Title: Stranger things have happened
Summary: It's not a big deal. Sam is a Winchester. He's a hunter, for god's sake. He's dealt with things way worse than this. So why is he bawling his eyes out over some stupid girl… Hurt!Sam, Awesome!BigBrother Dean, Teen!Chesters, Pre-series
Warnings: Rated K for the usual bad language.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show or any of its characters. Just borrowing them to play around.
Author's notes: I'm a little stuck with the second chapter of "Tainted" so I decided to write a one-shot in between and get over this stupid writer's block. Hope you enjoy! This takes place before the show, Sam is 14 and Dean is 18.
Seventy-four.
That's the number of tiles in the ceiling.
Some of them are cracked, fine serrated lines breaking the grime-smeared surface of the porcelain, but just because they are damaged doesn't mean they don't exist or can't be taken into account for his calculation.
Just because they are different- just because they are broken, doesn't mean they are worth less or that they can't be seen or used for their intended purpose, right?
Sam grimaces at the absurdity of his thoughts when a choked-off sob escaped his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut against another onslaught of tears when his vision turns blurry, ceiling swimming in and out of focus.
He doesn't know how much time has passed since he locked himself in one of the stalls of the male washroom, but thinking back on how many times he has already heard the bell chiming, it must have been at least a couple of hours.
The steady sound of water dripping from one of the defect water taps is driving him crazy and the whole bathroom stinks of sweat and urine and other things Sam doesn't even want to think about.
But no matter how bad he wants to just stand up and leave, he can't seem to get up from the ground, can't seem to do anything but sit and stare at floors and walls and ceilings and beg the fucking universe to just give him a fucking break for once and make this all just a really bad dream.
But of course the universe doesn't care about some pathetic fourteen-year-old, whose heart just got broken.
In fact, Sam is pretty sure that if anything- the universe has cursed him and his whole family to live a life of eternal bad luck and misery.
Because what other explanation could there possibly be for the shitty excuse they call their lives?
Hunting monsters, shooting things, digging up graves and setting stuff on fire- isn't he a lucky guy, living the dream of about every other teenage boy in the whole fucking nation?
Yeah, except for the fact that Sam doesn't want any of it.
He just wants to lead a normal life, he wants to fit in and have friends and a house and he wants to have a dad who actually gives a shit about him and who talks to him instead of ordering him around all the time.
But that's probably just too much to ask for…
And as if his life isn't already bad enough, Tammy Andrews has to come along and make everything even worse with her perfect smile and her startling blue eyes and the way she would throw her head back in laughter whenever somebody said something funny in class.
She's smart and funny and beautiful, possessing nearly every trait that Sam is looking for in a girl and she had shown interest in him. In him! Out of all people…
And that should have been his first clue that something must be seriously wrong with her.
Sam shakes his head at his own stupidity, embarrassed by his lack of judgment.
He should have known that somebody like Tammy wouldn't spare him a second glance on a good day.
God, he had been so incredibly stupid!
Throwing his head back against the wall in frustration over his own gullibility Sam sniffed miserably, wiping at the hot tears that continued to stream from his swollen eyes.
His dad would be so embarrassed if he could see him right now. And Dean…
Sam hiccupped, drawing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his holey jeans.
Dean had been so proud when Sam had told him about the pretty girl he was going to go on a date with, his whole face lighting up as he started teasing Sam about how he was a real Winchester man after all and about how Sam would probably be too chicken-shit to go first base with her.
And Sam had basked in his brother's affectionate teasing, blushed and asked Dean for tips about how to dress and what to say and where to take her… and now he is sitting in a fucking toilet stall, his styled hair all messed up to hell, wiping his tears and snot all over Dean's favorite shirt while these stupid tears just won't stop falling and Tammy is probably off somewhere laughing her ass off about that nerdy freak who was stupid enough to think he could have a serious chance with her.
Sam is so lost in his grief over what happened that he doesn't even hear the door to the bathroom click open.
It's only when the sound of muffled footsteps is reverberating from the walls that Sam's body tenses and his eyes widen.
He has locked the door to his stall, but he still doesn't want for anybody to hear him crying and call for a teacher or something…
That's about the last thing Sam needs right now.
He can already hear the hateful comments and barking laughter of the other kids at school when they find out about how he locked himself in a toilet stall and bawled his freaking eyes out after getting turned down by Tammy Andrews.
He might as well drown himself in the toilet bowl right now and spare himself the misery.
"Sammy?" a deep voice rings out and Sam's resolve crumbles so fast that it's almost overwhelming.
Against his own will he breaks out into a pitiful whimper, heart clenching painfully at the sound of his brother's concerned tone, because whether he has realized it or not, the only person in the whole wide world who has a snowball's chance in hell to make this fiasco even just a little bit better is Dean.
And for some reason his big brother was suddenly right here with him- the only thing separating them being that meager stall door.
"Dean-" Sam utters brokenly, hating the way his voice cracks on his brother's name, making him sound even more of a pathetic idiot than he is.
"Wha- are you… shit, Sam. Are you crying?" Dean's voice is a mixture of emotions, anger, frustration, concern and panic all laced together into one question.
And Sam doesn't even know what to answer.
Yes… yes your worthless, weirdo, good-for-nothing brother is sitting here crying while he should be out with a stunning girl having fun.
God, Dean should be so fucking embarrassed to have him for a brother.
Sam hiccupps, biting his lower lip when the door knob starts rattling. "Sammy, open up, c'mon."
"Jus'… just l-leave me alone, okay?"
"Yeah right, like that's going to happen," Dean snorts, like the suggestion that he would ever leave his little brother alone when he was upset was ridiculous and didn't even deserve to be taken seriously. "Open up this door now, or I'll kick it in."
Sam presses his lips together, knowing his brother won't actually try to kick open the door when there is even the merest possibility for it to slam into Sam and harm him in the process. But he also knows that his brother will have the lock picked in a heartbeat, if it comes down to it.
Sighing in defeat, Sam wipes the sleeve of Dean's shirt across his face one last time before hesitantly unlocking the door and pushing it open.
The look on his brother's face when Dean sees him is morphing from concern to panic to anger in the flash of a second.
His emerald eyes widen and fill with sadness when he takes in Sam's huddled form on the ground of the toilet stall, puffy red eyes and wet cheeks included.
"What in the world…" Dean begins and it's all he has to say to get Sam's eyes misty with more treacherous tears as he sinks back against the graffiti covered walls.
"I'm such a loser," Sam snivels, words shaking with the disgust he holds for himself and he can't even look Dean in the eye, can't even believe they are related because Dean sure as hell hadn't been such a wimp at fourteen.
He squeezes his eyes shut and drives shaking fingers through his messy hair, wishing for the ground to open up beneath him already and swallow him whole.
The world would be so much better without him in it, anyway.
"Jesus Sammy…" Dean breathes, his boots scraping against the floor as he steps into the stall and crouches down before Sam, resting a heavy palm on his shivering shoulders. "What the hell happened?"
Sam sobs and turns his head away in shame.
God, why does he have to be such a failure? Isn't it bad enough that his dad hates him? Now he has to go and disappoint his brother as well?
"She stand you up or something?" Dean asks softly, squeezing Sam's shoulders.
"Or something," Sam retorts bitterly.
Dean's thumb brushes against the nape of his neck with an uncharacteristic tenderness and Sam swallows when the lump in his throat grows even bigger.
Because while his big brother usually won't pass up a chance to tease him mercilessly, Dean seems to have realized that this isn't the time to make jokes.
"Dude, you can tell me. It's nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? It happens to all guys at some point. Hell it even happened to me once or twice-"
"She didn't stand me up, okay?!" Sam snaps, breaking his brother off before Dean gets a chance to say more.
His heart is beating so fast that he feels like it might actually break out of his ribcage when he meets his brother's confused gaze.
"She didn't even want to go out with me in the first place, Dean!"
Dean's eyebrows draw together, deep frown creasing his forehead. "What do you mean- I thought she asked you out-"
"It was just a big fucking joke to her!" Sam yells, more tears spilling from his puffy eyes. "She was stringing me along, trying to see how far she could take it. She-"
Sam pauses, shaking his head against the way his heart breaks a little more in his chest. "She never even liked me. It was all just a ploy to make me the school's laughing stock."
Sam can see the exact moment when realization starts to dawn on Dean, features taking on a sharper edge, anger flaring white and hot in his gaze. "What did she do?"
Sam swallows, not really wanting to give his brother all the details when Dean is already two seconds away from storming out of the bathroom and tracking Tammy down to make her pay.
Then again, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing considering what number she pulled on him.
"She…everything seemed normal at first. We met up after school to go see the movie and then she stopped me in the hallway and-" Sam swallows, closing his eyes.
"She leaned in to kiss me and I did the same and then-" he snorts, shaking his head. "Then her friends burst out laughing and a flash went off a-and they were all just standing there pointing fingers and cheering a-and…"
Sam stops when he feels the warm palm slip from his neck to his shoulder, pulling him forward to rest against Dean's chest and it's not until his forehead brushes against the leather cord of Dean's amulet that his last resolve crumbles away and he starts gasping out huge, messy sobs into his brother's shirt, fingers tightly clasping the soft flannel that covers his brother's back.
"I'm so sorry, Sammy."
"She… s-said I was a ….fr-freak who would n-never have any f-friends-"
Dean clenches his jaw against another wave of anger, tightening his arms around his little brother's quivering back.
"She's just some stupid, arrogant chick, Sammy. What the hell does she know anyway, huh?"
"I didn't do any-anything… to any of th-them- why would she-?" Sam chokes in between shuddering intakes of breath, voice dripping with sadness and the longing for normality, for friends and acceptance.
Dean closes his eyes, his own heart breaking at his brother's devastation. "Doesn't matter, dude. Forget about her, alright?"
Dean sighs, when his brother only proceeds to cry harder against his chest.
"I mean it Sam. If she can't see you for the awesome person you really are, she doesn't deserve you, simple as that…"
Sam just clutches his big brother tighter and takes a deep breath, smelling gun oil and leather and something else that is entirely Dean beneath it all.
When his crying starts to finally cease, Dean claps his back a few times before pulling back to look into Sam's eyes.
"Listen here, Sammy. No matter what that conniving bitch and her followers think… you're not a freak. I know that for a fact. And the only reason you don't happen to have so many friends is because we are moving around so much. It has nothing to do with the way you look, or with the way you are in here…"
Dean taps the skin above Sam's heart with his fingers, eyes intense as their gazes lock over the distance between their bodies.
"Anybody in their right mind would be honored to have a friend like you, Sammy. And I'm sure there are millions of girls out there that would love to date you. Just you wait and see… they'll be standing in line for you, little brother."
Sam forces the corners of his lips into a watery smile, thankful for his brother's attempt to make him feel better.
"One day you'll be a hotshot lawyer or something with long wavy hair and ripped abs and a stunning girl by your side."
Sam's watery fake-smile turns a little more genuine at that.
"And you'll be standing in the middle of some drug store when this ugly chick with the crying brat on her arm bumps into you and she'll turn around only to find out that this Adonis in front of her-"
Sam rolls his eyes at his brother's story, wiping the wetness from his cheeks.
"Well, she'll find out that this incredibly good-looking, successful Mr. Popular in front of her is nobody else but the guy she was stupid enough to pass-up in high school."
And that's all it takes to finally stop the flow of tears, Sam's smile turning dimpled, even when he bows his head, messy bangs falling into his face as he blushes.
"Thanks for turning me into a modern version of the ugly duckling…" he murmurs with a soft sniff, unable to keep the amusement from his hoarse voice.
Dean frowns at him before straightening up into a standing position. "Dude. I don't even know what the heck you're talking about."
He holds out a hand towards Sam and then pulls him up, ruffling his hair when the teenager stumbles into him from the force of the momentum. "Careful there princess…"
"Shut up, jerk."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever bitch."
Sam grins, despite his heavy heart, feeling an unknown weight lift from his shoulder.
All things are not well yet and Sam still feels kind of terrible.
But maybe Dean is right. Maybe things are going to look up for them in the future.
And maybe….just maybe… the universe doesn't hate Sam that much after all, because otherwise it would have never given him a big brother as awesome as Dean.
And who knows? Maybe he would end up in that imaginary drugstore someday…
Stranger things have happened.
The End.
So what did you think, guys? Good? Bad? I must admit that I am tempted to actually write a scene where Sam and Jess or Sam and Dean stumble across that girl during a later point in their lives and she's all embarrassed and fake-friendly and drooling over him but he's like "Nahhh... you lost your chance- sorry." hahaha...