A/N: I can't explain the premise behind this short one shot or why I wrote it without someone thinking I've gone completely off the rails crazy, but I need to get this out there worse than I need my next breath.
The motel curtains were thicker than most, lying still against the window and blocking the majority of the garish light from the flickering neon vacancy sign outside the window, giving the room more darkness- stillness- than usual. The room itself was quiet, for once well constructed and sheltering the occupant inside from the interstate noise and the breezy spring night outside.
His breathing was the only sound in the room, quiet but seeming to be absorbed by the wallpaper and allowing the walls to share a breath with him. Reflecting the rustle of his sheets back at him. He was alone, split from his usual company. Separate from the usual noises that come with that company, the scratch of short hair against the pillowcase, the tap of a silver ring off the hilt of an iron knife muffled by a flat pillow. He didn't know where his usual company was and he was searching frantically. Days upon days he was looking until sheer exhaustion forced him to seek the bed or wind up sharing space in the grill of an 18-wheeler with the various insect life from the truck's journey across the last fifteen states. He could practically see the broken wings of a butterfly on display as if pinned to satin beneath a glass case.
Another breath was pulled in and expelled, quietly and gently taken and tossed back at him by the walls. A rasp of skin over cotton as he moved, rolling his head into the pillow. The barely audible flutter of his eyelashes against the pillowcase as his eyes scrunched tight, and finally the louder noise of a slight moan as his stomach twisted in knots, a deep pit opening up inside him that his soul seemed to sink into. The walls took and held his last breath, the whispered name his lips had released, pain searing through his heart, his gut, as surely as if he'd been stabbed and he curled in on himself, unable to wake up just yet. He felt the presence of the one he'd been looking for-searching for- with every fiber he had.
"I have to go, but I'll always be watchin' out for you, no matter what." He heard the voice he knew better than he knew himself, stopping him from asking his next question before it dawned on his mind and flew from his lips. Behind his closed eyes he saw a crooked grin and shining eyes and heard a soft drawl of "I'll see ya, Sammy." He felt it there as real as if that person had sat down on the edge of his bed and gripped his shoulder, waking him. It was there and then it was gone, a feeling of loss/love/peace, of goodbye, washing over him. His eyes shot open and he sat up on the bed, the walls bouncing the gasped breath- the whispered name- back at his ears.
In that second, as he looked around the room, his stomach unclenched and his churning mind settled on the peaceful feeling washing over him. "Love you, little brother."
He laid back on the bed, his forearm going up over his eyes, trying to stop the tears from leaving their blue green prisons. It didn't work as the wayward little droplets escaped from the cracks at the corners and ran for freedom in the tangle of his hair at his temples. He knew, as the walls reflected hollow silence back at him, that he was alone.
On the bedside table his phone rang, the plastic case vibrating over the wooden surface. He reached for it with once hand, unwilling to lower his other arm to look at the display. "Hello?" His voice cracked and he held his breath when the person on the other end began to speak.
"Sam? We found your brother." There was a beat of silence on the other end. "I'm so sorry to tell you this over the phone… but he's gone."
Sam's voice was silent, but his soul screamed. I know! He told me!
"Sam? Are you there? You okay?"
Sam's mind went back to the last words he heard, the touch he felt, the peace and heartbreak all rolled into one single beat of his heart. Love you, little brother. "I think so."