Ending 1
Dean saw the flash of metal in Sam's hand and watched as his brother slipped a silver, embossed flask into the bag. He frowned. Realization dawned and Dean's gut twisted as the pieces changed drastically. Sam's odd reaction the night before—not typical to injury. The shaking, the sweaty, clammy skin— all started to slide into place. Dean swallowed hard and forced himself to speak evenly.
"Bit early to be hitting the sauce, isn't it?" Sam seemed startled again as he looked around at Dean, then quickly back at his bag. Dean watched as Sam's shoulders squared and he carefully straightened before looking back at him again, managing to look genuinely puzzled.
"Sure, but...I was just restocking our supply of holy water." Sam pulled out a fresh set of clothes and zipped the duffle before turning around. "In case you need to dose another Winchester brother coming out of the woodwork with Jesus juice, ya know?" Sam smiled awkwardly and headed back into the bathroom. Dean watched him go with a heavy heart and the sensation of having been drop-kicked in the gut when the door closed firmly behind him. Sam was apparently all better from his ghoul encounter...he looked like a different person.
Dean's eyes fluttered closed and he leaned forward, resting his forehead in his right hand, his elbow braced against his knee as the other hand propped on his hip. Alcohol withdrawl. That was what had caused Sam to act different? Like himself? Logically, loss of blood could accelerate the effects of withdrawl. If a substance relies on a certain something to thrive and that something is lost, than so is the substance. Dean hadn't even noticed that Sam even had a drinking problem lately, but from what Sam had told him about those four months, the ratio of days wasted to days sober was staggering. That paired with the episodes from the night before, the "needing" something, the shaking—what was the side effect called? Delirium Tremens, Dean remembered. And the flask this morning—a flask he hadn't even seen in months or during any demonic encounters when it would have proven useful—all added up to too much to ignore.
Dean hung his head to thread his hand through the back of his hair. Anger held his gut in a fiery hold while sorrow spiked icy through his chest. It wasn't fair. Just twenty-four hours earlier, he'd had Sam back. And now? Dean pulled in a shaky breath and looked towards the bathroom, very much feeling the symbolism of the tightly closed door and his brother shut in behind it. Green eyes turned fiery as they swung over to the duffle perched innocuously on the dresser. Dean wanted to tear that bag apart, rip out the flask, pour its poisonous contents down the drain, and flatten the silver casing with a sledgehammer. But he forced himself to breathe. Going postal on Sam's personal belongings would not help him get back his brother. Dean needed a plan. A plan to get the Sam he'd seen last night back to him.
The contents of that flask were taking Sam away from him and Dean needed to find out how to stop it. He realized he hadn't been the best example in those first few months, drinking all hours of the day when the memories of Hell had tormented him too much, but Dean had put an end to that after confessing to Sam what it was that was bothering him so much, what he had been doing in the summer months. Dean cursed quietly at himself, suddenly wondering if his own issues had kept him from being able to pick up on Sam's.
He clenched his fingers into a fist and pounded it ineffectively against the mattress. Screw that. He was taking notice now. He wouldn't let a freakin' addiction take Sam away from him any longer. If Dean was in fact the one to invoke Sam's addiction, then it seemed only fair that he'd be the one to end it. Throughout his entire life, Dean had come to live by and know that if he knew what something was, what the issue was, then he could stop it. Usually it applied to hunts, but it was the same with what was going on here, now, as well. Dean knew what Sam's issues were, therefor he could do something about it, could put an end to it. Dean knew that his little brother was still somewhere in the seasoned, armored hunter he been forcefully twisted into. And that was all the motivation Dean needed to keep going. He had fought for his little brother his entire life...he wasn't about to stop now.
The End
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Notes
Alright, so there's ending numero uno. I thought it would be fun to write Dean's conclusion to Sam's "odd" behavior as something that is actually not too far from the truth.
I made some logical assumptions with the whole "Blood Loss" tied to "Accelerated Withdrawl." Not saying they're accurate, but hey*shrugs*.
Reviews are like making Dean exclaim "Damnit!" in a very amusing way...and I'm Kripke: )
--- Lil ---
