Dean sat bolt upright in bed, breathing in short gasps. It was dark, but the neon sign outside their motel room cast a gloomy red glow into the room. He was sweating profusely, and he was pretty sure that he had just been writhing around in his sleep as the sheets were tangled beyond comprehension. He scrubbed a hand over his face and looked over at Sam. Luckily, he hadn't woken up his brother. Sam, still snoring quietly, would never have to see Dean this way. Dean would rather die than like Sam see him like this.
And he was going to make sure that Sam wouldn't see him like this. Vulnerable…
He untangled himself from the sheets and swung his legs over the bed. Getting up slowly, as he suddenly felt a little light-headed, he went to the toilet and turned on the light, shutting the door at the same time.
He turned on the water and washed his face. Feeling the cool liquid against his face calmed him down a little and his breathing was getting under control again. Looking up from the basin, he looked at his reflection. Everything was the same, so why did he feel like he was already dead? He still had a few more days… Days…
He looked down again and sighed. He didn't want to die. Didn't want to leave Sam. He didn't want to die, but then again, when did either of them ever get what they really wanted?
Taking one last look in the mirror, he turned and opened the door, only to be blocked by the huge form that was his brother. Sam was rubbing his eyes and squinting a little at the sudden brightness.
"Dean? You okay?" Sam asked sleepily.
Dean tried to smile at his brother, but it came across strained. "Yeah, I'm okay Sammy. Go back to sleep. I'm gonna go get something to eat" he said. Sam looked at him, a little bit more awake and glanced over at the bedside clock. "At three in the morning Dea?" he asked, not convinced that his brother was okay at all.
The older Winchester patted his stomach and laughed a little. "Gotta eat sometime right, Sammy?" he said, grabbing his jacket and keys. Sam decided to let it go and flopped back down onto his bed. "Just don't drive off a cliff or something, Dean" he said, pinching his eyes with his fingers. Dean looked over at his brother, disbelieving. "Sammy, where the hell am I supposed to find a cliff out here?" he asked, but Sam just huffed and turned over, muttering something about how he wouldn't put it past Dean.
As he got into the Impala, Dean couldn't hold the sinking feeling back any longer. He started the engine and rolled out of the motel car park. It was a small town they were in at the moment, small enough that if he drove long enough, he would get to where he would want to go right now.
So he drove. He drove out of town, but not too far, he didn't want Sam to worry.
He pulled into an empty field and turned off the stereo and the car. It was dark enough that all the stars were shining, but bright enough that he could see out into the field.
It was a quiet place, and he just wanted Sam here right now, but, he also knew that Sam was holding in a lot. He couldn't bear to dump any of his emotional crap on Sam. So he just stayed there, sitting up on the hood of the car and staring up at the stars.
He would miss this. The wide open sky, the stars, the sun on his skin, the cool breeze against his face. Even the annoying things. Bar thugs, stuck up women, his baby not being in mint state. Oh god, he would miss the Impala. But most of all, he would miss Sam.
Sam… How was going to do this? How was he going to leave Sam?
He didn't realize, but tears were flowing freely. Not until he wiped his hand across his mouth did he feel the wetness on his cheeks. He was ashamed at himself. Wiping off the tear tracks and clearing his throat, he stood up and took one last look at the stars.
After a moment, he opened his mouth and shouted out into the night. He screamed why, why him, why all this, and by the end of the outburst, he sagged to his knees and placed his hands on the grass.
He let his tears fall to the ground, mixing with the morning dew. He had given up everything, and now, he was giving up the last thing he held on to. Hope.
Dean saw the sunrise that day, leaning back on the Impala. He watched the sky lighten and an orange-pink fire spread across the sky. He heard the birds waking up, calling out to each other. He heard the world waking up and starting its day.
Slowly, he got up, dusted off his jeans and got into the car. He turned on the engine and drove back to the motel, stopping on the way to pick up some breakfast for Sam and him. he tried to smile at the waitress, but he just couldn't find it in him to. He thanked her and gave her a big tip, making her smile brightly.
He got into the motel car park ten minutes later, parking a little further away, not wanting to wake Sam up. As he walked up to the door, he stopped. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he willed himself to seem calm. Things inside might be breaking apart, but on the outside, he would remain calm.
Putting the keys in and turning the lock as quietly as he could, Dean got in and shut the door. Turning around, he was almost knocked to the door by Sam, coming up and wrapping his arms around Dean.
Dean stepped back once to steady himself and hugged his brother. "Sammy? What wrong Sam?" he asked, suddenly concerned.
"D-Dean," Sam said, voice quivering a little "I… I actually thought you…"
Understanding what Sam was leading on to, Dean sighed and hugged his brother a little tighter and stroked his hair. "Hey, c'mon Sammy, I'm not gonna, okay?" he said. "I'm not gonna leave you, Sam, I never will."
And yet, he was lying.