Dean's Secret
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Disclaimer: I don't own 'em and I'm certainly not making any money off of them.
Author's Note: I haven't disappeared; really I haven't! I've been working on something for publication and as soon as I have the details, I'll add them to my profile.
There's a little bit of potty language in this, but I don't think it's too horrendous.
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There is luxury in self reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel no one else has a right to blame us - Oscar Wilde
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Guilt is the very nerve of sorrow - Horace Bushnell
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Sam and Dean Winchester had spent too much working lately. Things had been busy in the supernatural world and they'd been going from job to job without much of a break in between for months. They were emotionally and physically exhausted and some time off the road would have been nice. They should know to be careful what they wish for.
"This sucks," Dean complained as he leaned against the window, staring into the parking lot. "Look at the car, man. She's covered in snow."
"So are the roads," Sam said from across the room, television remote in his hand.
Dean turned to face him. "Don't say it."
"The highway is closed."
"I told you not to say it," Dean grumbled.
"We're stuck here for a couple of days."
"Stop talking."
Sam grinned to himself as Dean flopped onto his bed. He wasn't good with nothing to do. While Sam could be entertained for hours with a book, his brother didn't like to read for pleasure unless it was a car magazine.
"I can't believe we're stuck in the middle of nowhere," Dean groused. "We really need to do more jobs where it doesn't snow. What the hell are we going to do here for a couple of days?"
"Or longer."
Dean cast his brother a dirty look. "Longer?"
Sam tried to look serious. "They might not be able to get the highway cleared enough to open it soon; especially if keeps snowing."
"Shut up, Sam."
He knew Dean wasn't really mad at him, but he also knew when to stop pushing. They were stuck in this small town and there weren't a lot of options for privacy, short of renting a second room. If he kept poking at his brother, he would end up paying the price himself. A bored Dean was bad enough and an angry Dean was something he could definitely do without.
When the weather turned bad, they'd been on their way to a new job; a reported haunting at a museum. Sam had been following the news reports for a few weeks, but when several kids in a class of first graders were attacked during a field trip, he and Dean decided it was time for them to intervene. It had only been 2:00 in the afternoon, but when the Impala nearly slid off of the icy road for the fourth time, even Dean admitted they had to stop. They hole up at a diner, hoping the weather would improve. When it didn't, Dean grudgingly agreed to rent a room at the motel next door.
Four hours later, Dean was already antsy.
"Let's go see if we can find some entertainment."
Sam looked up from the book he was reading. "You're kidding."
"It's not snowing anymore and it's still early. There has to be something to do."
Sam sighed and put the book aside. Normally, he wasn't particularly interested in Dean's brand of entertainment, but he decided it would probably be better to keep an eye on his brother for a while. They asked the clerk in the motel office about places to go and were told there was a bar around the corner, about a half mile away. After checking the condition of the street, the brothers decided to walk.
The bar was actually part of a restaurant and not exactly what Dean was looking for, but better than nothing. At least there was alcohol and a dart board in the back. The place was far from busy and they practically had their pick of tables. Settling near the dart board, they ordered beer and Dean turned his attention to the game while Sam pulled out the book he'd been reading in the motel room.
Being out in public did nothing to improve Dean's mood. If anything, it got worse. There were no women to hit on, no pool table so no way to hustle for extra cash and all but two darts were missing. Sam had no problem making it an early night, but he knew the next day would only be harder for his brother.
"Let's stop at that gas station near the motel and grab some junk food," Sam suggested. "We can get some beer, too."
Dean only grunted.
"Come on, man, at least try. There's nothing we can do about the weather and you're only going to make yourself more miserable. Besides, we could both use some time off."
Dean unconsciously rubbed the arm that had been sliced open in a recent hunt. It was healing and not overly painful, but there had been no time to rest after the injury and it was a reminder that Sam was right about them needing a break. He glanced at Sam and in addition to the worry lines around his mouth, he saw the overall haggard look to his face and nodded.
While Dean looked at the magazines, Sam wandered around the small store picking up supplies for the night. He smiled when he came across a travel chess game hanging from a clip at the end of an aisle. There had been a lot of time to kill in motel rooms when they were kids and playing chess became a favorite pastime for a while. He threw it in the basket he was carrying and headed to the counter. Dean joined him, adding a couple of magazines into the mix, then walked away, leaving Sam to pay and carry the bags outside.
They trudged their way back to the motel room. As Dean closed the door behind them, he sighed seeing it was starting to snow again.
"How about a movie?" Sam suggested, sitting on his bed and picking up the remote control.
Dean shrugged. "Sure, what's on?"
After the movie, a mindless action flick that kept Dean mildly entertained, Sam turned the channel to an early news program. It was no surprise that the big story was the winter storm that had stalled over the area. Dean mumbled something about hating the snow as he reached for one of the magazines they'd gotten earlier. Sam smiled to himself and turned his attention back to the television. He couldn't help but notice that his brother tired of the magazine a few minutes later and moved to the window.
It was true that they both needed a time-out from hunting and the storm was a good excuse to stay off the road for a while, but a forced break wasn't always restful. And hanging around in a dingy motel room wasn't exactly Dean's idea of relaxing….unless he was hanging around in a dingy motel room with a leggy blonde. Sam's legs were long, but not what Dean had in mind.
He knew he was being difficult, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He hadn't gotten on Sam's nerves too much yet and he knew his little brother would forgive him even if he went too far. That's what they did; they forgave each other. It's what brothers did. It's what friends did.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean turned from the window. "You want anything while I'm up?"
Sam looked at him, a little surprised. "No, I'm good. Thanks."
"Okay. I'm gonna take a shower."
Sam nodded. For as long as Sam could remember, they'd rarely been separated. Well, if you didn't count the two years they were out of contact when Sam was at Stanford. They knew each other's body language, they knew each other's moods and they knew how far they could push each other. Despite all of this, Sam wasn't sure what was going on with his brother. He didn't think it was just being stuck in the small town; maybe the exhaustion and frustration of the last couple of months had just caught up to him.
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Dean stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in days and that was almost true. Maybe it was a good thing there hadn't been any women to hit on earlier; he probably would have scared them off anyway.
Finally, he stepped into the shower and let the hot water cascade over his head and down his back. The water pressure wasn't too bad for a cheap motel and his tense muscles were loosening up a little bit. He stretched one arm out and leaned against the wall. He liked it when things were busy because it gave him less time to think. The downside, of course, was that more people were suffering and he didn't like that. The supernatural should just leave this world alone, but he didn't think that would ever happen. There was always going to be something evil to fight.
Feeling the water starting to cool, Dean quickly finished his shower and pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He expected to find Sam sleeping, but though he was under the covers, he was still sitting up with the television on. For a moment, Dean saw him as a younger version of him and not his 23-year old brother. Sam noticed his stare.
"What?" he asked.
Dean shook his head and flopped onto his own bed. "Nothing."
Sam tossed the remote control to Dean and stretched out. "I'm tired."
"I guess I'll turn in, too."
"You can watch TV if you want; it won't keep me awake."
Dean shrugged. He felt too restless to sleep, but he didn't think watching television was the answer. He got out of bed.
"Where are you going?"
"Out to the car; maybe I'll bring in the guns and clean them."
Sam looked at his brother curiously, but said nothing.
Dean slipped into his coat and pulled on his boots, all under Sam's watchful eye. He knew he was under scrutiny and he knew he was acting strange, but he just didn't have the energy to put on his usual game face. If it was anyone but Sam, he'd have been able to do it. Maybe. But Sam had known him forever and learned to read him better than Dean liked to admit.
Sighing to himself, Dean walked out into the cold.
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The snow was falling, but not as hard as before. The cloud cover made the night seem darker, but it fit Dean's mood. He glanced around while heading for the car and was struck by the utter silence around him. There were no cars on the road, no people out and about. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be stuck in a snow storm. He didn't…..
Squaring his shoulders, Dean pulled the car keys from his pocket and opened the Impala's trunk. It was the one thing in his life that was completely in order. He knew exactly what was in it and everything was always precisely where it should be.
The weapons were perfectly maintained; Dean was almost obsessive compulsive about it. His dad taught him to respect the guns and part of that meant caring for them and making sure they were always ready for action. If he didn't let them down, they wouldn't let him down. He opened an empty canvas bag and packed some of the guns inside. They almost never had all the weapons in one place; never put all the eggs in one basket and all that. He left some in the trunk and grabbed a few of the knives for sharpening and cleaning.
He stood just in side the room, slipping out of the snow covered coat and looked at his brother. Sam was asleep and his always unruly hair had fallen into his eyes. Like earlier, Dean saw a younger version of him; it was another motel room, another snow storm….Dean had to literally shake his head to clear the image then he quietly set up an area to work on the small table across the room.
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Dean wasn't normally plagued with dreams; at least none that he remembered the next day. Once in a while, though, like the night before, he was barely able to sleep. After finishing with the weapons, he had grudgingly gotten into bed and eventually fallen into a broken sleep. This morning he felt worse than before and didn't think he'd be able to keep Sam from noticing.
Sam had been sleeping soundly when Dean finally gave up getting any more himself. Throwing off the covers, he was hit with a blast of cold and turned the heater up on his way to the window. He looked out, hoping to find the snow had melted, but there was no such luck. His next stop was the bathroom and then the coffee maker.
The first thing Sam noticed when he woke up was that his brother was sitting in the same spot he'd been in when he woke briefly the night before. He'd watched Dean for a few minutes, expertly cleaning the guns. Sam rarely had to clean a weapon because it was something Dean enjoyed doing and could complete the task with his eyes closed. Unlike the night before, Dean had a cup of coffee in front of him instead of guns and cleaning supplies.
"Hey," Sam said as he tossed off the covers.
Dean glanced at him. "Hey."
When Sam returned from the bathroom, he poured a cup of coffee and joined Dean at the table.
"Did you get any sleep?"
Dean nodded, avoiding Sam's eyes. "Yeah."
"You want to go out, see if we can find some breakfast? We could pick up a newspaper –"
"I'm not hungry."
Sam tried not to look too concerned. Dean was always hungry.
"You know, while we're stuck here, we may as well do some laundry. I remember seeing a place not too far down the road."
"Yeah." Dean agreed quietly.
Sam took a long sip of coffee, watching his brother closely while appearing disinterested.
"Looked yesterday like the local streets were being kept pretty clear. We can take a drive through town and see what else is here."
Dean nodded. "I guess."
"I'll take a shower and get ready."
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When they left the room, it was just after 9:00 and the businesses they passed were just beginning to open. The air was cold and the sky threatened more snow. They had the Laundromat to themselves and decided to use several of the washing machines at once.
"I did some checking before we left the room, "Sam said later. There's a mall not too far away –"
"A mall?" Dean sounded disgusted and Sam hid a smile.
"It's somewhere warm to spend a little time. There's a theater –"
"Bookstore?" Dean asked.
"Well, yeah," Sam shrugged.
"You check on the highway conditions?"
"It doesn't look good."
Dean nodded and started piling their clothes into the empty duffle bags. "So, you wanna drop this stuff off at the room, grab something to eat and then do some shopping? I'm sure you'll be able to find a book or ten."
Sam shrugged. He really wanted to do anything but sit in their motel room, but he didn't want to push Dean. It wasn't that they had to do everything together, but he was worried about his brother and felt that he needed to be close.
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Sam realized quickly that Dean suggested they eat only for his benefit. His brother ordered bacon and eggs, but very little of the food actually left the plate. He was quiet, but Sam could tell he was trying to be decent company. The silences were long, but not particularly uncomfortable.
By the time they got to the mall, it was nearly noon. It wasn't the largest mall they'd ever seen, but since school had been cancelled for the day, the stores were full of young people. They walked through a sporting goods store with an eye for anything that might be useful in their line of work. Finding nothing, the next stop was a music store with an unusually large selection of classic rock. Dean refused to add a CD player to the Impala, but Sam had rigged up a way to listen to an mp3 player over the speakers and once in a while he was even able to play music he liked while they were on the road. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Dean's beloved classic rock, but he preferred something more modern. Knowing he could get lost in a bookstore for hours, Sam saved it for last. Luckily there was a large magazine section for his brother to browse. He noticed that Dean kept coming to find him, but his brother didn't rush his perusal of new releases.
When they had spent time in all the stores that held any kind of interest, they checked out the theater and were just in time for a movie they'd wanted to see. Dean attacked his popcorn happily and was in a decidedly better mood after the movie. Until they got back on the road to the motel, anyway. It was worse inside the room and, by the time Sam was ready for dinner, Dean was completely withdrawn.
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Dean could feel Sam's eyes on him and knew his brother recognized the mood change. He'd tried to fight it when he felt himself becoming despondent, but he didn't have anything to take his mind off of it. He didn't have to look out of the window to know another storm was moving in and it had started to snow again.
Nervous energy was battling depression and the end result was some weird mix that he couldn't explain. He wanted to be anywhere but trapped in this town, surrounded by snow. He wished there was a job close enough to get to, or a decent bar to hang out in. He wanted to kill something or fuck something….he wondered where people went to hook up. If he could just stop thinking about….
"What's for dinner, man?" Sam interrupted his thoughts. "I'm hungry and if we don't get something soon, we'll be out of luck."
"I don't know. Think there's a pizza place that will deliver?"
Sam reached for the phone book. "Let's find out."
There was a listing for one pizza restaraunt, but didn't offer delivery service. It was located less than five miles from the motel so Sam placed an order, intending to pick it up himself. Dean insisted on going along and they left the room a few minutes later. There was a convenience store next to the restaurant and the brothers went inside to restock the junk food and beverages.
Dean made a few comments about the weather, complained about being cold, but overall his mood was slightly improved. Sam realized that the room seemed to be cause of Dean's negativity and when they got back to the motel, he asked his brother to open the trunk of the car.
"Why?"
"I just want to get something."
Dean tossed him the car keys and headed inside with their food. When Sam joined him a few minutes later, he had the EMF detector so he could check out the room. He also had salt to put around the door and windows.
"What's up?" Dean asked, looking up from the pizza he was doling out.
Sam shrugged. "Nothing; just want to be safe."
"Your spidey sense not vibrating, is it?"
"No," Sam shook his head. "Grab me a beer."
While Sam readied the room, Dean got their dinner ready. He picked up a bag from the previous junk food run, expecting it to be empty.
"You bought this?" He held up the chess game and Sam paused for a moment to look at him.
"Yeah."
"You wanna play?"
"Okay."
A moment later, Sam settled at the table with his brother.
"You find anything with the EMF?"
"No."
"You wanna tell me the truth about why you brought it in?"
Sam shrugged, reaching for a slice of pizza. "Precaution."
"What's going on, man?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
Dean shrugged and opened the chess game. The expression on his brother's face told Sam to let it drop for now.
They played, ate pizza and finished off a six-pack. Well, Dean finished it off while Sam nursed his first drink. He had moved on to the Tequila he'd hidden in the trunk by the time Sam was done. He would have tried to cut him off, but Sam was hoping the alcohol would at least temporarily improve his brother's mood. It didn't happen and somewhere toward the end of the second game of chess, Sam realized Dean had stopped paying attention.
"What's going on, man?"
Dean looked at him, slightly bleary-eyed. "Nohin'."
"Come on, Dean. You haven't been yourself since we got to town. I know –"
"What do you know, Sammy?"
Sam hesitated, afraid he'd let Dean drink too much. He watched as his brother stood up and made his way unsteadily across the room to the window.
"Fucking snow," he muttered.
As he cleaned up the mess, Sam tried to remember any other time his brother had had this kind of reaction to snow. He couldn't think of any time they'd been trapped in the midst of a storm and started to wonder if that was luck or skill on Dean's part.
"Maybe you should sit down," Sam suggested.
"I'm fine."
"Dean –"
He turned from the window and glared at Sam angrily. "I said I'm fine, damnit!"
Dean tried to make his way to the door, but he fell over one of the duffle bags and hit his head on the window sill.
"Fuck!" he rubbed his forehead as Sam rushed forward to help him. His hands were on Dean's shoulders when his brother pushed him away. "I'm fine!"
"Let me look at it," Sam insisted, holding Dean's wrists and ignoring his brother's fierce look. "You're going to have a bruise. Probably a bump, too."
"I've had worse," Dean grumbled as he struggled to get up.
Sam pulled him up by his collar and helped him toward the bed. This time Dean didn't protest and Sam let him flop onto the bed.
"I think it's time for some shut-eye," Sam said and pulled off his brother's shoes.
"You don't know, Sammy. You don't know."
"What don't I know, Dean?" Sam asked as he struggled to pull the blanket up around his brother.
"You don't know," Dean turned onto his side and curled up. "Don't go out into the snow, Sammy."
"I'm not going anywhere, Dean." Sam sat on the edge of his own bed and leaned forward. His brother's eyes were closed.
"I'll take care of you, Sammy. I promise."
"I know you will, Dean."
"Stay out of the snow."
"Go to sleep, Dean."
Sam watched as his brother either fell asleep or passed out; he wasn't sure which. This was hardly the first time he'd had to put his drunk brother to bed, but it unnerved him more than the others. He struggled again to remember something in their past that involved snow, but he couldn't think of a single thing. They'd been in snow before, of course, but he didn't remember anything bad ever happening.
He finished putting things away, then got ready for bed. Even though he was asleep, Sam didn't feel comfortable leaving Dean alone long enough to even shower. He pulled out a book and settled under the blankets to read until he was tired.
ooOOOooo
"Sammy!"
Sam jerked awake. At first he wasn't sure he'd actually heard his name, but then he saw Dean struggling to free himself of the blanket.
"I'm here, Dean. What is it?"
"Sam!"
He jumped out of his own bed and sat on the edge of Dean's, holding his arms. "I'm right here."
Sam pulled the blanket away from his brother and spoke softly to him. It took another moment for Dean to calm and, when he did, he put his hand on the side of Sam's face.
"You're not cold."
Sam didn't understand what he meant. "I'm fine, Dean."
He looked around the room, still maintaining contact with his brother. "I…."
"What is it, Dean?"
"We're not….You didn't…." he looked at his brother.
"You were dreaming," Sam said. Normally, it was Dean reassuring him after a nightmare.
"You're okay?" Dean looked confused.
"I'm fine," Sam carefully examined his brother's forehead. "Does your head hurt?"
"No," Dean's hand was still on the side of Sam's face, but it slid to his shoulder. "You're really okay?"
"Dean, come on, man. You with me here?"
"Yeah," Dean looked around the room again and Sam saw the confusion melt from his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, dude."
Dean tried to pull away, but Sam wouldn't let him. "Talk to me."
"Like you said; it was a dream. I'm fine."
"What were you dreaming?"
"It's over, no big deal."
When Dean pulled away this time, Sam let him go. He watched as his brother carefully made his way to the bathroom. He was in there longer than Sam felt comfortable with and was about to knock on the door when Dean reappeared. He took a bottle of water from the small refrigerator and drank half of it before saying anything.
"I guess I drank quite a bit last night." He looked at the nearly empty bottle of tequila on the table. "Probably why I had the weird dream."
Sam looked at him uncertainly. "Maybe."
Dean drank some more water. "What time is it?"
"About seven."
"I think I'll try to get some more sleep," Dean said as he made his way back to bed. He sat on the edge as the room started to spin.
"You okay?" Sam was watching him closely.
"Still a little drunk, I think." Dean tried to sound nonchalant.
"You sure your head doesn't hurt?"
"No, it's fine." He lay back against the pillows.
"You need anything?"
"No. Thanks, Sam."
"Dean –" he paused when his brother closed his eyes. "Go to sleep. I'll see you in a few hours."
"Sam?"
"Yeah?"
Dean didn't open his eyes. "Don't go out, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, Dean."
ooOOOooo
Sam lay down, but he didn't sleep. He watched his brother, listening to the even sound of his breathing. He wondered what was really going on with him; Sam didn't believe drinking was the sole reason for his odd behavior.
When Dean woke up a couple of hours later, Sam was sitting at the table with his laptop and a cup of coffee. He'd wanted to get some breakfast, but was afraid of Dean's reaction if he woke up and found him gone. He'd eaten three granola bars and was still hungry.
He watched as Dean got out of bed and went into the bathroom without a word. When the shower turned off, Sam poured a cup of coffee for his brother and had it waiting for him when he came out of the bathroom. Dean dressed silently, trying to avoid Sam's concerned stare.
"Dean." His back to Sam, Dean's shoulders slumped.
"You know I'm going to ask you about last night. And this morning."
"Yeah."
"So?"
Dean sat down heavily on the bed and clasped his hands between his knees. He glanced at Sam helplessly, then turned away.
"Dean?"
"I lost you."
"What? Dean, I'm right here."
Dean shook his head. "You were four. We were staying in a motel somewhere in Montana during a storm and Dad had to go out for a little while. You had a fever and we'd run out of medicine. He was just going to the store and he told me to make sure you stayed in bed. You were sleeping and – and I just went to the bathroom. I'd left a comic book in there and I guess I got distracted. When I came out, you were gone."
Sam saw the far away look on his brother's face and moved closer to him.
"We'd been there for a few days. We couldn't move on because the weather was so bad. Dad probably shouldn't have even been out. I looked for you in the room first; sometimes you'd hide in the closet for some reason. You weren't there and I got scared. I knew if Dad got back and you weren't in bed, I'd be in trouble. But I was more scared about what would happen to you. I put my coat on and went outside to look for you. I don't know how long it took; it seemed like hours."
Dean's eyes had filled with tears and Sam wasn't sure what to do.
"I found you in the park across the street. You were sleeping in the sandbox, but it was full of snow. I got you back to the room and warmed up, but you wouldn't open your eyes. God, Sammy, I was so scared."
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered.
Dean shook his head. "I should have been watching you, but you were sleeping and –"
"And you were just a kid, too."
"Doesn't matter. It was my job –"
"Dean –"
"Don't, Sam. Please don't try to make this better."
"Stop torturing yourself, Dean. Stop blaming yourself for something that happened almost 20 years ago. You found me and I'm okay," Sam smiled through his own tears. "You've saved my ass a million times since then."
Dean looked at his brother. "You didn't even know you were outside. I got you back to the room and put you in a warm bath. I was afraid Dad would get back before I had you warmed up and back in bed, but he was gone a really long time. I started to get worried about him and you woke up and were hungry….Turns out Dad slid off the road because it was so icy and ended up having to walk back to the motel."
"Did you ever tell Dad what happened?"
"Yeah. I could never lie to him," Dean said. "But I let enough time pass so he wasn't too pissed."
Sam nodded, smiling.
"I really hate snow, man," Dean said with a sad look on his face.
"Yeah. How about when we leave here, we go somewhere warm? We can still take some time off and –"
"Watch girls in bikinis?"
Sam smiled. "Sure, Dean. If that's what you want."
"In the meantime, let's go get some breakfast and then maybe I'll kick your ass in a game of chess."
Sam followed his brother to the door. "In your dreams, dude."
Fin