Chapter 3 - Neon Shade

Neon: "A colourless, odourless, gaseous element of very low chemical activity; used in some neon lamps."

Shade: "To screen or protect with or as with a shadow; a lamp shade."

Nothing was going to make Sam happy today. The realization of what Dean had done had settled over Sam like a wool coat on a hot day.

The twins, misery and despair, had also chosen today to make their presence known.

Yesterday, Sam had been committed to discussing a salvation plan for Dean. Today, he just wanted time alone to sort through his feelings and work on a plan for Dean by himself.

He had practically bitten Dean's head off earlier today, when they were loading up the Impala and heading out. Dean had since been keeping his distance. Sam had seen the concerned sideways looks Dean had been giving him the last few miles or so.

"Sam, what's on your mind, you haven't said anything for the last fifty miles" Dean finally asked.

"How could you have done it Dean? You shouldn't have done it Dean. How am I going to get you out of it Dean?" were the thoughts raging through Sam, but he didn't tell Dean, he merely replied "Just thinking about things Dean".

Dean gave him a curious glance, but didn't say anything further.

The twelfth part of a solar year, the time which the moon makes one revolution, four weeks...yada, yada, yada. Who the fuck cares? Break down twelve months any which way and Dean's death warrant had still been signed. Within twelve months, he'd be a goner, a was, a past, a dead hunter and warrior, a dead child and a much loved and dead older brother.

Sam suddenly found the car stifling and wanted out. He needed to find some shade. He was running from his mind, his thoughts, his fears.

"Dean, pull the car over, I need to get out" Sam said urgently.

"What?...Here?...Sam, there's nothing around. Can you not hold on for a little longer?" Dean questioned.

"Goddamn it Dean, just pull the fucker over! I need to get out now!" Sam screamed at a stunned Dean.

Dean pulled the car a hard right, stopping on the roadside. Sam had the door open before the car came to a full stop. He slammed the door closed behind him. Bent over with his hands on his knees, he looked in through the passenger side.

Dean went to turn off the ignition. Sam held up his hand motioning him to stop. Dean leaned over and rolled down the passenger side window. "Dean, just keep going okay. Whatever the next motel is, get us a room there, I'll walk it" Sam told him. Dean started to protest, Sam cut him off. "I just need some time alone man, so just go, I'll see you when I get there" Sam said as he turned and began to follow a worn path beside the roadway.

Dean watched Sam walk away, through a haze of concern. He'd let Sam have his space, respect his request for some time alone, be there when he wanted to talk. He pulled back onto the road and drove past his Sammy, checking back every few yards in the rearview, until Sam disappeared from his sight-line.

The constraints of the deal and what was at stake, were weighing heavily on Sam, as he kept walking.

He was thinking about the conversation he and Dean had, sitting at that kitchen table, after the attack and how he hadn't been completely honest with him about what the demon had shown him. He still couldn't get his mind around the fact, that for whatever reason, their Mom had seemed to know the yellow-eyed bastard. Then, there was the terrifying question about how far dark-side he'd go, after seeing for himself that he'd ingested traces of the demon's blood.

He found out he was capable of murder, thanks to Jake. Maybe it could have been considered an act of self-defense, but he still pulled the trigger, he knew what he knew.

He also knew he'd do anything to save Dean. His mind was overburdened with how he was going to do it. He kept thinking about if he let Dean down, and didn't save him, how his big brother was going to die. Would he die strong and noble or weak and frail? Would it be by some accident or a lingering death by a horrible disease? Would Sam be there with him during his final moments or would he not? Sam wiped at the hot tears sliding down his cheeks. He kept walking.

He was no further ahead with any type of salvation plan for Dean, when he reached the outer area of the motel property, just as the gloaming was at its peak.

The selection of the motel's neon signs were glaring and each sign seemed to have various letters burnt out. Sam, despite himself, began playing with the missing letters, working them into various word formations in his mind. Only one word seemed to fit the context of their situation. He took it as the clue he'd been searching for.

This was it, Sam was sure, he'd found a way to shade Dean, at least temporarily, from the deal. They'd vanish!

Sam smiled for the first time that day, as he made his way over to the figure, standing in the room's doorway, looking very concerned and subsequently very relieved when he saw a smiling Sam walking towards him.

To be continued.

Upcoming: Scorched Tin