AN: A short little one shot I've had in my head for a while. Tell me how you like it. I don't own Supernatural. Dur.
Dean sighed with content as he lowered himself onto the stiff mattress of his and his father's hotel room.
"Shower?" John grunted as he made his way through the door.
"You can go first," Dean replied, too tired to even think about moving at the moment. John nodded his head and made his way to the bathroom.
Dean's eyes fell on his cell phone he'd disregarded for the last five days. He'd been on a hunt with his dad and he didn't want any distractions. Truth was, the hunt was his distraction, but from something totally different. He needed to keep his mind off of what had happened only five days ago. His little brother, the only reason he'd not gone into a complete shell after his mother had passed, his Sammy was gone. Off to California, never to return again, if their father had anything to say about it.
But Dean knew. He knew that John was hurting just the same way that Dean was. And he knew that if John could do it over, the words that had been exchanged would have been different. But what's done was done, and now the family was living with the consequences of that night.
Picking up the forgotten phone, Dean opened it to see that he had six new voice messages. Dean inwardly pouted. That meant jobs, and he was exhausted. Dean put the phone to his ear and soon the robotic voice of the phone gave him instructions on how to listen to his first voice message. Dean pressed the buttons he needed to, and waited.
"Tuesday, 3:24 PM," the voice said in the annoying monotone Dean hated so much.
There was a slight hesitation on the other end, and then, "Hey... Dean, I.. Well, I really just wanted to..." there was a sigh, then, "screw it."
Dean's brow furrowed in confusion and he clicked over to the next message. Hearing Sam's voice on the other line had renewed the sense of sorrow and loss that he'd felt the night his brother had walked out. He wasn't sure he really wanted to listen, for every word that came out of his brother's mouth was like another arrow piercing him. The pain got overwhelming sometimes.
"Tuesday, 3:49 PM."
"Dean you have to know I didn't leave because of you... or da-," another hesitation, "I thought he would be prou... Nevermind it's stupid."
Shaking his head, and sighing sadly, Dean proceeded to the next message. Sam didn't know. Sam didn't know that John had been proud of Sam. He'd been so damned proud that he couldn't even express it. Dean saw it, behind the mask of anger. John wore a lot of masks, behind the mask of anger was pride for his son, but behind that one, there was fear. And that's where the argument had stemmed from. John feared for his youngest, who, even though was smarter than... most everybody John could think of, was also naive, and trusting.
"Wednesady, 5:16 PM."
"My roommate's dad and sister came to visit today... I don't know why, it gave me this idea that maybe... If you were ever near... I mean it wouldn't be so bad if you just came for a little... Dad would never go for it, would he?" Dean could hear the sadness emitting from Sam's voice, and a scoff at the other end, "And you're probably still pissed at me, too, right? I guess I deserve it. I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't deal with..." Sam seemed to be searching for words now, "I need..." Then the message ended, another abrupt click.
"Sammy..." Dean sighed, as he clicked over to the next message, knowing who's voice would greet him on the other end this time.
"Wednesday, 11:43 PM."
"You ever had t'quila 'efore? Psh, course you have. 'Is amazing. Makes you feel all tiiiingly," Sam giggled and Dean cringed, "Anywho, jus' wanted to call and tell you how much fun this whole colleshe thing is onshe you get to the bar part. I don't even 'member why I'm here anymore, but 'is a whole lot better than being alone... I-" then Sam seemingly got distracted, "Hey preeiiy lady!" Sam giggled again and another click signaled that the call had ended.
Dean actually grinned at this message, although the meaning behind it still stung, but saved it to his phone anyway. He clicked to the next message and mentally prepared himself. Sam had two stages of drunk, the first was silly and the next was...
"Wednesday, 1:28 AM."
"Deeeeean," Dean heard his brother's distraught voice on the other end. It was quieter this time which meant that Sam had probably been escorted back to his dorm. The second stage was that Sam turned into a big pile of smush. His emotions took over and he couldn't do anything to keep himself from breaking down. He'd seen it only twice, but it had devistating effects both times. But both times, Dean had been there to pick up the pieces. Now he wasn't.
"I'm so sorry, Dean. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry," he heard a sniffle, and imagined the tear that had probably fallen from Sam's eyes, "I wish you wouldn't hate me anymore. I can't take it. I wish dad loved me. Why aren't I good enough, Dean? Why? If I could come back home, I would but I can't because dad hates me and he told me to stay gone, but I don't know where to go. I don't know what to do. I don't... have a family." Dean heard a sharp intake of breath, and he had to strain to hear, but he heard, "I miss you. I miss dad..."
Then Dean heard a female voice enter the conversation, "Sam? What are you doing? Everybody's wondering where you- Oh Sam..." Then the message ended once more.
Dean had to struggle to keep his emotions at bay, in case his father decided to emerge from the shower.
Clicking over to the next, and final message, Dean hesitated for only a second.
"Thursday, 1:02 PM."
A voice being cleared could be heard, and an awkward silence followed, "Erm... Would you mind disregarding those previous messages?" a sheepish, laugh, then, "Uh, kay thanks, bye Dean."
"You have no new messages..."
Dean let himself wallow for a few minutes, his face showing all the pain he felt while he was alone with his thoughts.
"Dean? You okay, dude?" John asked as he emerged from the shower, towel drying his shaggy hair, carelessly.
Masking himself, just like his dad, Dean put on a fake smirk, "Always," he replied, while the messages replayed themselves over and over again in Dean's head, and Sam's words echoed like an unwanted presence to haunt him.
Review please. Thanks for reading.
Love,
SLX
