Overheard

10/2/2014

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam's legs gave way. Sam fell to the floor in the hallway with his eyes closed, hair dragging in the cracks that zig-zagged through the cheap drywall. He landed on the floor with his right leg jammed underneath him at an odd angle, and his left leg spread out in front of him jammed against the fake wood paneling on the wall across from him. His chest hurt, ached, and he huffed his shoulders in pain. It felt like he couldn't breathe, couldn't get enough air around the hole blown in his chest. Eyes closed, the words echoed in his head. Is this why Crowley had agreed to bring him to Dean? To show him that his brother had well and truly left him?

Sam dropped his head into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut against the burn in them, wishing he hadn't come, that he had waited in the car like Crowley had told him. He pulled his other leg underneath him and curled forward, tightening, rocking his whole body through the pain. His fingers clenched on the back of his head and pulled at his hair. Sam's chest clenched and tightened until he felt like he might pass out from lack of oxygen.

It hurt too much. Dean, using those words that had always been for him, always been the call and response of their relationship, even when he was little and Dean had told him he was too young for swear words but that he could say "jerk" instead, and Dean would know what it meant. It had meant everything to them, and would sometimes be the only words they said to each other for days.

"Bitch,"

"Jerk."

Are you okay?

Let's eat.

Hey, Brother.

I'm sorry.

We're good.

I'm here.

I've got you.

Love you, little brother.

Love you, Dean.

Everything wrapped into those two words; the only way they could really express themselves to each other and always be understood. Those two sacred words meant everything to Sam, and Dean had just thrown them away to Crowley. First the amulet, and now this. Sam did not know what to do.

He finally took a stuttering breath, and then another.

No. He would not do this. This was Dean. Dean. The name slammed into his consciousness and brought him back to now. His brother was still in there somewhere, and damned if Sam wasn't going to find him and bring him back. Just like Dean did for him all those times. No matter what, no matter the cost. Sam pulled every muscle in his body as tight as he could for one more second, and then he exhaled slowly as he stood up. Sam pushed his hair back behind his ears and scrubbed a hand down his face to wipe the agony off his face. He inhaled as much air as he could and huffed it out quickly. Then he moved to the door and stepped into the hotel room to face his brother.