Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean&Sam (m/m or gen)
Rating: PG safe (for the f-word)
Genre: Shortfic/One-Shot
Warnings: none, not even blatant slash
Disclaimer: If I'd own anything you'd know about it.
Comment: Can be read as Wincest or simple Gen, whatever catches your fancy. Written pretty long ago, pre-Season 6Sam'sasoullessbastardyaddayadda, when even Season 5 was still on it's long way where I live.
Also why does FF hate me (and especially my formatting) so ?
Don't think of me
Lisas smile was warm, just like something home should look like. That and the little boy on her hand when the door opened in the evening to welcome a retired hero. Dean would get messily rid of his shoes, give her a fleeting kiss when they were in the house and sit down at the kitchen table when supper was already done, Sam knew that by heart after just 3 days.
All the scenes Sam always imagined Dean deserved but might never experience. The scenes he had in mind when he told his brother to go back to Lisa and have a family. The scenes he pictured when he had all the time till the end of the world in the pit. The scenes he hoped and yet feared to find when he searched for the right name plate. The scenes he indeed found when he finally saw Dean through the windows of his idyllic suburban house.
There was only one thing Sam could hope for; that Dean did not think of him anymore. Okay, so maybe a sad recall of his dead brother here and there would be nice but Sam remembered his own time when he thought Dean lost forever. And it had fucking broke him.
The look Bobby gave him could just be described as pure sympathy.
"You know I won't do anything you don't want but don't you think it would be better to let Dean know you're not…you know, rotting away in hell or something ?"
A dry heaving laugh escaped Sam. "So he can come over and try to salt and burn or shoot me ? Or maybe exorcise me ?"
There was nothing left to say. Of course Dean would at least try to do something like that. Even Bobby wasn't sure in the beginning what it was that he had in front of him. Everyone knew how Sam, one of the youngest, most skillful and yet most unfortunate hunters had dropped miles down to the pit. And this was exactly where he was bound to be right now. Either that or with Lucifer at his side. One or the other, his presence was not good news and Sam knew it. If they were aware he was back half of the hunters network would be after him. It was a wonder that Bobby had taken him in when Sam had knocked at his door and he was thankful.
All he could hear when he came down the stairs was a hushed goodbye and the unmistakable sound of a receiver clicking down on a telephone. Bobbys uneasy face confirmed every doubt Sam could have had. He decided to sit down at the table first and give him a moment while the older hunter made himself busy with his documents.
"What have you done ?"
Bobby looked down at the papers. "I called Dean."
Sams mouth went dry instantly, leaving just a stale raspy feeling inside.
"He wants to see you. I think he believed me that you are…you."
"The fuck ! But I don't want to see him."
Now that was a lie, Sam knew it and Bobby knew it. But even though Sam had told him to try this time and get a new life it still had been up to Dean to make that decision. And he had decided to start over with his new family. The older hunters gaze rested heavy on Sam.
"He won't come. You shall when you're ready. Said he'd suspect you to react like that. Didn't even bother to tell me his address like he knew you've been there already."
It had been inevitable, a mere question of when rather than if. But not even Sam would have thought it would be so soon. Two days he withstand before he packed his spare belongings that were left at Bobbys house and borrowed a car from the yard. The drive seemed longer than it had a few days ago when he came from Dean.
Sam didn't know what to think or to feel. He had no right to be angry despite the welling feeling he felt roaming inside his chest.
I didn't take 5 seconds after he had rung that the door was opened for him.
This was without a doubt Dean in front of him. Dean, looking as hero-like as always though living a relatively quiet life by now, just like he was ready to put on his leather jacket and get into the Impala and drive a good 500 miles before night fell.
And Sam could feel just one question in the back of his throat. Tell me you moved on. Tell me you really did.
But by Deans expression he already knew the answer and the grip around his duffel bag tightened.