This is just a bit of dialogue that ran thru my head after LDC. I have no idea why I have this need to finish things differently… it's a curse.
Busy Signals
Dean sighed, leaning his forearms on his thighs, his eyes searching the shadows in the room. "I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anyone to, ya know? The only person that can get me out of this is me."
"And me."
He tilted his head, a slight grin curving the corner of his mouth. He appreciated the sincerity in his brother's eyes, and he swallowed hard. "And me?"
"What?"
"Deep revelation, having a real moment and that's what you come back with? 'And me'?"
"You want a poem?"
Dean shook his head, silently thanking his brother for playing along, allowing the emotional moment to pass. "Moment's gone." He quickly grabbed the remote and puched a button, bringing the small color television to life, effectively breaking the charged silence that had fallen over the room. "Unbelievable," he muttered, allowing a grin to pull at his lips. Reaching to his left, he pulled two beers from the cardboard six pack and held them out, waiting for Sam to take one before twisting off the cap and taking a deep swallow of the cool liquid.
He knew his brother was watching him without looking and he allowed it for a few moments as he kept his eyes carefully trained on the old black and white movie on the screen.
"Stop it Sam."
"What?"
"Looking at me like that."
"I'm not looking at you like anything."
"You're seriously giving me the creeps, dude."
"Paranoid much, Dean?"
"Whatever."
The silence returned, only the low background music of the movie filling the air.
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"What was it like?"
Dean frowned and turned slightly to face his brother "What was what like?"
"Talking to Dad. Hearing his voice? I mean, I know it wasn't really him, but…"
Dean's eyes dropped to a spot on the carpet as he let his arm drop back to his thigh, the half empty bottle of beer dangling loosely between his fingers. "I don't know. It was…. I mean I just…"
Sam tilted forward, trying to catch his brother's eyes, but the older man seemed to be lost in his thoughts. "Dean?"
"I miss him."
Sam almost didn't hear the soft reply. His brother's voice was normally pitched pretty low, but it was now nothing more than a soft rumble, filled with what Sam recognized as longing and regret. "Yeah."
"I just wish…"
"What?"
Dean sighed and rubbed his free hand over his face, wincing as his finger brushed the cut across his brow. "I just wish I knew what to do, Sammy." He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "I wish I knew how everything got so twisted up. I wish I knew how to… how I could save me and…"
"And me?"
Dean snorted a laugh and frowned at his brother. "Say that again and I'm gonna have it tattooed on your ass."
"Like I'd ever let you anywhere near my ass, perv."
"Sounds like a challenge."
Sam took another swallow of beer, glad he could direct his brother away from the deep emotion that seemed to be weighing him down once again. It was good to know that sometimes, he could still give Dean what he really needed – even if he didn't always get through the first time. "Stay away from my ass, Dean."
The television reflected in Dean's eyes as he grinned at his brother, a bit of Sam's normal, smartass brother shining in the green depths. "Paranoid much, Sammy?"
The End.
