Summary: Tag for 4.04 Metamorphosis…After Sam's speech in the car, things go a little downhill. Dean reveals a few things and Sam gets some quality thinking time. Cause there was need for a little more Dean whumpage.
Rating: It's rated M only because of a little bit of language. Ratings systems scare me.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. Sadly.
Note: I know it's been a little while since this episode, but I finally got around to getting this down. As much as I love Sam, I was a little mad at him in this episode. This is what came out of that anger. Reviews are welcome! Keep in mind I haven't seen this episode in a little while. I don't have too many episode details in here, but just know this is going off of memory that's at least a year old. Here goes.
After pulling back onto the road, they drove in silence. Sam stared out the window, caught up in his own thoughts. Dean blinked hard a few times, clearing his head after everything that had happened. He was tired. First he found out his little brother was using demonic powers, then the bad turn with the hunt and Sam's speech just a few minutes ago. It was a lot to take in over a short amount of time. He shook his head once more.
"There's a motel up here. I'm pulling off."
"Fine."
No more conversation came from Sam's side of the car. Dean sighed. This was the way it was going to be then. Sam was the victim. Yes, Dean realized had said terrible things to him. But it didn't make the sense of betrayal he felt any less.
The Stonybrook Motel sounded as good as any. He pulled up and got out of the car without a word, returning five minutes later with a key.
"We're in room 12. It's just over there. Grab a bag."
Sam went to the trunk to take his bag without a word. Dean leaned against the car and rested his eyes. Sam had reason to feel the way he felt. But his tantrum was giving Dean a headache.
"You okay?"
When he opened his eyes, Sam was standing a foot away from him. It was the first concern his little brother had shown since he'd gotten out of the closet and killed the rugaru. Dean realized he'd been pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm fine Sam. I just wanna get inside."
Sam gave him a piercing look, like he was trying to see if Dean was telling the truth, but didn't push the point further. The brothers got inside and put their bags down. Sam looked at the eldest Winchester as he fell back on the bed. He was clearly still upset about the him-having-powers-and-working-with-Ruby thing. He'd gotten what he needed to out of his system in the car, but he wanted to make Dean understand. Now was as good a time as any.
"Look Dean, I know you aren't happy about what I've been doing."
Dean sighed yet again and put a hand over his eyes. There was no protest, which looking back Sam should have taken as a bad sign, but instead took as an opportunity to continue.
"I want things to be okay between us. But I can only say what I've said before. You were gone and I was here. It wasn't easy-"
Dean was on his feet so fast he wobbled from the force with which he'd risen.
"That's your excuse? It was hard. Are you fucking kidding me?"
The outburst caught Sam by surprise so much so that he took a step back. Before he could respond, Dean took an unsteady step forward and continued.
"I went to hell for you! I suffered for 40 years!"
Sam's eyes widened. "Wait, what? It was only 4 months!" He winced at his choice of words. Only 4 months in hell? As if that made it better?
A humorless laugh escaped Dean's lips. "Did you ever think time might run a little different down there? Trust me Sam. It was 40 years. Forty years of torture and suffering. You were here for 4 months. You say it was hard? What do you think Hell was like? Did you think it was a fucking walk in the park for me? All puppy dogs and balloon animals and feather pillows? While you were up here 'suffering' with your demon bitch and your super powers, leaving my dying wish in the dust, I was hanging from hooks getting my insides pulled out my bellybutton by a demon! Don't talk to me about how 'hard' it was Sam. You have no fucking idea."
Sam stood speechless, allowing Dean to continue.
"You promised me! You promised me you wouldn't go down this road. My dying wish Sam! And you couldn't grant me that? After everything I did for you. Everything I've given for you, including my fucking soul-"
"I didn't ask-" Sam whispered, as if justifying his own admittedly weak argument to himself.
"No, you didn't. But-But I raised you. What did you expect...me to do? I- I had to- I had to do something."
Dean was blinking hard again and looking considerably paler. Sam had thought Dean was just worked up but now he could tell something was wrong. "Why don't you sit down? You don't look so good…"
"I- I- "
Sam saw it coming and was already halfway to Dean when he passed out. He caught his brother under his arms and laid him back on the bed.
"Damn, Dean. You never make things easy, do you?"
Sam arranged his brother more comfortably on before checking his eyes. Definitely a concussion. How had he missed it before? All the things he'd been attributing to fatigue were, in actuality, symptoms of a concussion. Dean had been blinking hard in the car…clearing double vision not fighting to stay awake. When he'd been leaning against the car, it had been because he couldn't balance. He clearly had the headache that was bound to follow a concussion, thus the nose-pinching. On the bed when he'd been covering his eyes, it was because the light was hurting him. And when he'd shot up so quickly he'd wobbled because he was disoriented not because he gotten up quickly.
Damn. Had he really been so caught up in his own problems that he had completely missed how hurt Dean was? Why had he not thought to check for a concussion before Dean had gotten behind the wheel. Instead he was focused on himself, which, in comparison to Dean's time in Hell, was a day at Disneyworld. Sitting by the bed to wait for his brother to wake up, all he could do was contemplate what Dean had revealed in his moment of weakness.
Forty years. FORTY YEARS? He let his head fall down into his hands. Dean was right. Sam had been wallowing in self pity, trying to get himself killed, not thinking about what his brother sacrificed for him…what he was going through for him. Dean didn't deserve to go through that. Sam didn't deserve to have someone go through that for him. Not after everything he'd done. What had he been thinking? Things would be different now. He would change. He knew he didn't deserve what Dean had done for him. But he could try to make himself into a person who might.
With that thought, a groan came from the bed. Sam's head shot up to see Dean blinking awake, trying to sit up before raising a hand to his head and laying back down.
"Ow."
Sam was instantly hovering above him. "Take it easy man. You have a concussion."
"No kidding."
Sam prodded Dean as if he hadn't said anything. Satisfied that there were only a few bruises from the fall to the table, he sat down again. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got thrown into a table by a rugaru." He paused, taking in his surroundings. "How did we get here?"
"You don't remember?"
"I remember driving - terrible idea by the way - and our…discussion….in the car and that's about it. Please tell me I didn't wreck my baby-"
Dean was trying to sit up again, this time more slowly.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, your baby is fine." Sam placed a hand on Dean's chest, keeping him on the bed. "We got here before you got bad. Lay back down. Why the hell didn't you tell me you had a concussion?"
Dean shrugged. "I thought I was just tired. It's been a trying few days if you haven't noticed."
Sam didn't miss the sarcasm dripping from the statement. It was his turn to sigh.
"Look Dean, I'm really sorry about all this. I know I've been really focused on me lately, but that's behind me now. I'm ready to focus on being a team again."
Dean was clearly taken aback by this. "Wow. You must have done some serious soul searching while I was out."
"You really don't remember anything that happened after our talk?"
"No," Dean narrowed his eyes. "Why? What did I do?"
Sam looked at his brother for a minute, contemplating whether to tell him what he'd said. He quickly decided against it. That was something Dean needed to tell him in his own time, not because of a concussion. He'd keep it to himself until Dean was ready to share.
"Nothing. I was just worried. We should get you to a clinic."
"Why? I've had concussions before."
"My big brother was torn to shreds before my eyes, went to hell, and just came back. Humor me."
Dean sighed heavily in protest, but didn't object. As they got in the car, Dean looked over at his little brother with the same piercing stare Sam had used on him early that night, trying to figure out why the man was acting so differently. Unfortunately, the concussion was still rearing its head. It'd have to wait til later.
"Thanks…you know…for worrying."
"Wow, you really do have a concussion, don't you?" Sam said with a smirk. Dean reached over and punched his shoulder.
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
And with that, the olive branch was offered and accepted…at least for the time being.
So there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. Please comment!