FIRST FANFIC FOR SUPERNATURAL! :3 welllll first fanfic ever soooo lol here I go..?
Reviews are awesome so please don't read and leave me lonely!
-Ashanti
Dean clenched his jaw in anger as he listened to another one of Sam's monologues on how he 'shouldn't be afraid of showing his true feelings' or whatever. He couldn't take anymore of his brother's now obnoxious voice and punched the button on the Impala's radio.
ACDC rang out louder than Sam could take as he shouted and grasped his head tightly, glaring at his older brother. "Really, Dean? Were you even listening to me?"
Instead of acknowledging his brother, Dean began to sing out the lyrics to his music, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel as he drove.
Sam sighed and muttered something under his breath, crossing his arms and sinking into the leather of the seat. It was obviously going to be a very long ride to Amarillo, where there was a creature digging tunnels in the Palo Duro Canyons and stealing away hikers. Bobby had clued them onto it and was staying back at the house, on the radar for a vampire club in Nashville.
Thinking to himself, Sam felt bad for his brother. After all, Dean's mind was filled up to the brim- half with guilt, half with sorrow. After losing mom, Dad was the only thing that Dean could cling to. He was almost his lifeline; and now he was dead.
Even his younger brother wasn't good enough for him. There was a hole in Dean's heart that was rotting from the inside, and it stung whenever Sam tried to fix it or clean it for infections. Figuratively, of course, not literally.
Biting his tongue to keep from saying something, Sam reflected on tactics to comfort Dean. The best thing for him currently was space, but Sam knew that too much space and Dean would be hardened into antisocial-ness. And Sam wouldn't ever tell him, but he'd really, really miss how Dean shamelessly flirted with every waitress he could find.
Literally, every waitress. Last time they were at Fuddruckers, he'd hit on a 50 year old fixins' attendant. However, Sam had to admit that she was really rocking the tanktop and apron.
But there had to be something he could say to make him feel better. Even if it meant that he was bugging Dean to death, he would help him to feel better inside.
"We've both seen the signs! Don't you dare tell me you can't see it!" Shouted Dean at the top of his lungs in the parking lot of the Motel 8.
Sam knit his eyebrows together. "Dean, he didn't sacrifice himself for you! And even if he did, it was for a reason!" The younger brother threw his hands forward in gesture. "You're alive, isn't that worth it?"
"For Dad's life!" Dean shouted. "Are you saying you're happy he's dead?"
"And that you're alive?" Sam contradicted, pointing at Dean and poking him, which clearly set him off.
Dean glared at Sam, swatting his hand away as hard as he could. "What does it matter if I'm alive if he's not?"
"You can do things that maybe he can't!" Sam shouted, then he caught himself and calmed his voice. "Look, is this about him?"
"Is what about him?" The older brother balled his hands into fists. I swear if he brings this up again..
"Getting angry at me all the time?" Sam's eyes stared into Dean's eyes a little too much for his liking. "Getting into fights? Being reckless? Look, Dean, if you're upset about Dad's death, you can show it! There's no need to do all this! Do you think he'd be happy seeing you upset all the time like this?" Dean hesitated, and Sam jumped. "Do you?!"
Dean's mind went into a temporary color screen like you'd see on a television, then into the static on television mode. In blind rage he threw a punch at Sam, knocking him off his feet- which happened to be easier than it sounded despite his long legs- and onto the ground.
He jumped on top of him, throwing punch after punch. He paused and saw Sam mouthing something, but he couldn't hear him. Rage pulsed through his veins and he could only hear his vicious heart beating in his ears. Sam's mouth remained open, uttering a long syllable, and Dean kept punching, expecting that whatever Sam was saying was something about 'insulting dad's memory' or some crap. Dean felt something warm and wet on his hand when he paused, frowning at his fists.
Blood trickled down his knuckles, but they weren't his. He looked back at Sam and suddenly his brain rebooted. He could hear and sense and see now, staring down at Sam.
The long syllable he had been hearing was Sam shouting at him to stop- a pain filled scream almost. Dean felt nauseous as soon as he heard Sam crying and saw the damage he had inflicted.
"S-sammy?" His heart stopped beating for a second before getting off of the top of him. "Are you okay? Sammy?" He drew in a breath and shook his head. "I'm sorry.. I didn't.."
Sam stared up at him with dark brown eyes that seemed black in the dark, stopping his shouts and staring at Dean with big eyes. "I-it.." he coughed, starting to sit up. "It's okay.."
Dean grabbed his shoulders and helped pull him up to a sitting position and to his feet, leading him towards the motel room.
"If.. if you need to," Sam wiped his nose, swaying slightly. "You can hit me again, if it'll make you feel better."
Dean glared, feeling his anger bubble up again. He was still bugging him about this whole dad thing. "I'm not hitting you again, Sammy. In fact I'm gonna find the stinging iodine for that cut of yours."
Sam's eyes widened. "Iodine?"
Dean smirked slightly and opened the door, letting Sam in and starting to finally see him in the light.
"Good grief," Dean said beneath his breath, spotting the already forming bruises and drops of blood going down his nose and the side of his temple. "I'm sorry, dude."
"If it helped you to-"
Dean glared and slammed the front door. "On second thoughts, I'm gonna shower and hit the sack. You can fix that face." He said, storming off to the bathroom and turning on the water, taking a little extra time to shower and use all the warm water.
The older Winchester yawned loudly as he drove, still waking up. He was of course being careful in the Impala, seeing how it was his baby, but he couldn't stop yawning.
He hadn't even dared to look at Sam. He had told him that he was gonna check out the canyon to look for the creature, but that was about it. Sam had followed after him silently and hopped into the side of the Impala, not moving or talking the whole time.
It had already been a pretty long drive to the canyons, occupying thirty minutes already, but it was really worth the drive. Dean's eyes widened when he saw the view of the canyon, pulling over at the little trinket shop at the edge of the canyon.
He parked the car and got out, hearing Sam's door open and close too and continuing. Dean caught a glimpse of a man smoking outside the doors, shooting the Winchesters a glare as they walked inside.
"Excuse me, miss?"
The lady behind the counter- selling snow globes ironically- looked up and hummed. "What can I get for you, boys?"
"I'm Dean and this is Sam, and we're from the Missing Peoples Accounts in the Amarillo Police Department." He fumbled for a badge and showed her shortly. "We're investigating the disappearances of Helen and Frank Garden and Timothy Lipok?"
The woman frowned. "I'm sorry?"
"There have been rumors that Helen, Frank, and Timothy all disappeared in the canyon?" Dean clarified.
"Oh my word," She groaned loudly. "Those are my children."
Dean and Sam frowned. "Huh?"
"I'm Helen Garden, my sons are Frank and Timothy. They're only eight and ten years old, so they must have posted that on the internet for kicks!" She banged her hand on the counter. "I swear they are soo grounded when I get home!"
Sam cleared his throat and Dean walked out. "Thanks for your time, Mrs. Garden." The younger brother addressed her, following his brother.
Outside of the doors, Dean growled. "You are kidding. I finally find a good case and it's soon preteens looking for a few laughs." He kicked a rock over the edge of the canyon.
Approaching the edge carefully, Sam looked past the creaking wood fence at the canyon. It was a breathtaking view, and extremely deep. It made Sam's heart beat faster as he gulped and looked back at Dean, who wouldn't return his gaze.
"Look, Dean," Sam started. "I'm really sorry that I've been pushing you. I'm not trying to hurt you, I just that it might make you feel better if you had someone to talk to.."
Dean started to look up, staring at Sam's ankles.
"I always like talking my problems out to anyone who will listen, and it's hard to think someone can be different from me," He leaned against the wooden fence. "And I want you to know that I'm sorry for pushing you. I really-" A loud snap sounded and Dean looked up just in time to see Sam falling fast, the wooden fence broken.
"SAMMY!"
Teehee.. Hope that was good?
Reviews puhleez! :D