TITLE: Culpability
RATING: K
SUMMARY: Season 2 Episode 14 'Born Under a Bad Sign' tag: Dean has a question he's been meaning to ask.
WORDS: 1517
NOTES: I was rewatching this recently and it hit me that Sam had been possessed for the entire episode until the final exorcism (cut me some slack; I'm too awestruck while watching episodes to actually pay attention to small details like that) so all that remorse and fear in the beginning had just been (brilliant, beautiful, mind-blowing) acting. And then slowly this thing... happened. This story takes place a few days after the events of the episode. Enjoy!
Also, a world filled with thanks to Her Majesty's Hunter for the beta and the title. You rock!
"Hey, Sam?"
Sam turned his head toward Dean in silent inquiry.
Dean thought once more if going through with this was a good idea. Then went ahead with it anyway. Wondering how he could phrase his question without actually saying the words, Dean hesitantly continued. "Before," Sam stiffened. Oh, yeah, he gets it. "You said you felt rage and hate," Dean chanced a look away from the road to examine his brother. Sam had stopped looking at him the moment he'd understood what Dean was referring to and his body strummed with tension, anticipation, dread. Feeling pity for his little brother, but needing to know, Dean pushed on. "Was that you? Or..." he trailed off. Sam knew; nothing else needed to be said.
Sam swallowed. He'd been hoping Dean had forgotten that little piece of their conversation, considering all the events that had taken place shortly after including – but not limited to – discovering Steve Wandell's murder and Dean's own attempted murder at 'Sam's' hands. But deep down Sam had known: it was something concerning Dean's little brother. It would take a lot more than just one little shot to the shoulder and nearly drowning and being beaten to a pulp to make Dean forget. Sam sighed and said in a soft voice, as if hoping to avoid being heard. "Yes. That was... that was me, Dean."
"You wanna talk about it?" Dean genuinely offered. He wouldn't push Sam to talk about this, not just yet. It was Sam's show now.
Dean patiently waited for Sam's answer, inwardly plagued by doubt and anxiety. Maybe Sam wasn't ready yet to rehash all that had happened. Maybe this was something personal. Maybe those particular emotions had been incited by Dean and Sam hadn't told him to avoid an awkward moment.
But that last one was why Dean had to know.
With everything that had been happening in their life, one thing after the other, barely enough time to breathe in between, Dean needed to know he could depend on his brother. But more than that he needed to know Sam knew he could depend on him. So, ignoring the lump of panic slowly rising in his throat, ignoring the voice in head that insidiously whispered that he'd shattered something between him and Sam, that he'd really messed up this time by pushing too hard, Dean waited.
And breathed easier when Sam finally opened up to him. "I..." he hesitated, "Yeah, I did feel that way. But not like what Meg said." Sam's face pinched as he tried to come up with a comprehensible explanation. "She twisted it. I felt rage, yeah, but not rage. It was..." Sam let out a noise of frustration, then sighed, knowing he couldn't keep it from his brother any longer.
"I felt rage, yes. But I was angry at my destiny, at what I'm meant to become. I felt hate, yeah. Hate at..." Sam looked at his brother's face, eyes desperate and then softening, resigned, like he knew this was going to be unpleasant for Dean to hear. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Hate at what I must be doing to you, the pain I had to be causing you." Sam looked away once more and sighed. "I felt like I had no control over my life, Dean, and there was nothing I could do about it and all that just turned into negativity."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean asked quietly.
"Because I didn't wanna be more of a burden than I already am." Sam's voice was barely audible now. "I knew it would hurt you to know I was thinking this way, man, and I didn't want you to have to deal with that on top of dealing with me and my freaky powers." Dean's jaw tightened but he maintained silence. "You already have to handle so much of my crap, Dean. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd added more." And with that, Sam fell silent waiting for his brother's verdict.
Dean chewed on that a while. He'd known Sam was getting worse, fear and grief burning away at him. Dean had done everything he could have but even then it didn't seem to have been enough. However, this was a whole new angle Dean hadn't even considered. He'd known Sam had considered himself a 'burden' but he'd thought that he had killed that notion in its early stages. Apparently not. It had festered and was now this monstrosity. And Dean had believed Sam was... well, not okay, but dealing.
His brother had learned a lot of things during his years at Stanford; successfully lying to his older brother had apparently been one. He couldn't entirely blame Sam, though because he'd played a huge part in the creation of all this by not noticing as well, too busy mourning John to care much about anything else. It wasn't exactly a fault but it was his responsibility to take care of Sammy and he'd slacked on his job. It was time to get back to work and fix all that could be fixed.
Dean sighed. "Sammy... man, you really believe that don't you? You actually think what you said is true, that I think you're a burden and all that," Dean said incredulously. "For a smart guy you're acting pretty stupid."
Sam turned his head turned to look at him, confused.
"C'mon, Sam," Dean continued impatiently, riled up. "How could you ever think that I think of you as a 'burden'? Haven't I taken care of you all your life? Have I ever complained? You see me kicking and screaming?" Dean shook his head. "You shoulda told me, Sammy."
"What could you have done, Dean?" Sam asked in a small voice.
Dean's demeanor softened in the face of that tone. Sam was just scared. In the end, it all came back to Sam being scared and needing to be fixed. Dean could do that.
"We could have at least talked about it," Dean replied with gentle frustration. "Got it out there, released some tension from that thick skull of yours."
Sam made a noise of protest in interruption, but Dean cut him off.
"Lemme finish," he chided. Sam sighed. "You've always been a talker, Sam, never been able to keep it to yourself." Dean fell into a musing silence. Then quietly added "I never begrudged you that. Loved that you came to me with your problems." He met Sam's eyes resolutely, a well of unsaid words in the depths of his. "I will never begrudge you that, Sammy."
Sam exhaled, acquiescent. "How does that help us now, Dean?"
"You've also always been a dog-with-a-bone kinda person." Dean smiled at Sam fondly. "It doesn't help, I guess," he shrugged, "My point is that I don't want you to hide things from me, especially not because you think you're 'adding to my burden' or whatever crap that goes on in your brain. You like talking stuff out, so just talk it out with me, Sammy. I'm not losing my brother to some destiny crap that a son of a bitch demon thinks it can force on us."
Sam stared at Dean through the hair hiding his eyes, smiling softly at his older brother, feeling warm. "Yeah," he breathed and then lapsed into silence, expecting his brother to do the same, which is why he was surprised when Dean chuckled quietly and muttered "You couldn't keep your girly feelings inside to save your life, you know that? You've never been able to." And then he continued laughing, laughing all the harder when Sam punched him in the arm with a halfhearted glare aimed at his annoying, short, protective and loving older brother.
END
Author's note: I hope you liked it. It was actually easier to write this one compared to all the others I've written so far and I can't for the life of me figure out why. Anywho, please leave a review or a PM if you enjoyed this.