Title: Don't Forget to Remember
Author: magicsunbeam
Email: Angst
Rated: T for language
Summary: One of Sam's nightmares leads to a bit of a confession. Sorry…I suck at summaries.
Author notes: Okay, my first crack at a Supernatural fic. I've only seen a couple of episodes, so please forgive any information mishaps. Also; there was no beta-ing, so all mistakes are mine.
Dean Winchester let out a long sigh as the car reached the top of an incline in the road, only to reveal more miles of rolling, straight line tarmac. The Nevada desert stretched on for undeterminable miles on either side of the highway; flat, and parched with thin clumps of scrub and cactus, and the odd rock formation. Finally, he became bored with flicking from station to station, and grunting as the strains of Shania Twain flooded the speakers, he leaned forward and killed the radio in disgust.
He and his brother Sam had been on the road for four hours now, and while he had first liked the idea of coasting the famous Route 66 - Main Street, USA - all the way from Kansas to Vegas, he had quickly come to a stark decision. The damn road was as boring as hell. They had spent the morning in the library at Baxter Springs, Kansas, researching the shady history of some of Vegas's biggest casino's before grabbing something to eat and heading out on 66 at around 2pm.
At first had been okay, he had had his brother to talk to. However, after thirty minutes of idle chat, Sam had finally given in to fatigue and fallen into a dead sleep. Not that Dean minded. He had woken twice during the previous night to find Sam still up. The first time he had feigned sleep, and watched as the younger man paced the room in the dark. The second time Dean woke it was close to 6am and this time Sam was sitting at the window, watching the rain beat a steady path down the glass pane. He doubted sleep had come for Sam at all.
Dean glanced across at his brother. Sam was curled in a ball against the window, his arms wrapped around his chest. A breeze from the open window caught his hair and momentarily blew it out of his face revealing the dark circles around his eyes. Dean frowned as Sam flicked his hand and grunted at something in his sleep before settling back down, leaving Dean to wonder; another nightmare? A vision? God only knew.
Dean spotted a car in the distance and idly wondered how many miles away it was. That was another thing about this stretch of road; it was lonely.
A bit like me. Dean muttered under his breath.
Oh, the job he had inherited could not be described as humdrum. The constant travelling, drifting from town to town, sometimes not knowing where the next day will find you – to say nothing of the demons, ghosts and other assorted spookies. It was all stimulating stuff, but it left no time for friends or relationships. There were days when Dean resented his father for the life he had handed down to him, and there were days he had begrudged Sam his relationship with Jess. All that had changed since Jess death at the hands of an unknown demon. He had seen Sam change from a normal young man desperate for a normal life, to a man who had seemed to age over night and had become as equally determined as Dean himself to nail as many ghoul and demon asses as possible.
Sam's witnessing Jess' death had not been without draw back. At times the nightmares he suffered had him wake up yelling her name, resulting in him losing sleep for the rest of the night, and sometimes the night after. Dean came frustrated by this, mostly because there was nothing he could do or say to help. It was one thing protecting Sam from something that could be seen – but protecting him from what was in his own mind was something else.
Dean glanced at his watch. 6.50pm. Another couple of hours, he decided, and he would pull into one of the seedy, no star motels dotted along the route. It had been a long few days for both of them and they could use some rest. The sun had already lost some of its glare and heat, making the driving a little easier. Dean mused over how the desert was beginning to change colour in the sunlight. It had been yellow, but it was turning to a rich orange as the sun began to sink in the desert sky.
A second later, his musings were rudely interrupted as Sam suddenly yelled out and lurched upright in his seat. Instinct had Dean pull away from the noise and as he did so, he wrenched the steering wheel with him. For a few seconds, the Impala slewed wildly across the highway. Brakes locked, tires screeching on still hot tarmac leaving snake like tracks. After what seemed like an hour to both men, the car came to a halt at the side of the road. Dean gripped the wheel in a death lock, his knuckles as white as his face, and for a moment there was complete silence before he erupted with fury.
"For Christ sake, Sam!"
"Dean, I…" Sam tried to speak.
"What's the hell's the matter with you? Are you trying to get us killed?"
"I…" Sam tried again, but couldn't find any words.
Suddenly he felt his stomach lurch and began to clamber desperately from the car. He just made it to clump of rocks by the side of the road before he lost his breakfast. After a few minutes of painfully heaving, Sam felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on. Sit before you fall down." Dean quietly ordered as he guided Sam away from the rocks and helping him sit next to the Impala.
Feeling the car against his back, Sam raised his knees and dropped his head onto them.
Dean squatted down in front of Sam. "Here, drink some of this." He said, thrusting a bottle of water at his brother.
Sam took the bottle with shaking hands. "Thanks."
He took a swig of the water and ran it round his mouth before spitting it back out onto the tarmac. He then took a long drink of the water, before leaning his head against the car door and sighing.
For a long moment, Dean watched his brother with concern.
Sam felt the concern and said quietly, "I'm okay. It's only a dream."
"Yeah, one of too many lately."
"I'm fine Dean. Don't make a big thing out of it."
"The hell you're fine." Dean stated heatedly. "You need help to get past this, man. You need to get some real sleep."
"I can't." Sam replied flatly.
"You can, and you have to Sammy. Because if you don't, it's going to make you crazy."
"No, I mean I can't." Sam repeated. "I can't because I don't want to get past it."
For once, Dean was lost for words. He twisted himself around until he was sitting shoulder the shoulder with Sam on the tarmac.
"Okay," he finally said. "You want to explain that to me?"
Sam sighed. He knew Dean was not about to let it go, so he took a deep breath and tried to make him understand.
"I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll start to forget the details; forget what I saw – what Jess went through. I'm afraid if that happens, I'll forget how important it is that we find the son of a bitch who did it to her; who did it to mom."
Dean allowed his brain to filter his brother's words. All this time, he'd been hoping the horror would fade for Sam, and all the while Sam was welcoming it, albeit reluctantly.
"I get it, little brother. I can't say I saw what you did, but I can understand some of it. I may have only been fours years old, but I was old enough to know mom died horribly. I saw what it did to dad, and unless you do something about it, it's going to do the same to you. I'm not going to let that happen."
Sam let out a shaky sigh. "What do you want me to do, Dean? I can hardly walk into doctor's office and tell him I saw my girlfriend burst into flames on a ceiling."
"No, don't suppose that'd help, except to maybe get you committed or arrested. As soon as we finish up in Vegas, what do you say we go see Missouri?"
"Missouri? Come on, man. What's she going to do?"
"I don't know, freak." Dean retorted "But she's probably the only one out there who would understand."
Sam gave it some thought, and as much as it pained him, he realised Dean was probably right. Missouri was a good woman, Sam just wasn't sure he believed in her thing. However, he also knew he had nowhere else to go.
The warmth on their faces, and the sounds of the early evening lulled the men into a long silence as they watched the sun sink lower into the desert floor.
Suddenly Sam chuckled.
"What?"
"That's a hell of a mark you left on the road."
Dean leaned forward and looked around his brother at the tarmac at thick, black tire tracks snaked across the highway. He grinned.
"Yeah. You can't say I don't know how to handle by baby."
Sam laughed as Dean continued. "But if you ever make me do that to her again, bitch, I swear to God, you're walking."
End
