Thanks for the reviews! And be sure to read my very important author's note at the end of this chapter!
Set: After Season 3, Mystery Spot.
2/3 Present- Tired by Ryan Huston
I'm getting so tired, so tired of the same
The same old shit just on a different day
You think that you know, but how could you see
The problems I face, the battle in me
The days pass me by and still all the same
When nothing is different, it drives me insane
All that I am, all that I'll be
Is so undecided, the battle of me
Sam sat in the Impala by himself as he watched Dean enter the motel himself, asking for a room with two queens. Things were so different now- Dean wasn't who he was before. Sam was eager to break the deal. He felt like he was in a forest finding an antidote to a deathly poison slowly eating away his brother. The only catch was that the antidote could be anything of the color green. That was how hard it was.
But after everything he'd tried, Sam forces himself to try harder and harder. The soft confession that came from Dean that day was unforgettable. When Dean told Sam that he didn't want to go to hell, he promised himself with everything he had that he would save his brother.
But that was before the string of Tuesdays that followed. Sam tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. He didn't want to see Dean electrocuted, or slipping on the wet bathroom tiles. He couldn't stand it anymore.
But Sam will never give up. Come day, night, storm, hail or demon, nothing would stop him. He was determined and he had his mind set. Every morning, he woke up with a tired voice in his mind encouraging him that he'll find something today. It was the only thing keeping him from crumbling.
His brother on the other hand, didn't seem to care. Come chicks, beer, sex, poker- he's up for it. It's like he had forgotten that each day he lived, his year-long life was no longer a year anymore. Soon, it'd be three quarters of a year. Then half a year. And then…
The keys jangled on Dean's hand as he looked at Sam through the other side of the Impala window. "Room 12, what'cha waiting for?"
As they both settled inside the motel, Sam automatically reached for the laptop.
"Hey, Sam, relax. We just arrived here; let's go get something to eat first. The hunt can wait."
Hesitating, Sam replied. "This isn't about the hunt, Dean."
Dean froze in his tracks. He knew full well what Sam meant. "Then what are you doing, kiddo? C'mon, let's go!"
"You know what I'm talking about, Dean."
Dean sighed. "Sam..."
"No, you don't know how much this means to me. Why won't you let me do it? Why are you so reluctant?"
"I'm..." Dean licked his lips. "I'm not reluctant, Sam. I just think you should give yourself a break."
"No." Sam shook his head. "If you're hungry then you can go grab something to eat."
Dean scrunched up his face in frustration. "Fine. We're ordering Pizza." But at least he could hang around and distract Sam in case he does find something. Dean just won't allow Sam to find something.
000
After scrolling through pages and pages on the net, Sam held a glass of water to his lips. The cooling liquid seemed soothing to his throat, but he paid no attention to that. He paid no attention to what Dean was doing. He saw his brother's figure lying on the bed, but asleep or not he didn't care. He seemed so close but in reality so far. He's been at this for months already. His brother's life only had a little over six months until it really ended.
What if I'm on my own by myself all alone
What if I can't be there all the same everywhere
The screen started becoming too bright, the words seemed like they were shifting themselves as Sam rubbed his tired eyes and tried to read. His eyes started to burn and water, his eyelids drooping. Turning his head to face Dean, his lips turned into a thin smile as he saw his brother sprawled on the bed, softly snoring. Shutting his laptop, he silently crawled into bed and stared at the red blinking numbers looking back at him.
It was as if the clock itself was against him; challenging him to stop what he couldn't stop.
11:59.
And then the digits changed.
12:00
Sam swallowed hard. A day wasted. Gone. One less day. No useful information.
He wondered when God would grant him his one desired wish. He was the one who had started everything. Why was he the one that deserved to be the last man standing?
Stifling a yawn, he couldn't help but notice the extra amount of tears that leaked through his eyelids.
000
Sam woke up, earlier than Dean which was a usual occurrence these days. He couldn't help but notice his brother's carefree mood all of a sudden. If someone who didn't know them well enough voiced their opinion, they would tell Sam to give Dean more time so that he'll grasp the idea of what he had done.
But Sam knows that that isn't the case. Sam knows that Dean knows what he did. He doesn't need further reminding. It hurts one brother as much as it hurts the other. But the carefree mood, Sam will never understand that. His brother can be like a jigsaw puzzle one day and an open book the next.
Jotting down a quick "Gone to get breakfast. Be back soon," he left the motel and walked down to the shops. As he arrived, an electronics shop with a muted television on display caught his attention. As the ad unfolded, big words slid onto the screen.
Have you ever felt the grains of sand slipping between your fingers? Have you ever felt that life is too short to do the things you want to do? Have you ever seen the light of someone's eyes die out?
Have you ever lost someone you cared about?
Sam forced himself to tear his eyes away from the screen and walk away. The world was teasing him. He was sure of it.
I'm getting so tired, I'm needing a break
A break from all the, shit that I take
I'm tired of all this, waiting around
For something to happen in this little town
Don't tell me you know, don't say you agree
With all that I'm saying, don't think you know me
All that I am, all that I'll be
Is so undecided, the battle of me
Sam watches Dean sitting on his bed. He watches him from the corner of his eye as his fingers hit the keys of his laptop. He knows that Dean is just itching to be on a hunt instead of sitting around the motel room because Sam refuses to do anything except dig around the internet.
Dean takes a bite of his burger and hums to his music. His hand rests on his thigh, his fingers tapping to the beat of the music. Sam knows that if this situation was any different, the steering wheel of the Impala would be the thing that Dean's fingers were drumming on. Sam knows Dean misses driving the Impala, searching for the next hunt and his brother beside him.
Sam knows that Dean will miss driving the Impala. There are so many things that make Dean, Dean. Sam knows that once Dean is gone, everything will be different.
There will be no need to write stupid notes telling one another that they've gone to get breakfast. There will be no one else to talk to, no one to joke around with him when situations get too out of hand. There will be no need to hide the fact that Sam didn't have a brother anymore- that as far as anyone else knew, Dean Winchester had really died in St. Louis. There will only be one cup of coffee that Sam will bring back to motel which only has one bed.
There will only be one passenger in the classic Impala.
"Sam?"
Dean's voice cuts through his heart-wrenching thoughts like knife through butter.
Sam realizes that his fingers were just resting above the keys of his laptop.
"Sam, give it a rest. Give yourself a break. Sam?"
And Sam's at it again. His fingers mechanically working their way over the keyboard. Dean almost thinks Sam's ignoring him. But then he hears it.
"I can't." A voice so broken and alone. "I have to get you out of this. I have to. You said it yourself, Dean."
Shit. Now Dean doesn't know what to say. "That's not what I meant...I didn't want you to push yourself Sam."
"I'm not pushing myself." Sam grounded. "I need to do this."
"Look Sam, I understand-"
Something in Sam exploded. He whipped his head around and looked at his brother, trying to soften the blow. "No, you don't understand, Dean. I lived day after day after day seeing you die. Seeing the blood flowing out of you, seeing you unconscious-dead on the floor!"
Dean was taken back at what Sam was saying. He couldn't remember much, just remembered the trickster and what Sam told him in the diner.
"I watched you die countless times. From being shot, to being killed by a car, choking on your food, electrocuting yourself, slipping on wet tiles and then being mugged and shot again." Sam's voice cracked on the last one. It was the time that Dean truly died for three months. He had left Sam completely.
If the situation wasn't so serious, Dean would have laughed until tears leaked out of his eyes. Dean Winchester died because he slipped on some wet tiles?
"Sam..." He started.
Sam shook his head. "No, don't say it. I have to do this. Whatever it takes, I have to."
Seeing the raw desperation in Sam's eyes took Dean's breath away. The pain, the honesty, it was all too much. His mind briefly remembered the look of relief when Sam woke up to see Dean on Wednesday morning. And then the unexpected hug. It all made sense now, what Sam went through, what he saw.
"You don't have to stick around." Sam said. "If it makes you feel better, head down to the bar and pick up a girl."
Dean shook his head. "You're doing this for me, Sam. I'm not going anywhere. And above the stormy ocean, Sam found his light again. He smiled, an appreciation that Dean was in fact right behind him still supporting him gave him an extra supply of fuel to run on.
To Dean, that smile was one he had been missing for an awful long time.
What if I'm on my own by myself all alone
What if I can't be there all the same everywhere
Sam had no one to lie to. He knew the truth deep down. Sam didn't want to be alone without a family. Without help, without a friend, without someone. Sam looks at himself in the mirror at time to time. He looks and he thinks. He is one person. Human. One human against so many other supernatural creatures.
Sam had already survived three months before without Dean. How can he survive years- decades without him?
Sam was deathly scared to be alone, all by himself. He admits to no one that his hands tremble at night simply at the thought of it. This was something that he couldn't face- something that he'd never thought about and something he had never, ever been through before.
Sam's not stupid. He knows he'll have to deal with everything and he'll have only himself to rely on. He's the only one that he can rely on when things take a turn for the worse. What if Sam turns evil? Who's there to save him now?
Sam's gone through it all. No one will save him. How can he save himself? How can one stop them from turning into something they have no control over?
Feeling like broken shards of glass that can never be replaced, Sam glanced at his brother wearily. He was in the same position as he was before they had started to talk. Fighting hard to contain an exhausted sigh, Sam closed the laptop and stood up, groaning as he stretched his muscles. Dean's head snapped up and followed Sam's every movement.
"Feel like going out to eat?" Sam asked, tired though there was a high amount of hope in his voice. He wanted to be with his brother again, wanted to feel like no such deal had ever been made.
A smile lit Dean's face as he discarded his walkman like rubbish. "Sure Sammy."
It was a pleasure for both of them to be back in the Impala again. Though it was a short drive, they both missed the passing scenery, the rumble of the engine and the smell of the car.
"Let's go, I'm starving."
"Man, you can't go a couple of hours without food eh?"
"That's why you're lanky like a pole and the chicks come to me like bees to honey." Dean flashed his charming smile.
Sam rolled his eyes, and for a moment he felt like everything was normal again, that the stupid deal had never been made and a new hunt awaited them along with the Impala parked around the corner.
But there were so many what ifs in Sam's mind and so many negative thoughts. But all of a sudden something caused him to snap back to reality. The future was not set in stone. It never was, and it was then that Sam began to wonder when he started believing that it did.
At that instant, Sam forgot about the future. He'd deal with what he could; he'd deal with today and worry about tomorrow, when tomorrow comes. And today, he'd squeeze in some time with Dean before getting back to work again and see if today will be any more different than yesterday.
Sam sat at the table as he watched Dean flirt with the waitress a few feet away. Shaking his head, the corners of Sam's lips curled upwards as he thought of how long a simple order was going to take. His fingers itched to be in front of the laptop, working away like a robot, like how he was every other day, but Sam knew that what he was doing looked wrong.
Dean deserved some time with Sam, who was a solid presence in his life and Sam couldn't be more thankful for that.
His stomach grumbled as he looked at Dean to see if he was done. Dean was leaning in close her, their mouths moving but Sam could not hear what they were talking about. She was writing something down, perhaps the order? Sam was leaning more onto the fact that it may be her number.
Sam smiled suddenly, an idea forming in his mind as he stood up and walked towards his brother.
Dean noticed the figure towering over him and jerked his head up. "Hey Sam." He flashed his charming smile. "What's wrong?"
Sam grinned, and slapped his hand across Dean's back. "Nothing's wrong, darling. Have you ordered yet?"
The waitress stared at them in shock as Sam bit his lip, refraining from bursting out laughing. His grin grew into a smirk as he stared into his brother's eyes.
"Watch your ass, bitch. You're on." Dean whispered as he walked past him, mock anger in his tone.
"Jerk." Sam chuckled. "You were taking way too long."
"You're unbelievable, you Sasquatch. Now go and order."
"Why don't you go and order?"
"I tried that a few minutes ago, Sam."
"You afraid?"
"One more word and I'm getting in the Impala without the food."
"Hey, check it out she's looking at you."
"Sam."
"Shut up, I'm going."
Sam felt light and never before has he felt this sense of normalcy, not even at Stanford. This was Sam's normal.
He felt like nothing was wrong, carefree and at peace. He couldn't ask for anything more with his brother by his side, smirking and winking at him.
Sam softly sighed, wishing that moments like this could last forever. He wished that they would both continue hunting and driving across states; that they wouldn't have a burden on their shoulders, or they'd wake up and breathe in the air with relaxation with nothing haunting their minds.
And he knew that maybe these wishes would come true one day.
IMPORTANT A/N: This is where the fic ends for some people. Readers who feel uncomfortable or bothered by mentions of character deathshould stop here. That was the main reason why I didn't classify this fic as a "Tragedy" since not everyone would be reading a tragedy. Thanks in advance!