I hate you by twilightercullenxoxo

Part II

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, anything related to Supernatural or anything mentioned in this fic that I haven't already covered.

Am looking for a beta, so if you're interested let me know! :D

Hours later, I find myself at the public library. I am copying signs I made of Sam to post around town. It says HAVE YOU SEEN SAM in huge writing, with a somewhat current photo. It says the basic facts about my little brother, and my contact information.

It was strange to me how I already missed Sam. I missed how he'd randomly ask me questions. I needed Sam around, it suddenly occurred to me. I felt like a dog that'd suddenly had a chain removed that had been on him for what seemed like forever. Confused, lost, scared and unsure of what to do. The dog tries to make it back to the owner. Some dogs make it; some don't. That meant I'd have to call Dad soon. Shit.

'If I don't find Sam tomorrow, I'll call Dad," I promised myself.

I handed out flyers all day, with little to no success. I kept handing them out, and asking around during the night as well. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I just looked for Sam.

The trail was getting colder by the second, so I knew I had no choice but to call Dad. Hands shaking as I dialed the number. It rang a few times, and then Dad answered.

"Dad?"

"What? What's goin' on, Dean?"

"Somethin' bad happened." My throat threatened to constrict.

"What's goin' on?" he repeated, getting angrier by the second.

"Sam's gone." The tears that had threatened me all day suddenly busted free and I couldn't contain them.

"WHAT?" he yelled into my ear. I flinched, and kept crying.

"I think Sammy ran away. I've been tryin' to find him...but…I have little leads." I choked out between sobs.

"I'll be there soon. Don't fucking move." He said darkly, a deep silence filling the phone as he hung up.

I sat on the stoop, smoking cigarette after cigarette. The words Dad had said, the words Sam had said, the words I hadn't said just kept playing over and over in my head.

'Leave! I don't want you here!'

'Why can't you be more like Dean?'

'Maybe I don't wanna be like Dean!'

It kinda stings a little when your only reasons for getting outta bed in the morning don't want you around. Okay, it feels like someone just stabbed me then poured lemon juice in the wound. If you wanna get technical.

Dad showed up after a few hours, flying out of the car like a mad man. I'd barely stomped my cigarette out before he was throwing me into the ratty place. He slammed the door shut, and spun around. His face was red and purplish with rage, he grew in size when he was angry and this time he was GIGANTIC.

"What the Hell, Dean? I wasn't gone for a DAMN week!" he spat.

"H-h-he just r-ran off. I-I was sleepin', and he left. H-he took his clothes, took my m-money." I stammered, tears still welling up in my sore eyes.

"You're supposed to look out for him! You're supposed to call me if things go wrong! I'm supposed to be able to count on you!" he said, as he slapped me hard. I've been slapped before, but nothing hurt quite like a Dad slap.

Maybe it was because with a stranger, there was no love lost between the hunted and the hunter.

He kneed me, making me collapse on the ground. Seeing stars and gasping for air, I cried hard. He stormed out, leaving me alone. I crumpled into a little ball, sobbing for me and my lost brother.

I hoped, wherever he was, that he was at least having some fun.

Later on, I slept uneasily. Dad had forced me to lie down. Images of a bloody Sam on the ceiling, shouting, 'Leave! I don't want you here!' took over my dreams.

I finally awoke in a cold sweat, 'Sam!' still hot off my lips. Nausea overtook me.

I somehow made it to the bathroom, my bruised and sore body yelling in rebellion as I retched uncontrollably into the toilet. What little I had in my stomach came, along with bile. Dad came in, and sat by me. I flinched, and retched loudly again. Tears sprung to my eyes, as he placed a hand on my tense back.

Flushing and shutting the lid, I stood up shakily. I looked up at Dad who had a mixed expression on his face.

"Got a phone call while you were out. Someone saw your flyers and spotted Sam. He's in Flagstaff. I'm gonna go get him. Then, we're gonna head out to Bobby's for a while."

"I'll go." I said, breathlessly.

"I need to talk to Sam. Alone. Plus, you look like hell, dude," Aka, Sorry for beatin' the shit out of ya.

"Oh. If you say so," Aka sorry for losing Sammy.

I ate a small meal, showered and slept comfortably. I awoke to the sound of the front door slamming.

"And you apologize for scarin' Dean hafta death with that little stunt of yours." Dad called.

Trudging footsteps came closer and closer to the door. I laid back down on the bed, and cracked my eyes. Sam opened the door, and came in. He shut it, and threw a wad of money on my chest.

"I know you're awake, Dean." Sam said his voice full of shame and guilt.

I sat up, rubbing my sleep-filled eyes. I looked up at him, my heart singing in my chest at the sight of my kid brother.

"I'm sorry, Dean. For everything. I really didn't mean to scare you or hurt you." He said, looking at me with those tear-filled, puppy dog eyes that he'd had from the moment he was born.

"No you're not. You're just sorry you were found." I said, half-heartedly. Sam flinched, and I internally berated myself.

I got up out of bed, and walked closer to him.

"I'm gonna need a few days to really forgive you, Sam." He nodded, biting on his lip.

I grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him in for the tightest hug I'd ever given.

"But, I am glad you're safe."

END