If Sam wasn't dead already, Dean was going to kill him. Slamming his phone shut for the tenth time on the voice message coming on, Dean banged his phone on the car steering wheel. Not only had Sam done a Houdini act, but he had taken the Impala and Dean didn't know which one to be angrier at. He had had to hot wire a car and was speeding off to where he thought Sam would be going.
"Goddamnit Sam" Dean growled and floored the accelerator. He hoped that Sam wasn't being ridden by Lucifer again. He'd seen what had happened in the cabin, Sam spacing out on them again, and it unnerved him a little. If Sam break's again, he didn't know how he could help him. He could only imagine what Sam would be seeing, and he could imagine a lot. He'd done his time in the torture halls of Hell, and he wouldn't wish that on the most evil of monsters, what more his brother. They had made a narrow escape in Sioux Falls, but if Sam was alone, he didn't know how much his brother could take.
Bozeman, Montana that's what the newspapers had said and Dean was damn sure that Sam was there now. He had contacted Bobby and confirmed with him that it was indeed a kitsune that Sam was going after.
He'd been driving all night, and as he pulled into the only motel in town, he willed himself not to spontaneously explode from frustration. He park the car in the parking lot nearby and walked into the reception office. There was a pretty blonde sitting behind the desk watching some soap opera on the TV.
"Hey," Dean said, nearing the desk, "did… did a tall guy check in last night? About yea high?" placing his hand up, about Sam's height. The blonde looked at him with narrowed eyes. "What's it to you?" she asked.
Dean put down his hand and gave her an annoyed look. "Well, other than the bastard stole my car and took off leaving just a freaking note, he happens to be my brother" Dean said a little angry. She raised an eyebrow and gave him the key to one of the rooms. "Uh huh, well, don't let me get in the way of your little lover's quarrel" she said. Dean just glanced at her angrily not wanting to quarrel anymore, let her think whatever she wanted. He just wanted to sock Sam in the face.
When he entered the room, the first thing he noticed was the map pinned to the wall. There were newspaper cuttings, lines drawn and tacks pinned to certain areas. Dean had to hand it to Sam, even in whatever state he was, he was still able to get this all together and it wasn't an easy task. He looked around the room, but the only thing that proved that Sam was there, other than the small command centre on the wall, was the used suit on the floor and the slept in bed.
Dean sighed and sat down on the bed, scrubbing his face with his hand as he did. He was sick and tired of Sam trying to handle this. As much as he asked Sam, he knew that Sam was slowly and surely going the hard way and he was bring too goddamn martyr-like about it. It frustrated him even more, but then again, he'd held a lot back from Sam, so, he knew that he couldn't blame him.
After a few minutes of waiting, he heard the purr of the Impala and got up from the bed. Wincing a little at his sore leg, he went to stand by the door. He told himself that he wasn't going to hurt Sam, but as the door opened, he found himself pulling back his right arm and letting it fly towards his brother.
He felt his fist connect with Sam's face, hard. He saw Sam flail and fall to the round. He heard himself saying "Howdy, Sam" and he also felt horrible about doing it.
He walked out of the room a little into the chilly night and grabbed his brother by the front of his shirt. He hauled him up, gave him a look that he only gave when he was past angry and went back into the room. Sam followed, rubbing his face gingerly.
"New rule," Dean said, rubbing his knuckles a little, "You steal my baby, you get punched." "You could have given me a concussion you know, Dean" As Sam said that, Dean turned and looked at him. "What the hell Sam, you leave in the dead of night and all I get is a note telling me NOT to worry? You're really something, you know," he said, flexing his hand. " You turn off you GPS, you don't answer my calls, or Bobby's and you expect anything less?"
"Dean, I told you I was fine" Sam started, but Dean interrupted him. "Oh, sure Sam, you're just peachy ain't you? That's why you went all Girl, Interrupted on us back in the cabin." Sam sighed and looked down, "That was nothing Dean" he said.
And that's when Dean lost it.
"Don't tell me that was NOTHING Sam," Dean shouted at him. "You go around like nothing is wrong with you, but I see you. I see you looking worse and worse every day. I just wish you would goddamn trust me enough to talk to me about it." Dean spread out his arms, "What, am I not good enough to talk to now?" he asked.
Sam looked at him with a sarcastic look. "Oh, we're talking trust now Dean?" Sam asked, getting up from leaning against the table. "You didn't want to trust me when I said that I was okay, you didn't want to believe me in the cabin when I said I was dealing with this and you obviously don't trust me now when I said that I'm okay, so practice what you preach before you go mouthing off to me about trust" Sam said, looking Dean straight in the eyes.
"Wow, Sammy, you're all kinds of crazy right now, you know that right?" Dean said, going over to the kitchen counter and leaning on it. "So?" he asked "Since you're all hunky-dory, where's the body?"
Sam stopped and glanced at Dean. "There is not body" Sam said quietly. Dean thought he misheard. "Excuse me?" he said, turning to Sam, "There's NO body?" he asked, disbelieving. Sam shrugged, "I… I let her go Dean" he said, looking at his brother.
Dean stared at Sam for a moment, not able to make a word come out of his mouth. When he finally got over what Sam just said, he said "Why did you let it go?"
"She promised not to kill again Dean, she's different" Sam said, looking a little hopeful. Maybe he might get Dean to let go of this. But Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam. "Different how exactly?" he said.
"W-Well, she doesn't kill for one, she works as a mortician, Dean, not hurting anyone. The only reason he had to kill was because her son was sick and he would have died if she didn't" Sam said, trying to get through to Dean. "She's different" he said, "she's changed, like me…"
"Ah, c'mon Sam" Dean said, getting off the counter, "at the end of the day, she's still a freak." Sam was taken aback by that. Dean relised what he had said and tried to amend it, but Sam put a hand up. "Don't, Dean" he said and went over to his knapsack. "I know how you've been looking at me, like I'm some time-bomb waiting to go off, and I understand how you're feeling" he said, "but that doesn't mean that Amy doesn't deserve a second chance. She only did it to save her son."
Dean understood what Sam was saying then, but didn't want to believe it just then. Sighing and shaking his head, he grabbed his jacket from the bed and started walking out of the room. Just before he reached the door, he turned and looked at his brother. "Fine, you wanna do this, then do it. Just don't come crawling back to me when Lucifer decides to take your ass for a spin" he said and opened the door, walking out and slamming it shut. He walked out from the motel car park, not bothering with the hijacked car. He needed some alcohol.
In the room, Sam slumped down in a chair, emotionally drained from the fight. Ssssaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmm, he heard and looked up. There was no one in the room, but he knew who it was. Saaaaaam, Sssssssssaaaaaammmmmmm, come back Saaaaaaaaaam the voice said. Sam closed his eyes and rubbed his palm where the glass had cut him.
Pain shot through his body and the voice was abruptly cut off. Dean had helped Sam realize the line between reality and his hallucinations, but it didn't mean that he always knew what was real and what wasn't sometimes. His episodes had lessened, but they were always going to be there he thought.
Dean came back the next morning, smelling slightly of alcohol and sweat, but Sam knew that he wasn't trashed, maybe just a little high. He came in and saw Sam standing near the bathroom, in fresh clothes and setting his towel down. He looked a little surprised but Dean didn't care. He just opened his arms and looked at his brother. "I'm sorry, Sammy" he said.
Sam smiled and walked up to Dean and hugged him. "I shouldn't have said those things, Dean, I'm sorry" Sam said. Sighing Dean let go of his brother but took Sam's head in his hands and pressed it against his forehead. "You are not a freak, Sam. Lucifer may be playing ball in your head, but you're not a freak" he said.
Sam grabbed onto Dean's wrists and sighed. "I know Dea. I know. And I do trust you, with everything I am" he said. Dean smiled and hugged Sam a little more softly now. "I promise I won't do anything to hurt you, Sammy" he said.
In the trunk of the Impala, lay the bloody knife that Dean had used to kill Amy with.