I am in love with this story idea and this is why I want to make it a good story. Right now, I do not have a beta since I am relatively new to writing in this fandom - so if there are any volunteers, please do not hesitate to come forth!
I do appreciate a review since I know the story idea is pretty bold and I want this to turn out good. Anyone who likes the idea of toying with this, please let me know what you think and how it could be done better. I do not mind harsh words - this is actually what keeps me going and getting better! Thank you all very much in advance. And in case there is someone out there who actually likes this tale - I am looking for someone who could make a banner for this story as I want to publish it in other places as well. I have a ton of pics that are my own and would like to work them in.
Last but not least: I do not own anything and that is good 'cause I am not a nice person when it comes to proper treatment of fictional characters. WHUMP!
Dean certainly wasn't the book smart type. Like Sam was.
He had never read much literature or poetry. He had not once been to an opera and when he came across certain tv channels where people talking used more than three words in one sentence he didn't know, Dean just wouldn't bother.
But Dean could read people. He was really quick on the uptake when the motel clerk in a small town gave 'em the looks about two guys in one room. He realized when there was free piece of pie just lingering beyond the longing eyes of an early aged waitress in a cheap diner and he could tell fake fear from real terror.
And – better than anyone – Dean could read Sammy. And that was exactly the reason why Dean was stuck in Richfield/Utah right now. And from what he could tell, he might just be stuck there for quite some time.
It was just one of these days when he had mentioned – now for the umpteenth time – that „Awwww, Sammy, really. It's not even that bad anymore. Let's head out. Waddaya say...uhm...there is really cool stuff like just around the corner. We could be at Bryce Canyon for sunset. C'mon that shakes your romantic cords, don't it" when Sam had snapped.
Just like that.
„Really Dean? Cool stuff? Cool like Let's Pulverize A Fucking Ghost On A Fucking Ancient Bridge That Has Fucking Holes In It Through Which You Just Might Take A Fucking Plunge When You Tease Instead Of Watching Where He Goes? Cool like that Dean?"
Dean was just about to open his mouth when sasquatch made him realize that he hadn't let off enough steam quite yet. In fact, when Dean had raised his head in some sort of curiosity at his brothers intense cussing – quite unusal for Sammy – he realized that there was MUCH more to come. Sam had like – Dean was at loss for better words – kind of an aura around him. A strong field of burning anger that was so unlike Sam that Dean almost beamed with joy. Finally. His brother wasn't dead after all.
Only, Dean wasn't really sure he should tell Sam right this very minute how happy he was about this lively comeback of his – because said aura of unrepetent fury now seemed to be directed at the only other living being in the room.
And most unfortunately that was Dean.
Who was in great pain at the moment (not that he would tell) and who was still in dire need of a big guy dragging him to the bathroom if this was the place he needed to be. Dean, who really needed to be on good terms with his baby brother – at least for a few more days.
So, Dean was ready to drop a "Sorry" and more than willing to let the issue go until tomorrow when Sam made two quick steps towards the hospital bed Dean was currently kind of tied to.
He was still sort of glowing. Only, more intense now.
Dean reached for the alarm button and thought that this was pretty ridiculous. But then again – his brothers unruly mop of hair looked like raging flames around his head. His eyes shot daggers.
"Or cool like C'mon-Sam-the-devils-backbone-that's-like-a-fucking-homecoming-isn't-it?"
Sam was ready to explode. Dean could tell. His brothers hands were shaking and he knew it. That was probably why Sam raised them to his face and through his hair when he leaned really close to Dean. Sam drew a shaking breath and Dean could tell how hard it was for him to hold it together. He was watching intently now.
"I don't care how cool you think it was, Dean. It wasn't"
Aww, fuck. No tears, Sammy! Come on!
"It wasn't. 'Cause from where I was watching you came THIS close to spending the rest of your life in a wheelchair"
Great…he's actually bawling even though he is still mad as hell. That's like rain and sunshine at the same time.
"And the way I know you…I know that the minute a doctor had told you this, it would have been your sole purpose in life to get your hands on a gun to blow your brains out. And I just wont do that. I wont. You hear me?"
Fuck, how long did that surgery last? How much time did that freak have to toss shitty thoughts like that around in his oversized head?
"Mum is gone. Dad is god knows where. I lost Jessica and my life as it were. You're all I have left and I intend to keep it that way. Do you get this, Dean? I mean it!"
Sam was growling now and that didn't sit to well with Dean. Nothing did in fact right now and he felt as shaken as his brother looked.
"'Kay Sammy. Allright, we'll just…I just…let it get better. Okay?"
Sam just nodded, sat still for a moment with his hands over his face. Only the hitching breaths told Dean that it still wasn't save to come back with a light comment. Then his brother wiped his face with one determined brush of his hands befor he got up and bolted for the door.
"I'll get coffee"
Thanks again for reading and it would be great if you could leave a review!
Story outline is finished, updates will be every 3 days.