Closing in
"Open the door," Dean had been knocking for over two minutes, and was now preparing himself to reel back and kick the door down.
The luggage-dragging, bar-tending servant who, Dean preferred to call the 'dumbwaiter' of the Inn, had been more than happy with the free information that his brother had way over his two beer maximum. They were Kansas boys, but now Sam was the one who broke the spell and acted like he was from Texas.
"Sam," His fists were balled now, and he was in his stance; his brother unresponsive on the other side. "Open the damn door. Now."
"No Dean," A meek, almost furtive sounding response finally came. "Go away."
His hands were still clenching. "I will not go away."
"Fine," He could hear Sam let out an exaggerated sigh, and then his gaze flowed to the carpet. It really needed to be vacuumed. "So then confirm something for me."
Dean lifted his head up to be stared back at competitively by the door. It was chiding him to knock it down and rescue Sammy. The evil was closing in, he could feel it. It was the road block; the obstacle between him and his brother – it represented the demon, their father, everything that had ever happened since Sam was alive. Dean stifled a laugh. No, none of this was Sam's fault. "Anything," The older man nodded, little brother.
"Tell me that I have failed," Dean blinked, a long thirty second blink, and then he realized he was holding his breath.
"What?"
"Tell me that I have failed," The door was opening, Dean could feel it give way underneath him; and then Sam was giving him the fierce, gritted gaze, whiffs of booze translating the reason.
"You haven't," Dean caught himself before he fell, and Sam's head seemed to throw itself back and laugh.
"Tell me, big bro, you've got to."
Ice crawled up and down Dean's back, and then seeped slowly into his heart. "How have you failed?"
This brought his younger brother's head down. "Mom, then Jess, Dad, and now Ava. What happens if I loose you too?"
Dean looked around; realizing that he was standing in the doorway still, closer then out of the room, but the separation was still there.
"You haven't failed Sam," Dean stepped in avoiding his brother's scowling gaze, Sam was drunk, maybe he should just comply.
"Tell me that I have Dean, tell me," Oh shit, Dean swallowed hard. Next he'll ask me to make promises…
"Fine Sam," It was a lie, Sam could see right through him, just like when they were using aliases. "You've failed."
"Good," Sam moved over to his bed and sat down, determined as ever. "Now promise me," here it comes…"Promise me that if I hurt anyone else…"
"No," Dean shook his head stubbornly, looking around the musty room. "No, absolutely not."
"Dad ordered-"
"Dad's orders can go to hell; Sammy you're not a monster, and under no circumstances will I do what dad asked me."
"Dean…" Sam was grinding his teeth – drunk and angry. "I'm meant for war; I'm meant to kill – kill for the Demon."
"We'll change that, Sam."
"How?"
"I don't know Sam, but I'll figure out a way."
"Figure out a way before you end up getting killed too? Maybe Gordon was right after all," Now the younger brother was pacing, perusing the answer that he wanted. "And Dean, you never did answer me if you really did make that deal; the one at the Crossroads."
"So what if I did?" The twenty eight year old stood unbothered; arms crossed, watching his brother come to a screeching stop.
"You didn't, Dean," Sam shook his head, denying. "You didn't."
"You need to go to sleep, Sam; you're drunk." This time, fighting his thoughts of staying in the room, he left, his brother watching after him.
The two little girls ran by, holding hands, smiling; one throwing back a haunting gaze. The walls were beginning to close in on him, in on Sammy. All he knew was that he'd fight all of Hell and back to save his brother; secrets or no secrets, that was that.
Author's Note: Just a short musing after the creepy-doll episode ;)
I also owe a HUGE thanks to my beta Rae Artemis! Thank you for putting aside enough time to check this!