The Ballad of Brotherhood
Author's Note; I'm really enjoying writing this. I already have my ending planned out and because it's so...interesting, I plan on having a sequel. Thanks for the reviews!
Dean is on his his second plate of food.
Sam has barely touched his first.
"What's 'a matter?" Dean asks, noting that Sam has not said a word the entire time.
He is so drained. At this time, he would like nothing more than to curl up and sleep. It is too hard to do when all you can think about is...
Don't think about it.
Sam shakes his head, decides to force some food into his system. He needs the energy from somewhere.
"So, I figure we'll head out tomorrow and see what we can find on Mackensie." Dean pushes his food across his plate, shovels some into his mouth. Sam winces at the name and eyes Dean with disgust, clearly confused at how he can be eating so much.
"'Kay." Sam digs his fork into his food, taking in his surroundings. The restraunt is nothing fancy, just a place to sit down. Families go in and out, not a care in the world. Sam feels out of place.
He steals a glance out the window. Streetlights light the sidewalk, people window shop, stare at the stars, still carefree.
And that's when he notices it.
Mackensie. His face is pressed to the window, he looks like hell. His eyes are swollen and puffy, bruised and purpled.
Sam's eyes widen and they meet Mackensie's. He winks at him. Sam wants desperately to get up from the table, chase after him, kill him, hurt him until he's this close to death. He wants him to suffer.
"What is it?" Dean puts his fork down, hands on the table, ready to get up if needed.
"Mackensie." Sam's voice falters. "He was at the window."
And, to no one's suprise, when Dean looks out the window, Mackensie is gone.
Dean turns back to Sam, tells him he's just imagining things, reassures him that he killed him.
"Eat. You haven't touched your food." Dean lowers his head when he says this, mumbles it. He does not want Sam to hear the worry in his voice because it will worry him.
"Dean. I know what I saw." Sam cries out, trying to make his brother realize that he's not crazy. That what he saw was real. But, then again, he cannot even convince himself of this. He gives up and eats. Might as well make Dean happy.
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Sam eases himself into a restless sleep. He has once again found no comfort even in the thresholds of his blankets. He hears Dean snoring and wishes he could be where he is. Asleep.
"I will find you Sam. I am not dead. You know I am not dead." Mackensie is at his side, a knife in his hand. He lifts it and thrusts it into Sam's side. He quivers, shakes, moans.
The scream dies at his lips.
Sam wakes up in an instant, his whole body trembling. He sees Dean rush from his bed and his hands are steadying Sam's shoulders before he can open his eyes.
Pained sobs overtake his body and he cannot help but clutch at his brother's shirt. Dean reluctantly presses Sam's shaking body to his, rubbing his back in small circles.
"Sssh. It's okay, Sammy." He whispers in his ear. Sam has definitely been on-edge. But he should have noticed he was this stressed out. He can feel Sam's muscles tense up beneath his fingertips.
"I keep seeing him everywhere." Sam cries out, tries to relax under the familiar touch, but he can't. Because he still catches glimses of Mackensie in the dark.
Dean rubs his brother's back until he hears his breathing even out. He holds him an extra second.
"You okay?"
Sam sniffs, wipes his tears, relaxes in his brother's hold.
"I'll be okay. I just need time."
Dean nods, and Sam is so grateful that he understands. "I can do that."
Dean lays in bed with Sam, despite how uncomfortable he feels. He does not want to be in this chick-flick moment, but Sam sleeps better when Dean is near. And he desperately needs sleep.
It overtakes him quickly, and the rise and fall of his chest pushes Dean into his own deep sleep.
Sam awakes deep into the night from another nightmare and finds Dean is already awake. Apparently, Sam was screaming again.
"He's trying to communicate with me, Dean. He's not dead." Sam forces these words out, his throat dry.
Dean rests a hand on his shoulder, eases Sam back into sleep. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. You need sleep."
Sam curls up close to Dean, his breath comes out in short puffs against Dean's chest.
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They wake up in the morning, and immediately Sam wants to talk about his nightmare. Dean groans, but presses the subject.
Sam goes on to tell how Mackensie talked to him.
"So you're telling me that Mackensie is talking to you in your dreams?" Dean blurts out.
"Nightmares." Sam corrects him.
"Okay. Well, I'll go look around for him tonight."
Sam shakes his head very quickly, before Dean is even finished talking.
"I don't want you to leave me alone."
The request is slight, yet so intense. It breaks Dean's heart. He cannot stand to his little brother this upset. After all he has been through. He could be afraid to fight, to hunt, to be hurt, to be beaten. But no, of all things, he is afraid to be without Dean. And it makes Dean realize how much Sam really loves him.
Dean would give anything in this world for Sam, and Sam knows it. But Dean never realized just how much he means to someone. Sammy...he really loves him. And this thought makes Dean want to kill this bastard even more for laying a hand on him.
"Fine. We'll go together." It is going to be rough either way. If what Sam says is true, he is going to be in danger whether he is alone, or with Dean prowling the streets. Dean supposes it is safer this way. He knows they would both worry themselves sick if Sam was here at the motel.
Sam nods. He gets up to go to the bathroom, change his clothes, comes back to find Dean missing.
"Dean?"
Even after Dean comforted him last night, he still fears the times when Dean is not in sight, not at his side.
"Dean!" He calls out again, louder this time, urges himself to not sound so goddamn worried. His heartrate increases, his hands start to tremble, he starts feeling dizzy...
"Everything alright?" Dean appears with a bottle of water in his hand, guzzles a sip before taking in his brother's appearance.
"You are gonna shower, right?" Dean flashes a grin, cocks an eyebrow.
Sam clears his throat. "'Course."
Dean pauses, hesitant to make his move into chick-flick territory.
He moves close to his brother. He knows that Sam is scared. He knows that he is far from ready to face this, yet he does, and for that reason, Dean is proud.
"Sammy." Dean starts, "I'm gonna be here to take care of you forever."
Sam swallows thickly, the fear really kicking in.
Forever isn't long enough.
TBC...