Usual disclaimers apply. .Post 'Children shouldn't play with dead things'. Language, profanity and potential whumping to come. Pimp the Limp!
Wow for me this is a bloody quick posting. Not my normal slow dithering snail pace! Must have been inspired by all the positive feedback I received. Thanks one and all.
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Becoming invisible Chapter 2 - Disappearing actWatching Dean sleep only worried Sam further. Lately it seemed that his brother needed the comfort of a bar and alcohol to get through the night.
Curled up on his stomach his brother looked worn out, his hair awry, snoring lightly and completely dead to the world. A herd of elephants could be tap dancing in the room and he wouldn't wake he realised with a wry smile.
Sighing Sam stood up, tired beyond belief but sleep had deserted him yet again last night. There had been too many things to think on and too many memories to haunt his dreams to get any comfort from it. Perhaps Dean had the right idea and may be a few cold beers might do the trick tonight. For a few hours sleep he was willing to give it a go.
Glancing once again at his comatose brother he knew that when he woke he would need some space away from him. Being around his brother now only seemed to serve as an irritant and being hangover Dean was bound to be more than a little testy. No way did he want to be in the firing line of his brother's sharp tongue when he awoke.
The awkwardness of yesterday did not need to be repeated he told himself, still chiding himself for not finding the necessary words of comfort when his brother had opened up to him.
There still weren't enough words to help heal the wounds that damaged his brother, and he didn't want to aggravate them further by hanging around him when he needed his space.
If anything staying at Bobby's had helped reinforce this for him. Stay away from Dean unless he asks. He didn't need the constant reminder around of brother to reinforce just how screwed up his life had become.
He knew that his silence yesterday had only further annoyed his brother, but what could he have said to make any of this better? 'Sorry Dean for not killing the demon when dad had begged me to. Sorry brother that dad loved you enough to die for you. Sorry that your entire life has been screwed because I'm demon tainted? Sorry that I'm this fucked up burden that you can't escape from?'
Shaking his head Sam knew that the best thing he could do right now was to keep his stupid mouth shut. A big fat sorry just wasn't going to be good enough to fill the gaps between them now. As Dean had put it was all too little, too late. All he could do was watch out for his brother the best he could now. And that meant preparing for the hangover from hell to make its appearance.
Checking that the coffee was made and that the small fridge still had a half used carton of orange juice he felt fairly confident that he had everything prepared for when his brother woke up. Then he stopped short with a frown on his face at seeing the now empty bottle of painkillers on the table. Oh this was so not good. A hung-over Dean and a headache were never a good match.
Hurriedly he snatched up his jacket just glad of something positive to do. Picking up the canister of salt he redid the line by the door and taking another look at his sleeping brother closed the door behind him.
The day was grey, spitting a cold rain, and he was thankful for the blanket of clouds as bright sunshine certainly didn't match his mood. Against the damp cold air he shrugged on his jacket with difficulty, cradling his damaged arm to his stomach as he walked realising that he needed the painkillers as much as he brother would on waking.
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The aroma of percolating coffee slowly brought him out of his stupor and he blinked hard in the dusky lit room as memories of the night activities leapfrogged back into memory. Drawing a hand across his face with a desperate groan he wiped away the drying spittle on his chin. Yeah, coffee sounded good right about now.
As he sat up he realised that he had been sleeping fully clothed, except for the fact that his jacket and shoes had been removed. That had to been the doing of his little brother who he vaguely remembered trying to offload him into the bed in the small hours of the morning.
Frowning anew he looked around the small room noting that it was empty though the bubbling sound of the coffee was a welcome sound.
Thankful of not having to see the recriminatory looks on his brother's face he staggered over and snatched a cup of the brown stuff and sipped the hot bitter brew. 'Way to go Saint Sammy,' he smiled sourly as he took another sip,
'Make me feel like a right jerk again,' he whispered to himself noting at how tidy the room was, including his jacket hung over a chair with his shoes peaking out from beneath.
'You'll make someone a lovely little wife someday Samantha,' he chuckled humourlessly to himself as the pinpricks of a conscience started to worry at him.
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Fiddling one armed with a childproof container was no fun. Especially when you were in pain. Exasperated at his inability to get the damn bottle open Sam finally gave up and shoved the bottle back into his pocket trying to block out the fact that his right arm was throbbing ugly spikes of agony every time he moved it now.
Dean's easy taunts the night before about being 'too delicate' when he had complained about breaking his hand had stung. They both knew that a broken arm was only to going hamper their hunting ability, and the way Dean was into the hunt right now he seriously could seriously see this pissing him off no end. Yep, this was another mistake his brother would nail him to the floor with.
The light grey drizzle that followed him around was getting heavier and he knew that he would have to go back to the motel and face Dean sooner rather than later. Swallowing back his reluctance he just hoped that the fact that he came bearing gifts would help lighten his brother's mood. The painkillers, freshly baked doughnuts and the late morning papers might just do the trick.
When he entered the room he could hear his brother singing off key in the shower and he felt a familiar feeling hit him and smiled. A singing Dean was always a good sign. Perhaps today wouldn't be too bad after he hoped as he used his foot to shut the door behind him with a large thud.
"Hey that better be you geek boy?" demanded Dean at hearing the front door slam his singing forgotten as he dried himself off.
"Yeah." responded Sam placing his shopping on the table, wiping his sleeve over his face to wipe away the sheen of sweat and rainwater off his face.
With a towel wrapped around his waist Dean scowled up at his brother as he made his way over to his bed. "Where the hell you been? At least tell me you got some frigging painkillers."
"Yeah. Here," Sam threw over the bottle over and watched his brother snap the top open with ease and then swallowed two pills back with some lukewarm coffee.
Dean eyed the doughnuts with a wide smirk and snatched up the bag stuffing half a doughnut into his mouth with one bite. "Hmmm. Good," was his response before shoving the rest of the sticky dough into his mouth as he started to get dressed.
Sam knew that he was hovering, unsure of what to say next but his brother sharp tongue drove him back to silence.
"You standing there gawking for a reason Sammy boy? Or you just intending to enjoy the little peep show going on here?" snapped Dean as he got into his jeans.
It felt downright uncomfortable having his brother stare at him like that and he wondered if something had gone on last night that he should be remembering. For the last few days Sam had had that well patented puppy dog look on his face, as if something really important needed to be said, but that he didn't have the nerve to say it. And this was freaking him out as nerve was something is kid brother had always never been in short supply of.
Sam ducked his head down, holding himself in, and like a mantra playing in his head he kept telling himself. "Don't make it worse. Shut up. Stay quiet. You've got no words to help him anymore.
Shrugging a dark t-shirt over his head Dean glanced over to where his brother had been standing a little disturbed by Sam's lack of response. He raised an eyebrow in surprise that his brother had retreated to the small table, giving him some personal space without any of the customary bitching and he let out a frustrated sigh.
"You pissed that I got a little stewed last night?" he demanded, wincing inwardly at the challenge the tone of his voice had taken. When his brother shook his head he shrugged deciding to take another tact. "So you managed to find us another gig yet geek boy. Or have you been sitting on your butt all day watching me sleep?"
"No."
"No as in that you weren't watching me sleep or No as in you've dug up diddly squat?" He threw his hand wide in the air, grinning maliciously at his brother waiting for the snarky come back. Already his headache was lifting and the thought of dealing with his little brother and his mood swings didn't seem to big a chore right now.
"Come on Sammy – cat got your tongue or do you just plan do Mr Monosyllabic for the rest of day?" Grinning wide at his brother he knew that last taunt one would raise a response. Monosyllabic. Ha, go chew on that one College boy!
He didn't get to hear his brother's come back as his cell suddenly broke the tension, beating out a rap tune that made him curse out loud. This was another one to kick Sam's butt about later no doubt. The kid had to play with frigging everything.
"Leave my fucking phone alone," he growled at his brother who looked up in him in wide eyed innocence, before seeing the caller Id and his face broke into a broad grin. "Hey dude, you're still alive then! I thought for sure those little hellions would have eaten you whole last night."
Sam watched curiously as for the first time in weeks a warm honest smile reached his brother's eyes. He had forgotten that look and wondered just who it was that could make him appear in high spirits again.
After a few seconds Dean snapped his cell shut and threw a cursory glance over to his brother. "I hooked up with an old buddy of mine last night. Ben Anderson."
"Anderson?" queried Sam, curious at the connection this guy had with his brother, swallowing his anxiety that Dean was readying to sideline him again like he had with Gordon Walker.
"Hell that dude could win a pissing contest with the devil himself." Dean oblivious to his brother's concerns laughed vaguely remembering the lines they had used to impress the local girls, each one working a treat. Shaking his head he added. "Look he's passing through onto another gig. Thought I'd catch up with him for a few drinks before he goes."
"I don't remember him," responded Sam quietly.
"Yeah well not like you ever met him college boy." snapped Dean. "He helped us out a couple of years back, saved dad's ass on a hunt that went bad. Good guy. Knows his stuff."
"I didn't know," admitted Sam miserably feeling the accusations roll off his brother in waves that he hadn't been there for him, for dad. Again.
"There's a lot you don't know, about me, or about dad, seeing that you left us for four years Sammy boy. Bound to be gaps, eh? Anderson is just one of many."
For a second Dean paused, looking at the pain flitter across his brother's face but he chose to ignore it. Dealing with Sam and a potential chick flick moment was not high on his agenda of things to do right now. Ben and a few cold beers sounded like a bit more fun. Hellva lot more fun.
Leaving Sam alone for a few hours would do them both good he reasoned. Sam could get on and do his usual research. This poky little town was bound to have a library he could stick him in for awhile and he could grab a few hours with Ben without having to deal with Sam shadowing him everywhere. It was a win – win situation for him. And for Sam, he told himself.
Picking up his car keys he cocked his head to his once again silent brother and blew out a sigh of exasperation. "Look if you want I'll drop you off at the library and you can disappear into a corner and do your usual geek act. I'll hook up you with later. Ben and I have some business to finish up first."
Sam looked up at him and shook his head. "Thanks but I'd rather stay here and catch up on some sleep and other stuff. I'll catch you later."
"Yeah, later," breathed out Dean a little too quickly, glad of the easy escape his brother had given him.
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It was dark by the time he returned to the motel, and the pangs of guilt at having neglected his brother the last two days was starting to eat away at him so that not even a few beers could rub away the sharp edges of concern.
Little brother was being too damned quiet, too damned compliant he reasoned. Something was going on his screwy little head and no matter how much he had tried to ignore it tonight he would get it out of him, even if he had to sit on him to force it out. If could open up to Sammy then his kid brother could do the same with him.
"Sam," he yelled on opening the door, "Yo Sammy I'm back little brother."
In the open doorway he paused, noting the unmade bed that looked like it had gone ten rounds with his brother and his gangly frame and lost and waited for his brother to call back from the bathroom. "Hey kid, " he barked, banging on the bathroom door before pushing it open with a sinking feeling. It was empty.
"Damn it" he snapped, more angry with himself at expecting his brother to just wait around for him to come back. Pressing speed dial he rang Sam's cell, the wait before his brother eventually picked up turning the acid in his stomach into bile in his throat.
"Dean?" answered a too softly spoken Sam, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Where the hell are you?" demanded Dean in a rush.
"I dunno," responded Sam, the hesitation in his voice then followed by a high pitched giggle. "S'right Deano. Its all good now."
Dean's face fell open, "Are you smashed? Sweet Jesus Sammy I leave you for a few hours and you get drunk? What the hell are you playing at? I'm gonna kick your scrawny butt when I get hold of you."
"Okay."
Dean swallowed hard. "What? Okay about what?"
"You kicking me. S'okay if it makes you feel better," slurred Sam.
"Sammy?" Dean couldn't keep the fear out of his voice. "Just tell me where you are and I'll come and get you. No kicking of your sorry butt I promise." He waited for a response and after a few minutes found himself pleading again. "Come on little brother give me the directions and I'll come and get you. What's the name of the bar that your at."
There was a hitching of breath down the phone before Sam finally responded, his voice heavy with confusion. "Nope, no bar. Scary lady kept making a grab for my butt. Had to leave….long time back."
"Sam this isn't funny."
"Yeah it is" responded Sam with giggle. "Cos I think I'm lost."
TBC
