When Sam woke up he saw a spinning black ceiling fan attached to the roof, a sight he saw pretty much everyday. He heard his brother stir on the bed next to him, scratched his head, and put his hand back under the pillow with his hand clutched to the hilt of his long knife. This brought Sammy back to the events that had happened earlier in the mourning: That Demon girl. Now she was crazy, and it made him so... Scared. But what scared him the most was that Dean and their father couldn't do anything that would save him, he was helpless. The fact was, and he knew this now, if he hadn't helped himself, he wouldn't be looking up at the ceiling fan or hearing his family snoring softly. Such was a sad realization.
Sam felt his stomach gurgle, screaming for food. He sighed quietly to himself and stood up from the bed, the purple blanket still wrapped around his shoulders. He turned his head towards the counter and saw two peanut-butter sandwiches on a plastic plate with salt and vinigar, a flavor that only he liked, chips to the side. Next to the plate was a piece of paper with blurry writing on it. He stepped over to it and first picked up the note.
'Dear Sam, we kind'a guessed you'd be hungry when you woke up, so at about 3 A.M Dean made you some sandwiches. I thought it was weird, so I wrote you this note to tell you. Now, Dean can't deny it. Hahaha! Love Dad.'
Sam put the note down and smirked to himself. It was very rare for Dean to do something for him like this; He'd usually say, "make it yourself, Lazy Buddha." Of course that was before he knew the word 'Bitch'. Although, he much prefered being called Sammy, his little kid name, then either of them. But, then again, coming from Dean, what he prefered would never be given.
Losing the abillity to fight his hunger any longer, he grabbed one of the sandwiched and stuck it in his mouth, chewing it apart. No jelly, just as he liked it! All the times he thought Dean hadn't been paying attention to things he liked and disliked, he found at the moment, were lies. Apparently, Dean had been listening, which made him grin widely. Though, right now, he'd rather consentrate on his food than his brother.
-0-
"Hey, Sammy, you know that demon's still on the loose. Aren't you scared she'll come back here to get you?" Dean asked, yawning widely and loudly afterwords. Sam shook his head and dried his brown hair with the tower in his hands after stepping out of the bathroom. He was dressed in a red shirt with no logo and long white sleeves, thick blue jeans that stopped just at his ankles, and a necklace with black leather strings and a sharp fang at the end. Dean glared at the fang intently, curious about where it came from... But finding no possibilities. The only thing for certain was that it was definatly, without a doubt, a demon's fine sharp tooth.
"Where'd you get the tooth?" He asked, continuing to stare at it. Sam looked down at the tooth and shuddered silently to himself.
"Remeber when I flipped that girl? Well, when her face hit the floor, she dropped a tooth, so I picked it up without thinking," Sam replied swiftly. Dean nodded, letting him know he was listening, and turned to the neatly-made bed opposite of Sam's.
"Dad went off hunting without me?" He whined. Dean ran his fingers through his dark brown hair as he made his shocked and hurt face. He hated having to be stuck baby-sitting Sam, he much rather be fighting some awesome monsters!
Sam walked into the bright kitchen beside them and wrapped his fingers around the handle, pulling it open. He shivered against the cold, especially after taking a shower so few minutes ago, and shakily too out a blue carton with a lumpy bottom. He placed the styrofome container on the granite counter and grabbed a pot from a large suitcase against the counter walls. He put the eggs inside and pushed Dean in front of the stove with the ot on it. Dean looked back at him and crossed his arms.
"Do it your-"
"I don't know how! And the last time I ate was, like, six hours ago! Please, Dean," Sam made his puppy dog face. Dean rolled his eyes and cracked the five eggs open, tossing the wet shells at his annoying brother. Sam stuck his tounge out at Dean and threw it back.
"You're a brat, you know that," Dean grumbled, turning on the stove. He shook the handle a little before leaving him alone and going into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Sam sighed boredly and jumped onto a couch in front of nothingness. He wrapped his fingers around the leather of his necklace and pulled it off. He looked at its sharp tooth and flicked it once.
"She won't come after it, will she?" He asked himself, putting it back on. Suddenly, his cellphone rang: His dad. "Hello?" He asked innocently.
"Sam... Are you okay?" John asked him worriedly.
"Yeah," Sam asked in a confused tone. John sighed in relief and shifted the phone.
"Good, you had me worried for a second... Now, Sam, I need you to do me a favor," John said. Sam felt a spark inside his stomach. His dad needed him to do something! He was asking him!
"Yeah?" He asked, trying to serpress his excitment.
"Tell Dean I'll be home in a weak, his phone died,'' John replied, ending the call. Sam clossed his phone slowly and and set it down on the couch next to him. His grin had fallen disapointedly, his eyes loosing their glisten. Sam brought his bare feet on the couch, hugging his legs and resting his chin on his knees. He sighed in a depressing sound. It wasn't fair, he actually thought he needed him for once, but once again he was let down. Though, Dean was older, stronger, and smarter, so of course he was needed more... He just wanted a chance for once, you know?
Dean came out of the shower just in time to shut the oven off and slam the pot on the counter-top. Sam turned his attention to Dean and stood up to stroll over to him, watching as Dean took out a credit card from their dad's wallet, which he had taken before their dad left.
"Dean..." Sam trailed. He was sure his brother wouldn't mind, but something about how tired Dean was put some doubt in his mind.
"What?" He asked unconciously, smirking at his credit card.
"Dad called... He said he wouldn't be back until a week from n-"
"WHAT!" Dean snapped. He slammed the credit card on the counter and kicked the doors of its walls. Sam stared at him in confusion and a little hurt, what was so wrong with their dad not coming back for a week, was it spending time together?
"What's so wrong with that?" Sam asked. Dean crossed his arms and grunted obnoxiously.
"I have to baby-sit you," Dean answered, sounding completely bored and annoyed. Sam frowned and balled his hands into fists.
"I'm not a baby, spending time with me isn't baby-sitting!" Sam defended himself. Dean rolled his dark brown eyes and shook his head.
"Yes you are a baby, Sammy, why do you think I call you that?" He retorted. Sam growled and pushed him.
"Don't push me!" Dean yelled, pushing him back against the couch, knocking him down against the grey carpet. Sam jumped up and rubbed his arm, eyes welling up with tears, but not even daring to fall. Dean stared at him angrily, not even feeling a single drop of guilt. Sam bit his bottom lip, knowing what he was going to say, but worrying his brother wouldn't yell at him for saying it.
"I wish that demon would've killed me so I wouldn't have to see you again!" Sam shouted. Dean stepped over to him and leaned down to match his hight, eyes full of fire. Sam gulped: Like this, Dean seemed really scary, like his brother was a demon himself.
"Yeah? Well so do I, because I hate you," Dean agreed with him, walking away to leave the motel in mere seconds. Sam stood there silently, not able to believe his brother had said that. Finally, he mumbled that he hated him, too, and made his way to his bed. His eyes trailed over to the alarm clock: 10:00 in the morning. Maybe if he got some sleep a few more hours things would cool down for a while... Maybe.
-0-
Dean left his brother standing there as he left the motel, eyes burning brightly. He walked across the parking lot and to the direct sidewalk. Then, after thinking about it for a few minutes as he paced down the sidewalk, he stopped in in his tracks. Why did he say he hated Sammy? He didn't hate him... But he didn't want to be stuck with him while he could be beating the crap out of monsters! But then again, his brother was so annoying and childish! Which brought him back to his fast pacing and anger. Yeah, now he hated his brother. If Sammy had never been born then he and his dad would not have to worry about taking care of him and they'd be together right now making Vampires eat their own blood... Or drink their own blood.
"Why did he have to be born and ruin everything!" Dean snarled, kicking a metal stop sign.
-0-
At about 12:00 at night, Dean finally came home to see Sam sprawled on his bed with his necklace on the floor beside him. He glared at him angrily and waltsed passed him, putting the pizza and beer he bought on the granite counter. He unscrewed the beer bottle, set the cap down and took a big chug. He set it down after it was half way gone and opened the white pizza box. Dean took a piece of the saucy cheese pizza and took a big bite out of it. Suddenly, he heard Sam wimper quietly, causing him to jump and stare at him. As soon as his eyes latched onto his brother like a fish hook, he stopped.
Dean shook himself: So what if he was hurt or having a nightmare? In fact, who cared if he was being attacked by a demon or werewolf or whatever? He didn't, just one less person to lug around.
-0-
The next morning, Sam woke up to see an intoxicated Dean asleep on the couch. He wrinkled his nose and stood up from the bed. There was an empty pizza box and six empty bottles of beer lying on the granite counter. Sam sighed and stared down at his grumbling sandwich. He stepped over in front of his brother and rolled him off the couch, instintly waking him up. Dean looked up at Sam before his eyes grew wide and he ran to the bathroom to throwup. Sam curled his eyebrows down in anger.
"You went out for fourteen hours just to com back and drink yourself drunk!" Sam yelled. After Dean's throwing up stopped, he stood up from the toilet and turned unsteadily to his younger brother.
"Shut up, I'm not in the mood to deal with you!" Dean coughed. Sam squinted his eyes and crossed his arms tight across his chest.
"Of course you don't want to deal with me, your having a hangover stupid!" Sam growled. Dean slammed the bathroom doors as he left and stood in front of Sam.
"Shut up Sam, you're the one being stupid!" Dean hissed. Sam bit his bottom lip.
"It's true! You think Mom would like how you're acting?" Sam lost control of his mouth. Dean tightened his fists and slapped him across his face, leaving a deep red mark and knocking him to the floor in surprise.
"Don't talk about Mom like that!" Dean growled.
