A.N. Warning: Turning the angst levels up to Defcon 1. Alert, alert, alert...
CHAPTER SEVEN
o-o-o
It was weird for both of them, staying in the same motel room but heading for separate rooms, instead of just separate beds. In response, and in part as reassurance for each other and themselves that it was no big deal, both brothers threw comments back and forth about the other one's supposed sleeping habits which they claimed they wouldn't miss that night. And yet, as they simultaneously closed their own bedroom doors, they both stopped, pausing to look around their individual rooms.
...
Dean recalled the countless times that he was left to hunt alone, Sam being at Stanford and his dad being...who knew where? Sam, looking around at his space, also drifted back to his time at Stanford and away from his family. He wondered what the friends he had made there would be doing right now? What he himself would have been doing, and whether there would ever come a day when he would have the chance to be part of university life again? Inevitably, as was always the way when he thought of Stanford, he thoughts turned to Jess. His memory of her these days most often conjured up the same sickening image of the woman he loved burning alive, held up against the ceiling by demonic forces. Sam had unknowingly laid on the bed, directly beneath where Jess was held. The horror of that scene when he opened his eyes would never leave him, tattooed forever in his conscience as the image was. Nor would the knowledge that he had been unable to do anything to save her.
...
Since then, it didn't matter how many people he had saved as a hunter, their numbers could never make up for the death of the woman he loved, and who he believed he had failed. Dean hunted because that was his life. It was his profession, it was who Dean was. Sam, however, was hunting because he was driven by the very same thing that had driven John Winchester...revenge. The desire to kill the Yellow Eyed Demon, and by doing so, avenge the death of the mother he didn't remember, the woman he had loved and, now, his father.
...
Sam sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, as though trying to physically erase the image of Jess from his mind. He needed to be able to focus on something else, push those images back into their box, deep inside of him. Otherwise, Sam knew, his sleep would be filled with nightmares. He reached for his laptop, lifting it from the bedside cabinet it had been left on. Opening it, he typed in Lockwood Asylum.
...
Dean didn't bother to undress, he simply laid down on top of the bed, his hands resting on his chest. He struggled to settle in the quiet of the room, it was
unnatural. He was surprised to find how much he missed the sounds of his brother settling down to sleep. The soft, reassuring sound of Sam's breathing, how it altered when Sam finally fell to sleep, the occasional sound of his brother changing his position. These sounds were Dean's lullaby, his assurance that things were ok, the noises that kept the monsters from crawling under Dean's bed. Without the comfort of those noises to focus on, Dean's mind was left to wander, and wander it did. Straight back to the fierce burden of the words whispered to him by his father whilst Dean lay in the hospital bed. John Winchester's last goodbye to the son who worshipped him. Way to go dad. You sure knew how to make an exit man. Drop the bomb, shred the instruction manual and run. Leave me alone, high and dry, trying to defuse it. Thanks for that...You bastard!
...
Suddenly Dean was awake. At first he was surprised that he had fallen asleep in the first place, then he wondered what had woken him so quickly? He wasn't left wondering for long. The sound was all too familiar, whimpers of distress, half formed sobs, a soft voice repeating No. Sam was having a nightmare. Dean rolled over and stared at the wall between them, straight away irritated at it's presence. He would usually watch Sam, waiting to see if his brother was going to settle again, or whether Sam's dream was bad enough for Dean to need to wake him, and make the nightmare stop. It was something Dean had been doing for his brother for years, ever since Sammy was a young boy who suddenly found out that monsters exist, and that his family didn't hide from them; his family went looking for them and, quite often, they would come looking for him and his family. Dean didn't know it, but it was from then, the moment he found out the things in his nightmares were real, that Sam had begun to wonder if he could ever get out, and be able to be like the other kids he met in each new school the brothers were enrolled at. Dean heard his brother's voice again.
"Jess, Jess...I'm so sorry...Wait..."
Now knowing what it was that Sam was dreaming about, Dean got up from his own bed, and headed for his brother's room.
...
Dean quietly stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind him. His eyes already having adjusted to the dark, he could see Sam, dressed in his sleep joggers, sprawled at an angle across the bed, laying face down. His bedcovers were in a tangled heap on the floor where, Dean guessed, Sam had kicked them whilst he dreamt. Sam rolled over and began muttering again as Dean crossed to the side of his bed.
"Save her...Havta save..."
Keeping himself as much out of harm's way as he could, Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"Sam, Sammy. It's Dean. Wake up Sam. C'mon. It's just a dream Sammy..."
Throwing Dean's hand off, Sam sat bolt upright with a gasp. Dean immediately moved into Sam's line of sight.
"S'ok Sammy, calm down, you're ok. Bad dream is all, you with me?"
Rubbing a hand over his face, Sam nodded.
"Yeah..Yeah. M'ok...Crap!"
Dean sat down on the edge of his brother's bed.
"Bad one huh?"
Again Sam nodded.
"Yeah...Jess..Y'know?"
"I know...I guess dad dying is bound to trigger other stuff, other bad memories."
Sam looked at Dean curiously.
"You been having nightmares too?"
With a sad, half smile Dean shook his head.
"Nah...don't think so. I'm sure I will at some point. First though...I think I have to believe he's gone, an' I'm still struggling with that one Sammy. I can't stop myself from thinking he's still out there, hunting things...Sam...I've never thought he was perfect, you know? I mean, the man let you..us..down countless times, as kids and as adults. He wasn't there so many times when we needed him, didn't even answer when we rang. He forgot birthdays, stayed away at Christmas without so much as a phone call to say how you both doin' and made too many promises that he didn't keep; but...I still loved the guy Sammy, despite everything."
Dean's face was turned towards the window, his eyes held a distant stare as his features slowly grew clearer and sharper as the dawn gradually began to chase away the night. Not wanting Dean to stop talking, Sam stayed silent, and waited.
"I dunno why I've always stayed so loyal to him Sammy...Huh!...Maybe I was hoping that if I just stayed loyal, obeyed, and carried on loving him; maybe one day he just might tell me he was proud to have me for a son. I guess that's all I ever really wanted from him, why I stood up for him and, why I kept forgiving him...Course, there's one thing that I can never forgive him for, and that's what he said to you, that night you walked out and left us to go to Stanford. I blamed him Sam...We didn't talk for days after you'd gone...I think he was expecting me to go too. Then, we argued. We fought each other, took our anger out on each other. I know it scared him...Whenever he looked at me after that fight...Well...I think it terrified him, seeing what he was capable of. That's when him and me separated, when he walked away and left me to hunt on my own. Said it was to keep me safe. Dunno anymore though if he meant from the Yellow eyed Demon, or from him..."
...
Sam moved closer to his brother, wanting to comfort him.
"Dean...I..."
Dean finally turned to look at Sam.
"Please Sammy, don't say you're sorry. It really wasn't your fault. It was mine. I should've held things together, should've backed you up, made Dad see how good it was that you had the opportunity to be something different, something better. I've let you both down Sam, you and dad."
Sam opened his mouth to protest, to try to make Dean see sense, but Dean quickly stood up. Turning his back on Sam, he headed for the doorway.
"I'm tired Sammy. I'm goin' to try for a couple more hours sleep. Maybe you should too? G'night."
There was nothing Sam could do, except stare after his brother as Dean left, softly closing the door to Sam's bedroom behind him.
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A.N. Is everybody feeling happy?;p
Chick xxx
