Summary: Post Pilot. On the last day in Stanford after searching for the demon, Sam has a break down, finally letting out his emotions over Jessica's death. Dean is there, but he is not sure how help him.
Authors notes: Hello everyone:) I hope you are enjoying the summer! Just wanted to say, that in episode two, Dean mentions that they stayed in Stanford for a week to dig around for clues. It gave me a few ideas, and this one-shot was easily written. I love writing a hurt Sam and a comforting Dean! Hehe. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review! Thanks a lot.
Follow me into the sea
We'll drown together and immortalize you and me
Leave behind this lonely town
We're both better than this, it's not worth being down.
- The Spill Canvas – This Is For Keeps
This Is For Keeps
The sky was painted with clouds, veiling the stars, as Dean stepped out of the car. It was cold, too cold for Dean's liking. His brother seemed unbothered by it, and not wanting Sam to notice, he rearranged his leather jacket, hoping it would somehow help. He was glad they were going inside for a while. Sam reluctantly entered the motel room. Ever since that day, Dean had closely kept an eye on him. So he was walking behind him now, watching his tense back with hard eyes.
The room had barely been used, for they had been continuously searching for clues, trying to find the fire demon. Jessica's killer... Unfortunately, they had not found anything, and Dean was sensing that the bastard had departed already.
Dean was surprised over Sam's... How should he put it...? Calmness over the situation... It also bothered him slightly. Sam was supposed to be crying his eyes out. But there was only a clear dullness in them, filling them with a strange darkness. His stone face was still securely in place. He could always see an intense motivation radiate from him when they were trying to track down the demon during the day, but otherwise, there was a lack of emotion. He was stoic and... hard. Hard was the perfect word to describe him. They had barely spoken about all the shit that had happened, and Sam was usually open, to Dean anyway. Dean even tried lightening the mood on several occasions, with jokes and soft words. But Sam was only silent.
Silent.
Dean would usually force his problems out, but he didn't know how to approach this one.
Several days had passed already, and no traces had been discovered. Nothing, nada... It was time to go. They had to leave. It annoyed Dean to no end, but Sam couldn't stay here. This lonely place only haunted him. He was concerned over how Sam would react to his suggestion of hitting the road. Somehow, he knew that Sam was sharing his thoughts, but he wasn't saying anything.
Sam robotically approached his bed, and started rummaging through his bag with eager hands.
"Sam?" Dean called, softly. Sam stopped his sharp movements, but did not answer him. Dean's worry just grew a 100 times bigger, causing his heart to jump up to his throat.
"Come on, man. Talk to me." Dean urged, as he walked up to his little brother with a rare gentleness in his eyes. He was fed up of avoiding the subject, and decided to be direct.
"We can't leave yet." Sam blurted out, giving him a harsh glance. Could Sam read minds or something?
"We have to, Sam. There is nothing here... It's gone." Dean said, ignoring the look that Sam was giving him. It was almost spiteful.
"There has to be something! We can't stop yet. We have to find that son of a bitch!" Sam shouted, finally facing Dean and staring directly into his hazel eyes. Anger... There was only anger there, in those orbs.
"We will, Sam, but not here; not now. Look, I know-"
"You know what, Dean? How I feel? You don't know anything about what I'm going through right now! I should have done something... I..." He interrupted Dean, but his words diminished slowly.
"This was not your fault, Sam... None of it..." Dean cut in sharply. His eyes were so strong.
"You don't know... Dean... Just shut up!" Sam said, his voice breaking more and more. Dean caught a bit of bitterness, but chose to ignore it. Sam lowered his head, his eyes covered by his chocolate curls. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam pulled away suddenly.
"We can't leave, not yet!" Sam roared, before rapidly making his way towards the bathroom. Dean gave him a questioning, worried glance, before trying to catch up with him, but the slamming door was his only welcome.
Naturally, he raised his fist to knock on the door, hell, he actually wanted to smash the thing down, but his arm would not complete the movement. Sam's overwhelming feelings were getting to him to. He had to be strong, so he could help his brother through this crap. He brought a trembling hand to his face, rubbing it nervously, trying to pull himself together. For his sake... Just for good measures, he stepped around the room, as if walking would release the tight feeling in his entire body.
'Sam...'
He sighed, stood still for a moment, before yet again hastily approaching the bathroom door, but before he could execute any action, the door was swung open, revealing a tearful face. His eyes were no longer dull, but shining like distant stars. Sam's sorrowful expression, gave Dean a blend of relief and worry. He was finally letting out everything, which he had kept suppressed within himself. It was about time he let it out, although Dean hated to see Sam in so much pain. They stared at each other, for a few moments, before Sam released a sob.
"She's gone Dean, she's..." He made out, before sliding down the doorframe. Dean watched him briefly, before he slowly approached him and was by his side, kneeling down in front of him.
"Sam..." He said, and for the first time in a long time, Dean attentively slid his fingers through Sam's long hair. It was such an automatic action. the only thing he thought of that would somehow calm his brother. He used to do it when they were kids, when they were stuck in situations like this. Sam looked up at him, eyes shining and full of old tears.
It felt strange, for Dean. It had been four years since he had comforted his little brother. The long distance did something to you. Sam leaned his head against Dean's strong shoulder, staining his shirt with tears. Dean's body stiffened only for a moment, before realization hit him hard. Sam needed this. More than anything, and Dean was willing to allow a chick flick moment to slide if it was absolutely necessary... Well, not really, but now, he was. Hell, his girlfriend had just died. Sam needed him to pick up the pieces.
"It's okay, man. I got you." Dean reassured. He rested his hand on the back of Sam's head as he continued to weep.
They remained just like that for a few minutes. As long as it took, Dean thought...
"I know." He heard Sam whisper as he finally raised his head, pulling away from him with a small, grateful smile on his face. Tears still lingered, but he looked stronger. A little bit.
Dean stood up erectly, before offering Sam his hand. His brother stared at it for a moment, before grasping it and Dean helped him stand.
Dean would always do that, no matter what.
"So, do you want to go?" Dean asked, carefully. Sam's jaw tightened slightly, looking briefly away thoughtfully, before he nodded with agreement.
"Alright... Just don't slam anymore doors in my handsome face." Dean joked, nudging his brother lightly. And Sam smiled a little more.
They quickly packed their bags, and during that process, Dean heard Sam's weak voice.
"Thanks, Dean."
Dean looked up at him, gave him his warm, signature smirk, and threw his bag over his shoulder.
"No problem. Now let's go kick some evil ass."
This pain would not last forever, but Dean lending a shoulder for Sam to lean on, that would last.
One of my simpler pieces. I hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a review. :) Lots of love.
- Curlybear
