Disclaimer-Eric Kripke and the WB/CW own the characters. Flaming Lips own the Lyrics to Mr. Ambulance Driver. Prose/Situations are mine. Some parts of the ep "Dead in the Water" are mentioned/alluded to in this part.
Kyrie en Excelsior
"We can't trade places.
Our lives are strangely our own." The Flaming Lips.
Sam steals a few glances at his brother, who is sleeping as he drives. So far, they haven't had any luck finding their father. They think, (Rather, Sam thinks. Dean is fairly tight-lipped about anything that involves their father)that there would be some type of clues after the Lady in White case.
But all they receive from John, and indirectly at that, are co-ordinates. Once they got the Wendigo out of the way, they just go on. Without a clue, without a plan.
Sam's found a potential job in Wisconsin, mysterious drownings. He shows Dean the paper, who only nods and agrees to go only after arguing with Sam about looking for their father. Sam over-rides him and Dean finally agrees to go. So there they are, on their way to another hunt.
Although overjoyed at having his brother back, Sam can't help but to feel uneasy. Although he knows full well it is irrational to expect Dean to be the same swaggering older brother he's shared eighteen years of his life with, part of him is expecting it to be so. And despite being truthful with himself, Sam knows deep down that no matter how much he tells himself Dean things aren't going to change.
This Dean is a complex mystery that he isn't sure he will ever come close to truly unravelling. He tries to talk to his brother, all the hours they spend travelling between jobs are providing him with the opportunity to do so. But Dean keeps shooting him down by either remaining silent or by replying, "Not now Sam."
It's driving him crazy, but he knows better than to push. One thing he knows about Dean is that when he gets cornered, he is exactly like a wild animal and will lash out. With not so pretty consequences.
He knows that the attacks aren't going to be the physical kind. Although they have sparred and occasionally have slapped each other across the head as they grew up, they never got into physical confrontations that would leave lasting damage.
No. The attacks are going to be of the psychological kind. Dean's always been good at them. Not because he is polished practitioner of them. But because he is goes for maximum effect with the fewest shots. Sam sincerely hopes that they aren't turned on him. Sure, Dean may not mean them in the heat of the moment, but it's not going to stop them from coming. Personal ones are his speciality. But now that he's been with the Church, they could be worse than that.
They could be the religious kind. Sam shudders at that possibility. He has to wonder if his brother will do something like read the bible he carries in his pocket aloud to him. Or worse, pray for his soul. He doesn't know why, despite the faith that John's somehow instilled in them, the idea of someone doing something so personal sets him off.
So he remains quiet for the time being and looks at his brother, who still is asleep, a heavy wooden rosary clutched tight in his hand as he does. He stares at it for a few moments before turning his attention back. He's not sure if he likes his brother's new talisman.
He stops thinking about it when he finally notices a not too shabby motel by the side of the road.
Sleep is more important at that moment. He stifles a sigh and pulls into the overgrown parking lot. At least he would get some kind of sleep before Dean's nightmares put a crimp into those plans.
OO
"...Misere nostri, Domine miseree nostri, Fiat misericordia tua, Domine super nos, quemadmodum speravimus in te. In te, Domine, speravi: non confundar in aeternum..."1
Sam's not sure when the prayer creeps into his brain. All he knows is that by the end of it, he's wide awake and unravelling the Latin that his brother is quietly whispering, the beads of his rosary clicking as he slides one after the other through his fingers. He sits up and looks at the clock. At least he's got six hours under his belt. He rubs his face and look at his brother, who is sitting on the edge of the other motel bed, his elbows resting on his knees as he finishes the prayer.
He notices that Sam is watching, yet he doesn't speak. He simply gets up and goes to the bathroom.
Sam scowls at the wall and covers his face with the scratchy pillow. He understands now why Atheism is so seductive. Latin is fine and dandy during an exorcism. Waking up to it, now that is a completely different matter.
He tries to go back to sleep, but fails dismally. Especially when the water starts running and the pipes start making noises that make him wonder if there's some kind of imp or minor demon in them. He scowls and finally gets out of bed. Some days he simply can't win.
He knows that once Dean gets out of the shower, he will probably spend another hour praying. For what? He would dearly love to know. But that is another one of the secrets that his older brother isn't spilling. He assumes it is for the woman that burned up in the Church.
He doesn't know what else it could be. Dean's never killed a human being. He's only killed in self-defence and those have been monsters. He knows also that Dean would go to confession for all the petty sins that they committed for the greater good. Him? Once in a while. And that was only if their father forced him to do it. Not Dean. He would go any chance he got.
Especially after he turned ten...
Sam sits up and frowns at that memory. Something did happen at that time that changed Dean in some way that neither he or his father saw. But how?
He groans and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. He really isn't in the mood for mystery upon mystery piled up on him. Not without some coffee and breakfast, at least.
He gets dressed and walks over to the convenience store and buys two cups of coffee and a couple of stale doughnuts. Not the best breakfast, but he knows that Dean doesn't care. He only eats because Sam puts food in front of him. Sam knows he's going to have to fix that soon, but he keeps putting it off. He wants to give his brother time to get himself together, but he's also getting impatient. Months have passed and there have been glimmers of the old Dean...but very few.
He pushes his not so pleasant thoughts out of his mind and takes a bite out of the doughnut that is quickly followed by coffee that is more milk than actual coffee. He never did develop a taste for coffee like the rest of his family. But in the morning he could tolerate it somewhat.
He walks back to the motel room and puts the food and coffee on the table for Dean to grab once he's done with the shower. He rummages around in his bag and pulls out a battered paperback, one of the few reminders of his one year in community college. He looks at the title and decides it is what he wants to read before he sits on the ubiquitous bench that every roadside motel seems to have.
He finishes the doughnut in a couple of bites and slowly sips the coffee, as he slowly savours the book, the scribbles and highlights in the text reminding him of that brief time in his life. He liked it, on some level, but always felt out of place. Like he was some kind of freak that everyone would eventually figure out if they looked hard enough. The coursework was no problem. His classmates on the other hand...
Sam closes the book and stares out at the highway. He's still not sure if he should thank his father for pulling him out of school to follow another trail or to resent him. Sometimes, when there's too much blood and the ache of missing Dean gets unbearable, he wants to hate his father. But when they have some quiet times in a bar, a beer in front of them each and his father's voice rolling over him like smooth whiskey, he forgives him.
Maybe when things aren't so raw between them, he's going to ask Dean if that's how it feels when he's not with them. Does he get lonely? Or was he simply relieved to not be there with them? Among the blood and pain and uncertainty and the knowledge that death was always waiting behind a closed door? Maybe depending on the answer, he can understand his brother better.
Sam taps his fingers on the cover of the book and looks at his watch. He's been sitting out there for two hours, which really doesn't feel like a long time. He's still debating with himself whether he should go in and see if Dean is ready to go when the door opens and his brother steps out. Dressed in Sam's oldest pair of jeans, t-shirt, hoodie and jacket.
Dean rolled up the sleeves and tugged at the waistband of the jeans before sending a scowl at his younger brother."Don't even dream of breathing whatever it is that you're thinking about. We haven't done laundry in a while and this was all I could find."
Sam only holds up his hands in surrender. It's hellishly better than having him wear his vestments all the time, that's for sure. Besides, it would take the heat off them as they worked, since Sam's positive the Church is going to send someone after Dean. The Church, he assumes, doesn't tend to look too kindly on having demon possessions on holy ground. So far, luck has been with them. As far as he knows, no one's tailing them and Dean's got enough foresight to remove the collar. It's not until they get a breather outside of Colorado that Dean finally and lays the vestments to rest, since Sam's able to go and get a small wardrobe together from the local thrift shop. But Sam knows there's never such a thing as too much precaution, so he always keeps an eye out when Dean is either too preoccupied or too unwilling to do it for his own self.
"Ready to go?" Dean asks as he hoists his own and Sam's bag over his shoulder.
Sam nods and gets up. He's still not used to being the leader. It's not a feeling he's sure he's never going to be comfortable with. Sure, he's bitched about having to follow commands when he was a snot-nosed rebelling teenager. Which kid hasn't? But now that he's the one at the top of the chain of command now that their father is gone, he hates it and wishes for Dean to get better enough to assume the role.
He just hopes that its sooner rather than later.
OO
He is the one that stays awake when they stay in Manitoc. He doesn't stay in the motel room with Dean, who's finally giving into sleep. Rather, he stays outside on the bench, paperback novel in his big hands and his eyes staring out in the dark night.
He's heard what Dean says to Lucas and he doesn't know what to think about that. In a way, he's touched. In another way, he's upset because it reinforces how far apart him and Dean really are. He wants to talk to Dean about it, but he doesn't have the words to start even hinting at it. Besides, he figures that Dean would just throw up a wall and stop any of his attempts before they even started.
He tries to bury himself into the case and almost succeeds, since there's quite a bit of digging to go through and Dean is sure that Lucas is the key somehow. Which proves to be correct after visiting Mrs. Sweeny, saving Lucas' mother and digging up the bicycle. The sheriff admits what he and Bill Carlton have done to Peter Swinney, but Lucas' been lured to the water where Peter wants to play.
They don't think about it. They jump into the water to save him from Peter's spirit. They ignore Andrea's screams and her father jumping in after them to try and bargain with Peter. They just want to find Lucas and keep him from having a fate like his father's and the others.
He's a strong swimmer, but not sleeping is taking its tool on his body. Sam's tired and he's barely treading water. Dean shouts something at him that he doesn't catch, but he still nods and goes under the water to try and find Lucas. He doesn't find anything in the murky waters and surfaces. Or tries to. Suddenly, the surface is too far and his limbs feel cold and cramped. His eyes widen and he tries to swim up again, but his efforts are just too feeble. He tries again, but his body refuses to co-operate.
He thinks that it's probably the worst way to go, drowning in some lake right after the job was done. He just hopes that Dean won't break after its all over.
Sam's just about to give up and sink when he feels an arm wrap itself roughly around his chest and haul his water-logged body up. He sputters and coughs a bit when he's roughly dragged up to the shore and a hard thump makes him look tiredly at Dean, who looks as if he has seen his own death in the face.
He only raises an eyebrow before he closes his eyes. He's too tired for anything else.
00
Sam doesn't blame Dean for wanting to leave Manitoc as quickly as possible. Two funerals is not the way that he pictured this job ending. Not by a long shot.
He doesn't know what happened between his brother and Andrea when he was out. If anything, Dean has become more distant. He only tells Sam that he'll take over the driving so that Sam can sleep. No other words are exchanged between them as the road stretches on.
Sam only watches the world pass through his window and wonders if that is what the rest of his life is going to be like. An endless stretch of road and a broken man silently dying beside him.
He wants to tell himself that he's simply being overly dramatic. It has been a long day and it wasn't exactly a pleasant one either. That's all that is going on.
Things will change at the next town.
They have to.
Ende.
1 Te Deum, Catholic prayer- Translations are: "Have mercy on us, Have mercy on us, let thy mercy be upon us oh lord, for we have hoped in thee. O Lord in thee I have put my trust; let me never be put to shame."