Chapter 2.
Dean's right Sam doesn't like it. Only because they have to do what John says but still packing with a teenager dragging their feet. Not fun. Sam crams all his favorite books into his backpack and duffle instead of clothes and shoes so Dean has to discreetly repack for him. He sits slumped down in the couch staring at the TV moodily as Dean grabs their most important belongings from around the little apartment that has been their home for the last seven months.
"Ever think about just running, just letting dad kiss your ass?" Sam asks when Dean slumps down at the opposite end of the couch.
"All the time." Dean mumbles.
"Then why don't we?" Because he knows Dean would never leave him, ever.
"Because he's our dad, family. And it's not what mom would want."
Sam bites the inside of his mouth and says nothing else. Dean knows in his young mind that's not enough, that in Sam's mind they'd be better off on their own. And who knows? Maybe they would be. But they'll never find out because Dean will never go for it.
"It was just getting tolerable here too." Sam pouts and Dean laughs drily.
"Yeah reckon dad could sense all that fun we were having?"
"Probably." Sam snorts and they both laugh quietly.
"This is my first time flying." Sam says
Dean shrugs, "You'll be fine." He swallows, "Thousands of people do it every day."
"I'm not scared." Sam states, "Just always wanted to is all."
Dean smirks and throws Sam a blanket, they cuddle up on their perspective ends of the couch, dozing off in front of the low humming TV, cold feet meeting in the middle for shared warmth.
...
The morning comes all too soon for Dean. The early sunlight comes through the front windows and lays across his eyelids rousing him. He blinks in the bright light and runs hands down his face in a dry scrub, hoping beyond hopes when he moves his hands and his eyes open it's a different day, a different time...a different earth.
No such luck for Winchesters, least of all Dean. He stands up from the couch groggily and adds his blanket to Sam's since it's pretty chilly in the room. He puts on coffee and calls the landlord, saying he'd leave the key under the mat and that whatever they leave behind is all his. Not that anybody would want whatever junk Sam and Dean accumulated while they were there.
He showers, changes clothes and shaves because the way you look has a impact on your day no matter how small...Dean hopes it'll have an impact on him. As he pulls the hunter green t-shirt over his head he stares at himself in the mirror, takes in the wide eyes in his white sharp- featured face.
He can feel the anxiety building up inside him, like a sea getting angrier and angrier waves crashing and reaching new heights every moment. His body is alive with energy, and his muscles are tight with tension. Too bad there's no time for a run or workout this morning so he could sweat out some of his anxiety and stress.
As it is he squares his shoulders at himself in the mirror and opens the door to find Sam half asleep at the table shoveling a huge bowl of lucky charms into his mouth at an astonishing rate. He gives Dean a lazy grin and a grunt as a good morning, sighs contentedly as he smells in the steam of the big cup of coffee Dean sets in front of him.
Dean sits across from him as usual. They both bask in their last moments here in this house they made a home for a short time. They bask in the quietness and peace of their life without John...it would soon be over. Dean sighs again at that, and tries not to think about everything waiting for them in Washington...the jobs for him, the frustration for Sam...they'd get little time together and even less support.
They have this thing they do. A sort of tradition. On the last night or morning at a house or an apartment, they share their favorite part with each other. It was something they'd done ever since Sam can remember. It was the boys way of coping and saying goodbye, of fighting the pain of having their tender roots yanked up again.
This apartment faced the rising sun and there was something about the way the sun lit up the front rooms in the morning that was bright and hopeful. The blinds allowed the sunlight to cast stripes all over the furniture and their skin as they ate in silence.
"So what is it?" Dean asks, mumbling through a full mouth, "What's your favorite thing this time?"
Sam cocks his head to the side, that big brain working slow so soon after he woke up. He takes another bite before he can be troubled to answer.
"I liked me and you here. I like how dad left us here...I like the..." He makes a flat motion with his hand, "I liked us just living, one day at a time. Not you running somewhere on dad's beck and call, not you getting in trouble to help someone else. That's what I liked." They'd be losing that freedom as soon as they got to John.
Dean blinks and then smiles widely, ruffles Sam's hair affectionately.
"How about you?" His little brother asks, slurping as he inhales his morning dose of caffeine.
Dean hums and holds out his hand over the table top, the sun falling in stripes over his skin. "Well...other than what you said." He grins at Sam, because of course Sam would say something that couldn't be topped. "I liked this."
Sam holds out his hand too and watches how the light falls in lines over their skin, how the light seeps through even the tiniest cracks and lights up the darkness for them. "Yeah." He says smiling, "Yeah me too..."
...
They grab their bags and an old taxi to the airport that Dean's afraid they'll die in, but not nearly as scared as flying makes him. He chokes over a thank you and paying the driver because inside he's screaming 'take me away from here as fast as you can!'
He and Sam stand for a few moments getting their bearings, Dean swallowing around the lump in his throat and keeping his breakfast down. It's a clear morning. The sky blue and the clouds fluffy and white. Birds are flying overhead and calling to each other in the mostly quiet airport. It's deceivingly safe looking, Dean thinks vehemently.
Sam pulls him inside gaping at everything, his eyes and giant brain taking in everything new and cataloging it away for later. He stands looking at the maps as Dean goes to the desk to get their tickets.
"Will you boys be alright by yourselves?" The woman at the desk asks, watching Sam with a motherly smile.
"Yes ma'am, we'll be fine." Dean lies expertly, "Our dad travels a lot for work so we do too."
"Alright, have a nice flight." She says, and Dean thinks that's like saying have a nice death, boys.
He goes back to his little brother who begins to explain to him their route, which he's figured out by himself in the last thirty seconds. Dean shakes his head fondly and looks for a bathroom, because seriously he can feel sweat running down his spine. He gives Sam some money to buy snacks for the flight and then makes a beeline for the bathroom.
It's one of those single ones, so he locks the door and turns on the water. Splashing his face and breathing deep. He stares at himself in the mirror, tries to look resolute.
"C'mon Dean, you can do this. You have to do this."
And that almost makes it worse. He has to. There's no choice, there's no backing out. There's no way for to punch or fight his way out of this one. There's no one to save or protect...just himself terrified while being completely safe in theory.
"You can do this for Sam." He says. "Do it for Sammy."
He places one of his hands on his chest feeling his heart hammering way too fast. Hell, they weren't even boarding yet and he was close to a panic attack. He turns away from the mirror breathing through his nose and the other hand gripping a fistful of hair. He can't even watch this moment of weakness himself.
"Thousands of people do it everyday, Thousands of people do it everyday..." he repeats to himself over and over.
There was nothing to fear it was completely irrational, and for Dean, inexcusable.
He feels frustrated tears pricking his eyes, and rubs them hard with his fingers. "I'm such a sissy." He whispers with a nervous laugh.
"What's wrong with you Dean? You've been through way crazier crap than this, so put on your big boy pants and let's do this!"
"Dean c'mon!" Sam yells, banging on the door, "They just announced our flight, c'mon time to board!"
This is not going to end well...Dean thinks, and that's putting it mildly.
...tbc
Thanks for reading! Oh dear dean, plz be alright :(:(:( REVIEW!? :):):):)
To a guest Black Panther; thank you so much for your sweet review! It meant the world to me...I'm so humbled and thankful even if I only make one person's day when I post! I love you so much, thank you again and again! ;);):):)
