Moving On

Dean expected Sam's absence to feel like an emptiness, an open space that ached to be filled. Instead, it was a crushing weight. A weight that made it difficult to breathe, to think. As he sat on the twisted sheets of his motel mattress, Dean was torn with wanting about a hundred different things at once. A few desires were vying for top position. He wanted to take the Impala and drive out to Stanford, hauling Sam's ass back by Dean's side where Sam belonged. He wanted to drown himself in drink after drink and pretend that Sam hadn't chosen some school over him. He wanted to get his hands dirty in a hunt or a bar brawl or anything that he could channel his rage and frustration into. He wanted to forget he ever had a brother, a brother he loved so much, a brother who could hurt him so much.

o O o

Sam looked around the sparse dorm room, settling his duffel down on the mattress that was flush against the right-hand wall of the room. The walls were bare with a fresh coat of paint lit by a large window facing out onto the street. Sam looked out the window for a moment before turning to start unpacking his bag. A knock on the door made him stop. He turned, half-expecting to see a furious Dean standing in the doorway with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Instead, there was a young man with dirty blond hair smiling at Sam.

"So, you must be Sam Winchester? I'm Tyson Brady. Everyone just calls me Brady. I'm your roommate," the guy said with a smile that lit up his blue eyes. He extended his hand. Sam nodded and shook it.

"Hi. Yeah, I'm Sam. Nice to meet you," Sam said.

"Got your major picked yet?" Brady asked as he hauled a huge suitcase onto the bed against the opposite wall. The closed case took up more than half the surface of the twin bed. He unzipped it and propped it open before turning to look at Sam.

"I'm thinking pre-law. You?" Sam asked, a small smile crossing his face. There was something so satisfying about making normal, get-to-know-you small talk with someone. It was the kind of conversation his family would consider painfully dull. But for Sam, talking about majors beat coming up with battle plans for the monster of the week.

"Pre-med," Brady answered. "If all goes according to plan, I'm gonna be a pediatric surgeon. Do you know what branch of law you're interested in?"

"Cool. I'm leaning towards advocacy and pro bono work." Sam liked the idea of legal advocacy. It would provide an opportunity for him to continue to help people, maybe even save them - but without having to behead creatures or dig up corpses.

"Nice. Noble," Brady said as he unzipped his suitcase and began sorting through its contents.

"Yeah, you too. Saving kids' lives is about as noble as it gets," Sam said. Brady grinned and gave a modest little shrug. They turned back to their respective bags and unpacked in silence for a moment. Brady whistled "Hey Jude" softly as he put his suitcase on the floor and started to spread sheets onto his mattress.

"Oh, I forgot to pack sheets. I'm gonna have to pick some up later or something," Sam muttered.

"Oh, dude, no problem. My mom packed me like three sets. Here," Brady said as he tossed a brand new package of patterned tan sheets at Sam who caught them. Sam inspected the frantic paisley design for a second. "Yeah, my little sister picked 'em out," Brady explained apologetically. "She's eleven. I'm pretty sure my mom dissuaded her from getting me something in a nice lavender."

Sam laughed as he pulled the sheets from their packaging, unfolding them and starting to fit them onto his mattress. "They're great. Thank you," Sam said.

"Sure thing," Brady said. "You got any siblings?"

"Uh, yeah. An older brother." Sam cleared his throat, which felt uncomfortably tight all of a sudden. Brady didn't pursue the topic, perhaps picking up on the tender soreness that suddenly seemed to hum in the air around Sam.

o O o

The haze of alcohol didn't ease the knot in Dean's stomach. If anything, it made him queasy. He had always been rather talented at holding his liquor, but tonight, he felt ready to run to the bathroom and empty his stomach out. He figured it had little to do with the booze.

He spotted a girl stirring a drink in the corner. She had an olive complexion and wavy black hair that fell in thick sheets down to the small of her back. Dean took another swig of his drink and made his way over to her. She smiled at him and he knew he would be fucking her within the hour.

As he walked her back to his motel room, his hand resting in the dip of her back, he wondered what Sam was doing. Was he asleep in his new dorm room? Was he thinking of Dean at all? Did he miss him or regret how things had ended? Dean pulled his mind away from those thoughts, focusing them back on the woman at his side. He pulled his room key from his pocket as they approached the door and he guided her inside.

He closed the door behind them and pressed her against it, lining kisses down her neck as his fingers slipped under her shirt. He wanted to bury himself between her legs and forget about Sam. He wanted to stop wondering about him, to stop aching for him. Dean wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around to the bed. He laid her down and swiftly undid her jeans, pulling them and her underwear down and off in one slick movement. He slid his hands down her thighs, circling at her knees and moving back up, this time spreading her legs apart as his fingers traveled over her skin. He circled kisses along her inner thighs, moving in closer and closer, urged on by her sweet moans.

This was the distraction he needed. And for right now it was enough. He knew that in the morning it wouldn't be, but he forced himself to focus on tonight.

o O o

Sam scrolled to his brother's name in his contacts list, his finger lingering over the send button on his phone. He sighed and put the phone down on his desk by the bed. He lay down and stared up at the ceiling. Classes started tomorrow. He had already scoped out the locations of each one of his classrooms, explored the campus, attended an orientation, bought his textbooks at the store with the financial aid voucher that came with his tuition package, and had come back to his room to skim through the books.

While all of that had filled him with a sense of optimism and excitement for his education, there was an ache in his gut that he couldn't escape. He had been keeping busy enough now that he was on campus, but he still couldn't avoid thinking of his brother. He could ignore his father's rage, but he couldn't escape knowing how hurt Dean was. Sam ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes.

The door to his dorm opened and Brady walked in, a campus bookstore bag in each hand. "Hey. Oh, sorry. You taking a nap?"

"Nah," Sam said, sitting up and swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

"Do you wanna go out for something to eat? I was talking to this guy after orientation about a really good pizza place a few blocks from our end of campus," Brady said, walking over to his bed and putting his bags down.

"Yeah, sure. That sounds good," Sam said with a nod. He followed Brady out and silently counseled himself to focus on his new life here. There was plenty to be excited about and grateful for; a full ride, a roommate that seemed like a genuinely good guy... But Sam's mind still slunk back to his brother who, at that moment, was probably in a seedy little motel room or a bar or else putting his life in danger for some stupid hunt. Reckless and hopeless and beautiful. Sam shook his head, again trying to dispel Dean from his mind as he walked beside Brady.

o O o

Dean shimmied back into his jeans, his cell phone falling out of his pocket as he pulled his pants up all the way. He leaned down and scooped the phone off the floor, squeezing it in his hand for a moment before replacing it in his pocket and zipping up his jeans. He stepped into his boots and slipped his shirt back on, doing a final sweep of the room with his eyes to make sure he had everything. His attention was brought back to the bed as he heard the girl shifting there.

"Mm, what time is it?" she asked blearily.

Shit, Dean thought, What was her name? It didn't really matter. It sounded callous, but she had served her purpose. He was sure she was a very nice girl, but he just didn't care. "Um, it's almost eleven. I gotta go," Dean said. "The room's paid for 'til noon. I really have to get to work. Sorry. But, uh, I had a nice time, so... thanks," he added before slipping from the room. He felt a little bad for brushing her off like that, but he quickly shook himself from that mindset. Given the events of the previous night, it seemed they were both in for something casual. That was exactly what they had gotten. Any obligations ended when the night did.

He wondered if Sam felt the same way about Dean and John. Did he think his obligations ended for his father and brother now that he was away at school? Was that part of why he went - to escape them and the responsibilities they tied to him?

Dean unlocked the Impala and slid into the driver's seat. All Sam's talk about a normal life... It had been more than just getting away from hunting, it had been about getting away from Dean and how they were when they were with each other. Nothing about their lives was normal - not what their father had trained them to be, not the feelings they had for each other. Dean bit back a laugh at Sam's naive desperation, thinking he could escape by burying his nose in some books in California.

"You're a freak no matter what, Sammy," Dean whispered to himself as he started up the Impala's engine. The spite in his voice softened slightly. "But I guess I am too."

So, this started as a sort of appendix/second epilogue to Wayward Sons, but I think it stands on its own. It doesn't specifically reference anything in WS and since it's only a one-shot, it didn't make sense to classify it as a sequel to a 100-something chapter fic. Anyway, hope you liked it (angst and all). Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!

~a