did he always have to question this or that, and why on earth did he have to rope poor innocent Dean into it? Hadn't the big oaf ever heard of 'ignorance is bliss'? Dam, dam it all to hell and back again.
Dean had been fighting it for years, battling on, ignoring it, dancing around it, and the real sad thing was he'd lost the fight to a slumbering Sam and long lone stretch of road. He'd done it a thousand times before and managed to avoid this little subject in his head, so why now? What was it about this moment, while Sam slept on, that had snapped Dean.
"I'm going insane." Great, now he was muttering to himself, well if that wasn't just the cherry to his pie. Panting heavily, like some over weight hussy on a doughnut run, Dean slid forward to let his reeling head rest on the thin steering wheel. He stared at the old dashboard for a few minutes, willing this feeling, this helplessness to go away so he could return to what he loved, the road, some rock music and his perfect Sammy. But all the determination in the world couldn't rid Dean of this feeling. He couldn't ignore it no matter how he tried. He slowly sat up again, calming himself. He closed his eyes for a long second then opened them with new resolve. He wouldn't be like Cas had been when he'd first come to them, scared to think for himself, and he wouldn't be like Lucifer either and give into to his own temptations, he'd find an in between, like Cas had come to, like Sam was trying to build. Ever so carefully Dean turned to Sam, reached across him and unbuckled the seat belt that Sam was so anal about always buckling, unlike Dean, who always forgot, much to his baby brother's displeasure. Throwing the belt from Sam, Dean wrapped his arms around Sam's bulky chest and gently as he could; given how dam heavy the big lump was, and firmly pulled Sam across the front seat resting him against his chest. Sam stirred slightly in his sleep, humming in complaint and twitching his noise before settling into the warmth of Dean's strong embrace. Dean let Sam rest his drowsy head on his shoulder. Dean stared down at his baby brother and smiled softly as he watched Sam's lip tremble and his brow furrow. Sam had always been one to make the funniest funny faces while he slept. Dean run his knuckles along Sam's high cheekbones and let his finger tip stroke over the tiny but full bottom lip until the last tremor had passed. He stoked the soft brown locks of one bang before he tucked them both away behind his brother's ears. He'd never let his brother know what he did while Sam slept on blissfully. This was his in between, he'd never tell Sammy he desired him in a very unbrotherly way, but he wouldn't deny it to himself like he'd been doing for the last ten years. Sam would never forgive him if he knew. Never. And Dean wouldn't lose Sam because he was a sick incestuous basted. It was his job to protect Sam, to keep creeps and freaks and other nasties away from him, but how could he when he'd become one of those monsters they hunt? Briefly he wondered if Cas in his all knowingness could hear or see this moment, good lord he hoped not. But hey, it wasn't like God could tell him incest was wrong, if the whole Adam and Eve thing checked out then how did their children make children? Eww, no, he didn't want to question that, he just wanted to hold Sammy and have him while he slept because before long he'd have to let him go, and when his brother woke Dean would be back to pretending. Dean swallowed down the raising lump in his throat. Inhaling Sam's soap and sweat scent through his nose Dean placed a fleeting kiss on his brother's lips, applying no pressure, simply brushing, feeling the lips beneath his.
Nothing else matter but this, he had to guard this, these sacred moments, because this was his and he couldn't lose it or Sam.
Nothing else matters, nothing but Sam.