Chapter 4
"What'll you have hunny?"
Sam blinked, turning from the window viewing his brother to the slightly pump waitress. Bright red lipstick coated her lips along with an obsessive amount of blue eye shadow. She looked down right scary with the makeup on, like a clown in disguise. Unable to even smile at the fact, Sam cleared his throat. "I'll have water and my friend the special." He said softly, voice croaking. The waitress nodded, scribbling down the order on her notepad before tucking it in her apron and taking the menu.
Sighing, Sam turned to look back through the window. His brother could be wearing a sign over his head his body language was so readable. Exhaustion rang off every limb and tendon. Deep down beneath the pain, Sam cared. He just couldn't reach it. A wall had built around his heart. The fear that he could lose Dean again was too strong to tame. What if he started to feel again and then Dean is snatched from his hands? He couldn't last another loss that huge. It would break him to tiny pieces.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, the Winchester truly miserable underneath the emotionless layer shielding him. Tearing his gaze away, he didn't bother to look up as the bell rang, announcing another customer. He knew it was Dean just by his walk and rustle of his leather jacket. The article of clothing had been clutched in his hands for a month after he buried Dean's body. It was his safety net.
"You order for us already?" The gruff voice of his brother reached his ears, the booth cushion squeaking as Dean sat down.
Lifting his chin Sam nodded. "Yeah. Got you the special." His eyes watched as Dean snorted, rubbing his face with a hand.
"Most I got out of you all day." Tapping the table with a finger, Dean looked at anything other than his brother. He didn't want to end up snapping at the kid. He would take one look at the stoic expression and end up screaming at Sam. So instead, his eyes traced every detail of the diner. From the old fashion advertisement of bubble gum to the cow scull hanging on the far wall, they all went under inspection.
"Here you go." The waitress cut in, placing the plates onto the table before disappearing.
The two Winchesters quickly dug into their food, the only substance going into Dean's stomach while Sam sipped on his water. His hands gripped the glass till red framed white bone. His eyes closed as he remembered a memory that continued to haunt him.
Flashes of dirt and ground surrounded him, the metallic clang of metal and rock echoing in his ears. It hurt, the blisters forming on his palms, splitting open as blood mixed with brown. Sweat pooled before spilling downward and soaking into his light white tee-shirt. The denim stuck to his skin, rubbing it raw as he continued to dig not only his brothers, but his own grave as well. Tears welded up in his closed lids, spilling down the side of his cheek as he kept his head turned away from the one person he cared about. A noose twisted tightly around his chest, air coming in loud gasps.
Hands reached into his nightmare, holding his shoulders, fingers twisting in his dirty locks. Like a doll he was turned, eyes snapping open as he found Dean crouching in front of him. No longer was he encased in filth, hair clean and jaw shaven. The bumbling sounds of the diner droned out the metal, memory fading into the background.
However the pain did not end, increasing as claws dug into him. This had to be what Dean felt as he died, Hell Hounds chewing him alive.
"Sammy, come on, don't do this." Dean whispered, hand moving to cup the side of his little brother's face. Tears wet his palm. He had been eating when he noticed quiet sobs coming from the youngest Winchester. Immediately dropping his fork he shot up, the sobs turning into gulps of needed air. Ignoring the rest of the public he centered on bringing his brother back, the youth frozen in place in some…memory Dean assumed. Resting his forehead against Sam's, he continued to talk softly. That's when Sam had opened those beautiful eyes, lids widening in panic. "Easy Sammy!" A full blown panic attack set in, Sam falling limp against Dean and the only thing saving the Winchester from the floor. "I got ya. Breathe alright? I'm here." He whispered into Sam's ear comfortingly.
"Need help?"
"Is he going to be alright?"
"Yeah, just please leave us alone!" Dean snapped, rubbing soothing circles in Sam's back. After a while the youth seemed to calm down, breathing become normal as he tried to unsuccessfully get up. Fingers wrapping in the cloth of Sam's jacket, Dean got off of his knees. "There we go."
Sam kept his head down, hands squeezing the leather jacket. "I…" He didn't know what to say. The pounding in his head made speaking difficult, thoughts slow. The one thing he did realize was that Dean was back.
"Alright, come on. We better get you home." Glancing over his shoulders at the onlookers, he glared, causing them to turn their heads. Facing Sam, he dropped down to ear level. "We are going to talk about this in the car." The younger Winchester tensed, scrambling to get up as Dean heaved him straight.
"I got it." Maybe he could get away before Dean ripped him in two. He just couldn't tell him. Using the walls for support, he quickly made it out of the diner, tears still running down his cheeks. Falling to his knees onto the parking lot he swallowed, feeling vomit contaminating his taste buds. Squeezing his eyes shut he let his contents hit the pavement. It burned his throat, nothing there except for water and acidic juices. Why did he have to go through this? He should have died, not his brother. Just as he was about to let himself fall arms snagged his waist and pulled him backwards so he landed on his butt. Something pressed harshly on his shoulder, Dean's face coming into view as he bent down next to him.
Wrinkles crinkled his forehead, lips tight. "What the heck happened?" He questioned, voice low but full of anger. Sam knew it wasn't because of the embarrassment of his brother puking in public. Still, it scared him.
Wiping his lips, Sam chuckled dryly. "What the hell do you think happened?" Standing, he swayed before getting his footing. Now Dean's own emotions matched the youngest Winchester. "THAT was me freaking out! THAT was because you died Dean! And THAT is why I fucken hate hunting!" Sam screamed, seething. Everything was coming out in one long pull.
Dean stepped back, shocked by his brother's outburst. He didn't expect anger but despair.
"YOU DIED DEAN! DIED AND LEFT ME FOR FOUR LONG FUCKEN MONTHS!" Sam continued to rant, tears freshly falling. "You died….not me." He hissed towards the end, voice almost gone. Stumbling over to a pillar supporting the roof he slammed his body against it, face pressed into cold cement. Hands curled protectively around his jaw, limbs trembling. He didn't care if he looked like a baby. He wanted to die. The emotions tearing him apart were too much. Everything was just too hard to handle.
A few feet away Dean sighed, smiling. His brother was telling him what's wrong, though Dean knew deep down what it was. Still, he knew Sam needed to get it out before rebuilding him again. Walking over, he leaned up to the right of Sam, facing the back of his little brother's head. "I know. And I'm sorry. But I'm here. I'm back. And more importantly, it'll be okay with us." Slipping his arms around Sam's waist, he did the most girlish thing he ever did in his life. He hugged Sam to him, nuzzling his nose into his shoulder. Sam welcomed the affection, turning and burying his face into Dean's neck. "I'm here."
Staring straight ahead, Dean promised he would never leave his brother again.
Thanks everyone for reading and I want to thank Elfmage the most for such nice reviews!!
