Disclaimer: I don't own anything supernatural but… This is my new motto: I'm gonna continue to play with my pens and see what I can come up with... I'll overthrow the king of the sandbox and write my own stuff...:) (stubborn face)
NOTE 1: I wrote this right after the episode aired…I think my writing as changed some since then…but having trouble changing over to how I write now…so leaving as is… hopefully you will still enjoy….Wasn't planning on adding this one, but my son wanted to see it added with the others…(chews lower lip)
NOTE2: Line breaks within the chapters, you have seen before just not in my stories, means switching from one scene to next. (Which you probably already know…not trying to insult anyone) Really…really…
NOTE3: Thanks for your review of Burning Embers- mzz - Hope you like this one!
Chapter 1
Dean sat longer at the table with burger in hand and said flatly, "I wouldn't want to slow you down…" Then he cut his eyes up to stare intently at Sam, glaring daggers.
And with those simple words, Sam knew. A chill crept thru Sam, Dean would never forget. He would never forgive him…and he couldn't blame Dean for that. When Sam himself…couldn't. Words wouldn't be enough to fix the gulf between them…ever. Sam had broken everything and Dean… Dean was angry.
Sam hung his head and waited for his brother to stand, after a few seconds Dean stood wiping his hands then throwing the napkin to the table.
Walking to the car was tension filled… minutes later they were on the road. Dean white knuckled the steering wheel, damn his chest burned like a mother… "Dean…"
"Not now, Sam." Dean bit out thru clenched teeth, not taking his eyes off the road stretching out in front of them. Half an hour passed of oppressive silence.
"But…" came Sam's soft reply as he tried again.
"Shut. Up. Sam." Dean tried not to snarl, but his chest hurt, among other things…like his pride…his self worth…stop that train right the hell NOW! Not going there! Dean growled in frustration…God, their lives sucked!
"At least take these…" Sam held out a couple of pain pills and a bottle of water… his try for a peace offering…at least until they could actually sit down to talk. Not that that would solve anything…it wouldn't…except…maybe make Sam feel better.
"NOT NOW SAM." Dean didn't bother to look at him this time either…
Sam slowly lowered his hands, letting the water bottle slide out of them and into the floorboard. Then he returned the pills to the bottle they came out of. If Dean was lost to him… he shook his head as he pulled out a flask and upended it.
Dean glanced over at the guzzling sound Sam was making, his eyes widening as he took in the flask, "Hey…" he looked back to the road. "Hey…what's in that?" this time not taking his eyes from the road.
Sam continued drinking it until it was empty, putting the lid back on he stated, "Beam, so and…what?" Then it seemed to dawn on Sam that Dean was talking to him, "Wait a minute…you're not talking to me…What do you care?"
"You dumbass! You took major pain pills less than an hour ago." Dean stated, stepping into the gas. "I'm getting us a room."
"I'm fine…don't bother…" then Sam pulled another flask, had it opened and upended before Dean could blink twice.
Sam didn't even notice the glare Dean leveled at him, When did the little shit start carrying a flask of Jim Beam around on his person, let alone two?… "You little fuck…are you trying to piss me off?" Dean snarled, his temper crackling and sparking like a loose electrical wire…
Sam didn't say anything, No, he thought silently, He really, really didn't want to do that…
"Sam." Dean snarled again, this time in warning, slamming on the brakes and swerving to the side of the road.
Sam head hit the dash and he bounced back against the seat and started to rebound back again but Dean growled at Sam slamming him back against the seat, preventing the second collision of Sam's head. He let go long enough to slam the car into park and kill the engine. Dean started cussing, slamming out of the impala and around to yank Sam's door open.
Sam's laughed as blood trickled down over his eyebrow. He holds the flask out triumphantly, "Didn't spill any!" and starts to bring it back up to his lips.
Dean smacks it out of Sam's hand.
Sam smiles cause, hell, he's really feeling no pain… and he flopped onto the seat reaching for the flask.
Dean's skyrocketed past pissed straight to volcanic red hot lava- his temper is about to blow as he yanks Sam back by the back of his shirt. He then slammed Sam upright against the seat and braced him there, hand firmly splayed across his chest. Sam's head nodded forward as his eyes slide closed. Dean slaps him with his free hand, "Oh, no you don't, you little shit! Wake up, right the fuck now!"
Sam's eyes pop open as his arm snakes out to fist in Dean's shirt.
Dean hisses in pain as Sam makes contact with his chest.
"D…I sorry…I dinna mean…" and pitches forward, out cold…
Dean sighed, laying him over and patted his arm, "I know Sammy, I know." Closing the door, he watched Sam a few minutes before climbing back into the driver's seat to continue on to the motel.
Someone grabbed Sam by his shirt front and shook him awake. Sam opened his eyes to stare at Dean's cold glare.
"I'm tired of waiting for your sorry ass to wake up." Dean snapped.
Sam closed his eyes, he felt the sting of a slap to his cheek.
"This pathetic little soldier that doesn't have an original thought in head is done…" and with that said, laughed icily.
Sam's eyes popped open, "No, Dean."
"Yeah and you're right…I've been listening to dad too long…I'm done…you can take care of Sammy…cause I'm done…I can't forgive you." Dean sneered and walked out without looking back…
Sam sat up and everything spun. He stood anyway and his vision went black…as he went down, Dean, was his last thought…
Sam woke up with a gasp, sitting up. From his position on the floor he looked for Dean. The room was empty. No stuff and no Dean. He stood, staggering to the table. Sinking into a chair, he rested his forehead on the cool tabletop, Dean was gone…Dean hated him…well, fuck it…he was done too! His hand automatically felt for the gun resting against the small of his back. He chewed his lip…should he leave the room? Dean wasn't coming back, why bother? But should he leave a note? So, Bobby and Dean wouldn't feel… Sam took out his phone and placed on the table. Then he took the motel pad and pen and wrote…
Big brother…Dean, man… Don't worry about how you left…not your fault… When they call you to pick up the body, just salt and burn-go to Bobby-don't do it alone. Don't feel guilty man-you had a right to leave and a right to say what you did…it's ok to be done…hell, dad was done a long time ago. I'm glad you stuck around as long as you did…thanks, man. After what I said…it's ok you can't forgive me. I understand…love you…and forgive you. Sammy
Sammy placed the phone onto the pad and left them both in the middle of the table. Going into bathroom, Sam climbed into the tub, sitting down he leaned back. At least here would be easier cleanup for the maids… he felt a twinge of quilt for the unknown maid that would probably discover… he closed his eyes. He prayed Dean would someday forgive him. He placed the gun to his temple, his eyes sliding closed again. Silent tears making tracks down his cheeks. He still felt drunk and his hands shook, "Dean." he mumbled, pulling the trigger…
TBC
NOTE4: sorry, but this is where original chapter one ended… Do you like? Do you want the rest of the story?