Its cold. Or at least he thinks it is. Sam's not so sure anymore. He's not so sure of anything anymore.
He's not sure that they actually stopped the apocalypse. That Cas is alive and back to full naïve angel status. That Bobby is walking around. That he himself is not seeing Lucifer when no one else can't.
That Dean's not in hell.
He's especially unsure of that last one, because only hell's best would think of this way to torture the brothers after everything they've been through.
"Does it hurt?"
"I'm fine, Dean. Seriously."
Sammy doesn't even get angry, he just sits by the window in what they've been referring to as Bobby's living room since Dean was five, smiling in his goofy way at the birds chasing each other around the scraps of an old Ford Focus.
Enjoying life.
Dean can't deal like that. What he needs is to break something, to cry and yell at a God he's still not sure he believes in for punishing him. Punishing him for needing and loving the one consistent in his life even after all he's done to save the son of a bitch's creations.
What he does is nothing. It's what he always does.
And that's probably what hurts Sam the most.
Besides the unspoken agreement between them that he's obviously not okay. Not even a little.
"Does it hurt?"
Sam chokes up every time he hear those words, and maybe that's what causes him to never directly answer. Maybe it his own cowardice. Maybe he's trying to protect his brother from even more pain. Maybe it's all of the above, he doesn't know anymore.
"I'll never leave you."
The words leave a bad taste in Sam's mouth, so he stutters a "Not really anyways" onto the end and swallows hard.
And if Dean tries to act indifferent as he throws an arm around his brother's shoulders and pulls him tight to his chest, Sam's not ready to complain just yet.
Sam shifts in his bed, trying to find at least a semi comfortable spot even though he's supposed to stay as still as possible for the treatments
"Does it hurt?"
The whisper breaks through the silence that has been seeping through the phone line for the past five minutes, but Sam's so used to the question he just sighs softly, his heart warming at the childish tone to Dean's voice.
"Not really," he says finally, and surprisingly find he means it, "it sort of burns, but I can't complain if it'll fix me."
Sam's not surprised to hear the dial tone seconds later.
Both he and Dean know there's no fix to this.
Over the next few months Sam's patience wears thin through his exhaustion. The treatments are taking a lot out of him and it's starting to settle in that he's going to die. It terrifies him.
He can't leave Dean like that. He can't just drop off the face of the earth and leave Dean alone, but he has no choice. It's when Dean asks him again that everything that he thought he hadn't been feeling floods out.
"Does it hurt?"
"I don't know Dean. Does it?" His brother blinks at him, shocked.
"What?" he stutters, his face closed off and cold, the same way it's been for months now. It's the one thing that makes Sam angry, makes him want to curse and punch things. He wants to shake Dean until he gets his brother….his boyfriend back before he dies.
"Does it hurt?" he yells, voice hoarse with lack of use and anger. "When you see me? When I can't walk because the chemo's taken too much out of me? To feed me when I can't get out of bed in the morning? I can't stand all this avoidance crap anymore Dean! I can't! I'm going to die okay? I have fucking lung cancer! I need you to accept it already an-…" The brunette's mouth slams shut as he's cut off violently with Dean in his face, the shorter man's hands slammed into Sam's shirt collar, and the younger brother watches him falter between pulling his everything closer and pushing him away
"You want to know if it hurts Sammy?" he starts, his eyes already blinking back the water in his eyes "To know if it hurts to know the one thing I've always had will be gone? To be honest? No, it doesn't hurt, not unless I walk, or unless I try to speak….. I don't feel anything unless I think of you…... I don't even feel the need to cry except if I open my damn eyes. Okay? As long as I don't do anything I'm fine!…I'm fine!"
And when Dean collapses into sobs, Sam somehow maneuvers his sore and aching body onto the floor and pulls Dean into his chest, stroking his soft hair with his gaunt hands.
It's not over.
But for now it's enough.
I know you're good, I know you're right., I know you mean the best every time you stop by. Don't know what to say, don't know how to act, cause I'm still moved by you, cause you just have to ask.
No, it doesn't hurt, unless I walk. I don't feel any pain, unless I try to talk. I don't even cry, unless I open my eyes. I don't need to kick, or scream, or curse. No, it doesn't hurt.
You don't have to call to make sure I'm up. cause I'm still wide awake, cause I'm still lost, and shocked. I know you're concerned, I know you're just sick and I know you'd feel better if I were over it.
No, it doesn't hurt, unless I walk. I don't feel any pain, unless I try to talk. I don't even cry, unless I open my eyes. I don't need to kick, or scream, or curse. No, it doesn't hurt.
I am wind. I am the sand. I am skin. I am woman. And I'm fine, and I deserve, the time to feel hurt.
I know you're good, I know you're freaked, and I know it's safer if you would just let me be. Cause what will you say that you haven't said, the question you ask me just makes me feel better you left.
So it doesn't hurt, unless I move. I don't feel anything, unless I think of you. I don't even cry, unless I open my eyes. I don't need to kick, or scream…No, it doesn't hurt, unless I walk. I don't feel any pain, unless I try to talk. I don't even cry, unless I open my eyes. I don't need to kick, or scream, or curse. No, it doesn't hurt…