As Sam pulled into the empty parking lot and turned the engine off, he heard voices. Immediately, he looked around, but didn't see anyone. Or anything. Just the few fluorescent lights shining in the darkness of the night, illuminating the whole area of the motel where the two hunters were staying for the night. Sam decided it was probably just his imagination, being wild as always, and so he just sat for a while, his hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes closed. Focusing on keeping his breath steady, he lowered his hands and put them in his lap. As soon as he did that, his mind started to wander more than intended and he began thinking about everything that made his heart ache, from the smallest of things to the stuff he wanted to forget about forever.
That wasn't calming at all. So Sam rather got out of the Impala, slammed the door and leaned against the car. Once again, he heard something. Voices. He tried to focus on them, understand what they're saying, but once he did that, they were gone. He shook his head. He didn't want this, any of it. Nothing of this life they were living.
But in the gloomy darkness more and more thoughts started to attack his mind and Sam knew that he would rather face anything else than his mind. Realizing this, he took the take-away he bought earlier from the car, locked it and made his way into their room.
A few steps later, he emerged into the room. Only one little lamp was shining on the table, next to a computer on which his brother Dean was completely absorbed in and didn't even notice Sam got back until the door shut with a louder bang than usual. Dean didn't even flinch at that and a few seconds later, he was the first one who spoke.
„Did you bring the pie?" he asked. He still haven't looked up from his computer.
„What do you think?" was the answer from Sam, who put the take-away on the table. „Cranberry one this time."
„Aah, beautiful," Dean almost whispered as he took the first bite. He moaned and gave a thumbs up to Sam, who sat down across the table.
„What are you looking up?" Sam asked, already eating some burger he picked up. At that moment, he was mad he didn't buy two pies. Although Dean would probably eat that one too, so he just continued eating his burger.
„Well, „ Dean started with a full mouth. Sam was on the verge of reminding him it's rude to talk with a full mouth. „Apparently, hikers in some part of Atlanta are never seen again when they go hiking in the forests. However, one guy got back, with deep wounding though. He didn't survive but from the photos I've just seen and from what he described, I guess I know what is lurking in those woods." he raised his eyebrows.
Sam had to think deply for a while. Then it struck him. It has been so long.
„You think it's a…" he swallowed. „Wendigo?"
„In the spotlight." Dean answered with a huge grin on his face. „So long, right?" he said, taking another bite of the pie. He seemed to really love pies in general.
„I was just thinking the same." said Sam and couldn't help but smile a little. The wendigo was one of the first creatures they hunted together. When Sam recalled this, he suddenly felt a bit doleful. He didn't even know why. But lately, everything seemed to make him miserable. And upset. Even the smallest things, like not being able to find a parking spot or putting too much sugar in his coffee, but he thought it was just because of the overall stress. Now he started to get second thoughts.
Dean however noticed a slight change in Sams' behaviour, for when he asked what Sam thought of it, he got just a slight nod and a distant stare from Sams' eyes. He was quiet for a while until he ate the rest of the pie and decided to speak.
„Sam?" at this, he looked up. There was something different about his eyes.
„Sam, you okay?" he asked and his voice sounded so concerning and his eyebrows close together like he was thinking hard, his eyes narrowed a bit. Though it probably didn't look like it, he was scared. Scared that Sam might lash out or that he might start crying but mostly, he just didn't want him to be upset over anything, although he still lacked at showing it. He always lacked at showing feelings and always kept everything inside him for too long. Sam was still his little brother and he didn't want him to be sad or angry or whatever he was. Sammy didn't deserve it. At all.
„Sammy," he said and pushed the computer aside. „Talk to me."
When he didn't answer, Dean added, almost in a whisper, „please."
Sam looked up at him. „To be honest, I… I don't know." he answered and ran his fingers through his hair. „I'm just… too emotional lately, so I guess it's nothing."
The problem was, Dean was just too emotional as Sam was. And he had enough.
„Sam, whatever is your problem, just tell me and don't act all secretive about everything." he exclaimed.
Sam looked at him. „I'm not secretive about anything, what are you talking about, Dean?"
Dean rolled his eyes. „Well then, what are you mad about?"
Sam didn't believe he actually said that. Did he look mad? As far as he was concerned, his mood was a) his thing, b) messed up but at least he could tell he wasn't mad and c) he just had enough. Just as Dean had.
He looked him straight in the eyes, waiting. „I'm not mad," he said at last, „I'm hurt." And he knew that would shut Dean up for a few moments. „And there's a difference." And finally, he let all his frustration and anger and sadness, that was troubling him for a longer time, out.
„I'm hurt, Dean." at this point he wasn't sure whether it was dissapointment or just plain sadness propeling him, but he needed to vent it somewhere. „Maybe I'm sad or mad or afraid but you know, most of all, I'm hurt. And tired. Tired of everything. I'm tired of staying at motels, ordering crappy food everyday, trying to make everything look so simple. But I could ignore all of this. What really gets me, is seeing dead bodies on everyday basis, using fake names. The looks on peoples' faces looking at us like we're from another planet, having to clean knives from blood of so many creatures. The creatures in general. I mean, I haven't seen a wendigo for months but I'm still so scared of it and just thinking about hunting it down and killing it gives me creeps. I knew we would never have a normal life with the way we were raised but I didn't want this either. Who would want all of this?" he shook his head and when he did that, a tear escaped his eye, running along his cheek. „All because of you."
Dean couldn't believed what he just heard. And that final accusation was all he needed.
„Because of me?" his voice cracked. „So you're saying it's my fault that you now live like this?" he asked, the room already filled with pure anger.
„Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying." Sam just didn't know how and when to stop and it seemed he only made it worse. „I don't completely recall, Dean, but I guess it was my older brother, pretending to be some kind of a hero as always, who broke into mine and Jessica's house, thinking how we were just gonna find dad and things would get to normal. But guess what, dad is dead and so is Jessica and what you said about saving people probably didn't apply on our loved ones!" he shouted and the last words resonated across the dimly lit motel room.
Dean now understood what it felt like to be hurt and tired. He probably knew all along but didn't completely realized it.
„Look, Sam," he started, feeling his eyes watering, „you know I could say like thousands of things right now and they wouldn't be nice at all. But I don't want to argue with you. I've had enough arguing for a lifetime, believe me. And you're my brother so whatever you're pissed off or sad about, you tell me and I will beat the living crap out of whatever the hell that is."
Dean stopped talking to look at his brother whose eyes were welled up with tears. It didn't happen very often that both of them were crying and Sam, looking saddened but grateful, which he was, stood up at which Dean did the same and he embraced him in a brotherly hug that meant more things to both of them than they could ever say out loud.
They didn't know how long they stood there. It may have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes but it felt like not even thirty hours could make up for all the unsaid words and undone things. And that was what both of them realized. You can be as broken as you want to be, as long as you have someone who can make the pain a bit more bearable.