Title: I fear that I am a slippery slope
Author: alakewood
Warnings: Spoilers for Pilot.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1500+
Summary: Takes place post-Pilot. "That little dreamworld in your head, Sam? Hate to break it to you, but it doesn't exist. There's no such thing as 'normal' or 'perfect.' And if there was? Hell, Sammy, we'd never be able to touch it."
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.
A/N: Title from You Won't Know by Brand New, but the story kind of...went a little off track from the original idea the line had inspired. Also, I had this crazy little idea that sounded fun at the time: to write a companion story (be it an aside, a coda, an AU) to each episode. This fic, I think, has unintentionally started that daunting task...

oxoxo

It had been a long day and they'd covered a lot of ground. However, they were no closer to finding their father and patience was wearing thin as tensions were running high.

Sam sat at the foot of his bed, kicking off his shoes, as Dean collapsed into a chair at the lopsided table in the corner. He opened John's journal to the place where he'd stuffed most of the information he'd pulled off the walls of John's motel room in Jericho. "There's gotta be something here," he said, partly to Sam but mostly just thinking out loud.

"It's Dad," Sam yawned, digging for his new toothbrush in his duffle. "He's probably on to the next hunt, too absorbed -"

"He'd have called by now, Sam."

"I'm just saying - it's not like he hasn't done something like this before. Haven't we been through this already?"

"I told you. This is different. And we didn't have cell phones back then."

"It is different – you're grown men. You don't need to be keeping tabs on each other."

"Even after the week we've had, you still don't understand how dangerous the job is."

Sam was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. "Dean, we don't need Dad to find this thing. We have his journal, all of his notes. We can do this without him."

"That's not the point, Sam! Dad's missing."

"And I'm sure he'll eventually come around-"

"I know you and Dad have never seen eye to eye, but he's all we've got left."

"There's more to life than Dad and the hunt, Dean!" Sam took a few steps towards his brother – the closer he was, the taller and more threatening he seemed, a trick he'd been using to get his way since he was fifteen. It didn't seem to be working on Dean just then, his brother meeting his stare with a hard gaze of his own. "Don't you want to actually live and be happy? You deserve better than this."

Dean shook his head, already regretting what he was about to say. "And look how well that turned out for you. That little dreamworld in your head, Sam? Hate to break it to you, but it doesn't exist. There's no such thing as 'normal' or 'perfect.' And if there was? Hell, Sammy, we'd never be able to touch it." He paused. "So get over it. Dad did."

And Sam was beyond pissed off, on the verge of tears or punching Dean in the face. "Because being like Dad is something to aspire to."

Dean scoffed. "You know what? If this is how it's gonna be, I'll find Dad on my own. You probably don't even care if we find him, if he's okay. I don't need this from you again. I'm taking you back to Palo Alto in the morning."

"Dean." Sam looked scared for the briefest of moments. "Are you serious? I don't have anything to go back to."

"There's apparently nothing here for you, either." Dean stormed out of the motel room, the rumble of the Impala's engine only serving to emphasize his departing words.

xox

Tired as he was, Sam sat awake all night, back against the headboard and the bedside lamp on as he waited for Dean to return.

An hour passed. Two. Five. Then the sun came up. Still no Dean.

Twenty minutes before he had to check out, Sam took a quick shower, hoping his brother would magically appear. The room was still empty when he returned, and his stomach sunk impossibly deeper.

His mother died when he was a baby. His father abandoned him when he made one of the biggest decisions of his life. His girlfriend died when he'd just fallen in love. His brother abandoned him when he needed him the most.

Obviously he was meant to spend his life alone.

He got dressed and shoved his dirty clothes into the top of his duffle bag before slinging it over his shoulder and heading outside. His eyes scanned the empty parking lot as he walked to the main office. The man behind the desk merely glanced at him when he slid the key across the counter. "Have a good one," the man said, not looking away from the TV.

Sam had never hitchhiked before – had never needed to. But what choice did he have? He couldn't hotwire a car; that was in Dean's cache of illegal talents. So he trudged towards the highway, squinting against gravel dust and the late morning sunlight that burned through the clouds.

He couldn't remember which direction he and Dean had come from the previous night and just started down the shoulder. A few cars and a semi passed him, but no one stopped.

Sam had been walking for a good twenty minutes when the sound from the engine of another approaching car became loud enough to hear over the thoughts in his head. It slowly crescendoed into a familiar roar, his heart stuttering a beat. The car passed, but was slowing, the black streak swerving onto the shoulder fifty yards ahead of him and kicking up a cloud of dust.

He hadn't been the one that left and, just because Dean had come back for him, didn't mean that his brother deserved to be forgiven. So Sam kept walking, passed the Impala, continuing on his way to wherever the highway led.

Sam was barely five feet ahead of the front fenders when he heard the car door open, Dean getting out. "What the Hell, Sam? Get in the car."

Sam turned and walked backwards a few paces. "Why? You're just gonna leave again."

Dean's head fell back as he let out a frustrated groan and slammed the door closed. "You were gone when I went back, Sam."

"Why'd you even bother to come back, Dean? All you're gonna do is take me somewhere I don't belong."

"You don't belong out here, either."

"On the hunt, you mean," he clarified, knowing there was more to Dean's words than the obvious.

"Yes, on the hunt. You said it yourself, Sam: there's more to life than this. For you, yeah. Me? I don't think so. This life is all that I know. You and Dad? It's all I've got. And with Dad gone...Sam. All we've got is us. So just get in the goddamn car. I'm not gonna leave you again."

Sam just nodded, walked back to the car, and slid into the passenger seat. "Look, Dean..." he started when Dean climbed in also.

Dean held up a hand. "I know you don't remember it, but the night Mom died, Dad put you in my arms and said: 'take care of your brother.' I promised Dad I would, promised myself that I would always take care of you." Dean turned his gaze out the windshield.

"You were four, Dean."

He shrugged. "I know. But it was promise. I shouldn't've left last night. I'm sorry."

"I should be the one apologizing. I didn't mean what I said about Dad-"

Dean scoffed, incredulous, looking at Sam with arched brows.

"To an extent, maybe," Sam conceded. "But he did the best he could with what he had. He did all he knew how to do."

He nodded. "Where you are right now, think about it. Dad was in the exact same place after Mom. If anybody understands what you're going through, it's gonna be him. He knows more about this thing than anybody. If you want to find it, we need to find Dad first."

"You're right."

"What was that?" he asked, grinning and elbowing his brother lightly. "I don't think I heard you right."

Sam finally smiled, too. "I said you were right. Don't get used to hearing it."

Dean threw the car into drive and pulled back out onto the highway. "You could also say you're wrong."

They were quiet for a long while. "So, Colorado, then?"

"Yep."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You were right about one other thing?"

"Is that so?"

"All I've got is you."