Have another chapter while waiting for the tag for the new episode or if you're on the west coast, while you're waiting for the new episode ;)
Chapter 2.
Sam dials Dean as soon as he makes it back to his room, pacing like a caged animal, shaking hand rubbing over his mouth as his brother's phone rings. In his mind, Sam runs through all the endless possibilities of the completely normal and completely fatal reasons his brother is MIA. He's swearing under his breath when Dean picks up on the last ring.
"Yello," his brother says, and his voice is sharp and airy like he's breathing in cold air during a chase, his breath racing out after the greeting.
"Dean?" Sam says, his voice smaller than he wanted, relief making his bones go weak.
"Yep, Sam, you okay?" Dean asks, his voice louder than needed, but Sam knows what his brother looks like right now. His eyes are bright, on fire. His hair is wind tussled and standing on end, his white skin wind-brushed with the Kansas winter chill, a too-pretty flush on his cheeks...he looks high. He is; the adrenaline rush Dean's favorite fix of all time...the hunt.
"Where are you?" Sam asks, recovering from his shock, anger taking him, where was Dean at by himself, hunting by himself? Hadn't they decided not to do that anymore? "I woke up and you weren't here." Slips out almost unconsciously, Sam bites his lip with the silence on the other end of the phone.
Dean voice is steadier, calmer. "Didn't you see my note, Sammy? You don't sound so good."
"Uhmm," Sam stops, walking back to Dean's room and spotting the white piece of paper there on the unslept in half of the bed.
A note.
He left another freaking note.
Sam rubs a rough hand down his face and fears for his phone he clutches it so hard, his teeth grind together as he takes a deep breath, how could he? But there it is, and he picks up the little piece of paper finding the words scrawled over it; mom called, needed a hand. Rest up, be back soon.
Rest up, really...Sam scoffs, their last hunt had been five days ago and yeah, he'd gotten knocked around a little but come on he was more than okay by now.
"Sam," Dean says in his ear, "I can hear you grinding your teeth you know?"
Sam sighs and takes calming breath, "Its fine, I just, it was just a dream I guess." He can feel Dean softening from miles away.
"Be back soon Sammy, I'll bring you some good coffee."
"Whatever." Sam mumbles, it was going to take a lot more than coffee for Dean to make up with him. He turns on his heel going back to his bedroom a refreshing shower in mind.
"Sam..." Dean starts in placating tones but Sam stops him.
"See you in a bit, kay?" Hangs up before Dean can return, feels low knowing Dean's focus is off the hunt now, and is probably less than happy...would probably be miserable until he got home.
The jerk deserves it, he thinks, and swears not to think about it anymore. Promises, promises, his mind taunts back. He rolls his eyes at himself as he steps into the shower and attempts to wash the horrible start to his day away.
He doesn't look up when the bunker door creaks open a few hours later and shuts with a slam. A vente cup of Starbucks espresso is placed under his nose, and god it smells so good Sam almost falls into it face first. He restrains himself however, and moodily pushes it aside, since it's in the way of the book he's pretending to read.
Dean doesn't even blink, is smirking, Sam knows without even looking. He sits with a pleased sigh in the seat across from Sam and props his feet on the table, siping from his own coffee.
"Hmm Sammy," he purrs, "So good, and hot and strong...I can literally fell the comfort and happiness seeping into my bones with every drink." He smacks his lips and smells in the coffee steam with a robust breath.
Sam purses his lips and manages not to smile, shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Dean slurps loudly with his next drink, moans after he swallows("so good") and stretches out more comfortably, a catch in his muscles that Sam unconsciously notices. Dean taps the table with his hand.
"Hey Sammy, if you don't want that..." reaches across the table for Sam's cup.
The younger Winchester strikes out lightening fast, he throws Dean's hand away from his cup. "I'll cut your hand off if you take my coffee," he growls as he takes the lid off his cup and breathes in the hot steam, sighs feeling the stress ease from his body immediately.
Dean smirks and looks very pleased with himself, "Aaaanddd Sammy is back to the land of the living."
Sam glares at him.
Dean chuckles and runs fingers through his hair. Sam can smell the outside on him and the sharp, familiar scent of his sweat. His contentedness sweetens with coffee and Dean's presence but sours too with the thoughts of his brother's shenanigans else where without him.
"You're a dick."
"I know, I know." Dean chuckles and Sam chunks his pen at him. Dean catches it and laughs, tossing it back.
"I can't believe you left without me."
"You needed some rest, you weren't ready to hunt again."
"Bullshit, and I hate you."
"I know you do." Dean smiles sunnily and Sam finally looks up and thinks he looks much worse than he sounds...looks drawn and like he's been through more than few hours away from Sam and the bunker should intel.
"And a note, Dean? Really, after everything a freaking note..." he just breaks off and sips his coffee frowning.
"Oh." Dean deadpans.
"Yeah." Sam answers.
Dean mirrors his frown as they share solemn silence, thinking of the past and the darkness there. Dean seems to realize how what he'd done looked to Sam for the first time. And Sam takes in the wrinkles in his forehead and a little darkness under his eyes, still a nervous tremble about his body from the hunt that should have been gone by now.
Suddenly that horrible fear is back, "You okay?" He asks, leaning forward in his seat.
Dean's eyes are faraway and are slow coming to Sam's. "Uhm," Dean starts, and swallows thickly and Sam knows these signs by heart, has seen them too many times. "Yeah I'm good, sorry...sorry Sammy, about earlier and the note I didn't think, that was careless of me."
Sam frowns, suddenly unconcerned with that. "It's...okay, are you sure you're good? You don't look good." He gets up and rounds on Dean's side of the table. Dean is white, but his smile stretches wide and sincere. Sam is suspicious, knows when Dean is hurt, when he's hiding, when he's lying.
He looks around, "Where's mom?"
Dean's expression darkens at that, "Said she couldn't stay, had somewhere to be."
Sam sighs. Of course, and she didn't know Dean, she wouldn't make him 'fess up to any injuries.
"What were you guys hunting?" He asks, pulling out the chair beside Dean's and sitting down.
Dean lifts his top lift in disgust, "Witch, skeevy old thing too, hate freaking witches."
Sam smiles. "Where'd she get you?"
"I told you I'm fin..." his words are cut off when he stands, the pain making them short and Sam frowns. Dean lets out a breath and then looks down at Sam, "I'm fine, I'm going for a shower."
He walks away and Sam sighs running hands down his face and gets up as soon as Dean is gone, hurrying after him. He stops in his brother's open door spotting clothes already discarded on the floor haphazardly.
"Dean," he calls, "Really..." he waits for any answer, hears Dean moving around in the bathroom. "I just...I just wanna know if you're alright, I woke up and you were gone..." he suddenly can't talk past the lump in his throat. "And I don't know, I freaked...and I just wanna know if your hurt that's all..."
He waits, listening for Dean's answer. Honestly, his pissed. He knows Dean can hide injuries marvelously well from experience, but he can't help but feel somehow betrayed by both of them. By Mary that she allowed Dean to get injured and dropped him off like some bare acquaintance without making sure he was alright. And by Dean who had left the house without him...because ninety-nine percent of the time Dean's heart kept beating because of Sam's extreme care not because of Dean's.
And really they knew nothing of their mom's hunting style. Didn't know if she was cold and calculating, slow and careful, or violent and reckless...and Dean had just left with her without so much as a fare thee well to Sam.
Seriously, his brother was going to get himself killed one of these days.
There was nothing he could do now, though, so he sighs, will be mad at their mom as soon as he knows Dean is okay. Sam is anxious and live with nerves, Dean rarely acted so casual and laid back when he was hurt, Sam could usually see through his lies because he tried too hard. Dean had not tried. He seemed to have been floating along, unconsciously going through the motions, like he didn't even know he was hurt.
He swallows again and steps nervously into his brother's room, "Dean?" He calls again, because there's only silence coming from within.
...tbc
How is Dean hurt? And what does this have to do with Sam's dream of black eyes???!!!
Love stringing y'all guys out lol!!! Leave a REVIEW!!!! ;)