A/N: I wrote this back when I was watching Season 1, so there's a bit of iffy-ness here and there. I tried to catch majority of it through my re-read (especially since I'm caught up to Season 6). So please enjoy!
PS. There's no time frame for when this takes place…obviously before Season 2…I believe? It's also unbeta'd. 3
PPS. Just realized lyrics are semi-ironic. And the more reviews the more chance that there will be a porny sequel!
Now it's the Devil I love
And that's as funny as real love.
~Neko Case; Hold on, Hold on.
Sam can't remember a time where the car has held as much silent tension as now, all he can hear is Dean's heavy breathing as he drives the Impala down an empty back road. Sam should say something, he knows, but his voice is locked somewhere deep in him. So, instead, he holds his breath and sends up a silent prayer to God, who Sam can't even put his whole faith within.
Sam can't go through losing another person, Mom…Jessica, and now maybe even Dean. Maybe he should open his mouth and let all his thoughts loose, but he just can't. Dean looks so…detached. Not the brother he had grown up with, hunted with, the brother he had been comforted and saved by, this Dean is one he has never met before, only caught a glimpse of as he left for Standford…
"Sam." It's a hoarse sound that comes from Dean's (not Dean's?) throat; Sam mashes his lips together and waits for the familiar stranger to speak to him again. "Sammy…" He rasps again. Sam lets his eyes travel to this man's face. This man has hooded and hard eyes, focused forward, searching an invisible source that Sam can't recognize, his stubble is beginning to grow out, taking away from his usual youthful appearance. The muscles in his jaw are working, perhaps trying to form words, Sam can't read his mind. Sam never can with Dean.
"Yes?" Sam finally manages to get his dry mouth to muster up a word. Dean's eyes flick from the road to Sam's face, widening before they go back, like he didn't expect Sam to respond.
"…I don't know if I should say I'm sorry…" The words are thick and fill the car, and for a moment Sam can feel the tears fill his eyes. "Or if I should kick your ass." Dean isn't joking, but Sam wants to laugh, Sam wants to somehow make everything that has happened in the past twenty four hours disappear with just a noise.
So Dean waits for the response that Sam doesn't have, may never have in his lifetime. So Sam improvises.
"Pull over."
"What?"
"Pull over." He repeats himself, he can feel Dean's eyes on him, searching for a sign, but he doesn't look back at Dean, he knows if he does he'll break.
"…Okay." So the Impala crunches to a stop and the car finally becomes silent. Those searching eyes are still on him, and for a moment Sam wants to smile, the next moment he is angry at himself.
But isn't this what you wanted? A voice taunts in the back of his head.
But not like this. "Dean." Sam feels his fingers curl and uncurl, a bit of a nervous habit he had picked up long ago. "I'm sorry."
He can feel the tension burning off Dean's skin; it fills the car with a faint heat Sam knows will spark with one wrong word. "You're sorry?" The words are bitter and broken off, like Dean is holding himself back. "I'm sorry I didn't leave you back there."
The words slam into Sam and leave him literally breathless. "Dean." His voice breaks on his brother's name as his throat closes up.
He couldn't be serious, could he?
"What? You think sacrificing yourself is noble? That it's something I'd forgive you for." It's not a question, Dean is shouting now and filling Sam with too many emotions. At first he is shocked, then angry, and deep down…Sam is elated. He wants Dean to care, to obsess over him, he always wanted that. "Fat chance, Sammy!"
Sam begins to scream, suddenly breaking free of his stupor, he doesn't know if he's crying or not, he's too scared to realize what's going on. "Like you would leave me!" Sam can hear himself spewing the words "Am I right, Dean?" He knows he is right by the look that crosses Dean's face, and the elation he felt before swells into a sweet satisfaction.
"You don't know me…" Dean's voice hollows out. "You weren't there- " but Sam is already cutting him off.
"When Dad used you? I was there Dean, he used me too. That's why I had to get the hell away!" Sam is starting to go hoarse, but he's afraid if he stops shouting he'll lose his nerve. "I do know you though Dean, I know that deep down you're scared that you'll always be alone, and that scares me too." Sam is crying now, he's voice is high and tight and he can't believe he's actually saying those words.
"Don't talk like that, Sam, you're using me too." Dean splutters "You and you're little crusade for Jessica!"
Dean isn't lying, but Sam can't bring himself to say he's right, so instead he lets loose all the feelings he's had pent up for so many years. Feelings he believed were lost when he left Dean.
"You don't know what it's like to really to lose someone you love." Dean stiffens at those words, thinking of Sam and Jessica, probably.
The car falls silent, and both of them are breathing heavily, and Sam looks everywhere but at Dean.
Then Sam hears a small hiccupping sound, he turns to see tears spilling down Dean's face, but it still doesn't hit him until Dean starts muttering. "I lost you…" The words are a mournful gasping sound. Sam freezes, forgetting how to breathe. "I just got you back too, and you go and almost kill yourself." Dean presses his hands to his face, small whimpers slipping past the gaps in his fingers. "What the hell, Sammy?" Sam can almost hear the ghost of a laugh in those words.
"Dean…" Sam wants to reach out and take Dean into his arms, but now he's scared that he'll mess up and somehow break Dean even more. So many words want to come up: I love you, it's okay, I'm so sorry… but before he can even say another word Dean is babbling again, heads still cradling his head.
"I can't lose you, it's too much Sammy...a life without you" Sam's heart thuds painfully and his ears ring, he doesn't even know what to say or feel anymore, but apparently Dean does. "…I love you…" Dean finally utters.
Dean is in Sam's arms now, tangled and shuddering, grabbing and pressing at every inch of flesh that he can find. Sam doesn't object, huddling his brother closer and cradling his head. How long had Sam wanted to hear those words? How long had Sam lied and played himself in the idea that he didn't feel anything…something towards his brother? Too long. It had been too long. So the words spill from Sam's lips into Dean's hair, rushed "Oh, Dean"'s and "so much…I love you so much"'s and when Dean responds "Thank God I have you…" Sam couldn't agree more.