Beware that there are spoilers from Mystery Spot.
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me.
Disposition
Blood trickled down his chest, and he barely winced as he carefully, mechanically, extracted the bullet. More blood followed, but that didn't bother him. It shouldn't bother him. Sam wasn't even aware if there was pain, but everything seemed clogged. Water that remained within the sink, with no where to go. As in his nature now, he reached for the threads, and began stitching. No anticipation of pain. No hesitation. It was a clumsy attempt, but he didn't notice. There was probably an agonizing emotion, from the way he struggled to maintain his breathing. There was definitely a lot of blood. But he had seen worse in the three months of his hunt.
Hell, he was the cause. This cause has become crucial to Sam- he had to find him. He needed to feel his blood running through his fingertips. Just like Dean's…
Another prick from his chest made his lips curve downwards only slightly, almost bearing his teeth, but he regained control. His eyes, however, couldn't resist a quick glance at an empty bed, right next to his own.
What would Dean have done?
Dean had already dealt his card when Sam died. He chose Hell to keep Sam alive. But Sam?
Revenge.
In a swift move, he clipped the crimson thread.
Sam was never one to obsess over things. He had made it a point in his childhood. He was different from his father and Dean. He remained different. Despite the loss of his mother, Sam remained his own person. No tragic transformation. No sick, stubborn determination. Until now. It seemed that all the feelings that his father hid from them both had suddenly opened up to him.
The thirst for revenge was insatiable. Like the vampires he had hunted, he needed the blood. The pain was addictive. During those times, he felt closer to his father than he had ever felt before.
Sam wasn't proud of it.
This realization came to him as he drove on to his next hunting destination. Sam also realized, as he tried not to acknowledge the empty seat beside him, that Dean was also different.
Dean was different.
It has been long understood that he wasn't like Sam. But Dean wasn't like their father either. No matter how much he tried being like their father, Dean just couldn't perfect it. Even if he picked up their father's attitude, music and love for cars. There was always a bit of Dean-ness in him. And because he was Dean, he took on their father's burden.
Unlike Sam, Dean had that weighing down on him.
Coming to that point in comparison made Sam stop, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly. Only when he mechanically reached for his phone, and listened to Bobby's news did he let his fingers relax.
That hunt had to wait, because he'd just found what he was looking for.
End
Those two have become my muses. Honestly, the angst those two make me write! Still, I'm not that convinced with this one, but I just couldn't help it. Anyway, reviews and criticisms are much appreciated.