Sam woke up to the sound of the impala's tires squealing. The car jerked to a stop. Sam woke up and rubbed his eyes. It had been a fitful sleep induced with lousy heart aching nightmares. It always hurt like a bitch when such dreams came. Turning to his left he looked to see Dean staring at him with a twinge of guilt and concern. However, the moment the concern appeared it vanished, hiding deep behind Dean's stone cold walls.
Carefully schooling his features in a mask of indifference, Dean said, "I am going to get rooms for us."
Something seemed off to Sam. And then it clicked.
"Why are you getting two rooms for us?" Sam asked sitting a bit straighter.
"Why? You got a problem with that? I just want to be alone and it's obvious that you want to be too so…"
Something snapped inside Sam. All his feelings of hurt and being unloved just rushed out and he snapped at Dean.
"Oh so now all of a sudden you want to be alone? I am sorry I must have failed to notice the fact that up till now all these years we have stayed in 2 rooms instead of 1."
"Sam seriously. Stop trying to draw this out more than it should be." with that Dean began to turn towards the motel's office.
"No way Dean. I will draw this out as much as I want to. Tell me exactly why do you feel the need to stay alone? Can't bear me much longer can you?" Sam gave a bitter laugh.
Dean sighed and looked away. Sam had thought Dean would at least protest against the statement but Dean's silence hurt more than his words. Sam suddenly felt as though something huge was crushing his heart. Grief clenched his heart and undiluted fear of abandonment bubbled in his stomach. It must have showed on his face and the next thing Dean said confirmed it.
"I will go get us 1 room. Fine? Honestly you don't have to make a huge issue about it."
Sam sighed tiredly. Thank god Dean agreed to get 1 room because after all of what had happened; Sam didn't think he was ready to be left alone. What did he know that the moment Dean got his chance; Dean would not leave him alone and walk away? After bearing 4 months without Dean, more separation from him would crush him and he knew it.
Sam jarred out of his mind when Dean threw a room key at him and walked ahead with his duffel to the room. Sam stared at his brother's retreating figure and after a moment or two followed him towards the room.
He walked in to see Dean unpacking his duffel. Dean didn't even acknowledge his presence. Grabbing a change of clothes, Dean walked past him to the bathroom without a word. Sam felt so tired of it all.
He hated it when Dean ignored him like this. Right now, all he wanted to do was to shake some sense in his brother, make him understand what he did and why he did. He hated it when Dean got belligerent or ignored him altogether. What wouldn't he give now, just to turn back the wheels and cross the huge distance between them, slice right through all the dust in between and just become the little Sammy he once was?
He wanted to go back in time just to feel Dean's unvoiced love and concern for him, to hear the worry in Dean's voice when something wrong happened, to have Dean mother him when he got hurt, to hear the silent rage in Dean's voice when anyone tried to mess with him, to hear Dean's snarky comments and the oh so affectionate nickname of bitch. Most of all, he wanted to hear Dean call him Sammy once more, love underlying in the name. He missed it all so much. It felt like such a long time since he had felt any of this that his heart ached for them. Was it too much to ask to have someone love him unconditionally despite what he was, was it too much to wish upon all the stars to get those moments back?
Staring at the amulet that once belonged to Dean, increased his angst. More memories came back. Memories of love carved their way into his mind. Sam's heart ached with memories. He didn't realize when exactly he got so caught up in his trip down the memory lane that tear tracks made their way down his cheeks.
Dean stepped out of the bathroom. The whole day had been such a lousy one. And to top it all, Sam had been itching to fight over measly matters. What did it matter if they stayed in one room or two? It's not like Sam enjoyed being around him any longer? So it shouldn't have made such a huge difference right?
Dean walked into the room only to see Sam creating puddles on the bed. Sam sat with his back against the bed frame, his fist closed around something, tears escalating from those wonderful puppy dog eyes that used to break Dean's heart each time. Seeing Sam in such a broken state, made Dean Feel remorseful. Maybe he had been too hard on him.
But then a ghost of Sam's hurtful words floated in and stung Dean's heart. This washed away all the remorse Dean was feeling. The wounds of Sam's actions and words against him, still fresh and raw, did not like being poked at by Sam's tears. Yes it hurt like a mother to see Sam in so much pain but helplessness to do anything about it hurt more. Knowing he couldn't do anything. If this would have been Sammy, the brother Dean had left behind on his downstairs picnic, then Dean would have immediately comforted him. But now that Sammy had changed into Sam, the hardened John Winchester perfect hunter, Dean had no idea how to comfort him. How could he, when Sam kept pushing away?
And Sam wouldn't like to be comforted now either. So why make things more difficult than they already were. And the distance between them was too wide for Dean to cross alone anyway. It was Sam who had pushed him apart and created the distance in the first place. How could he just ignore something as plain as day?
Forcing Sam's tears behind his walls, in a deep corner in his heart, Dean walked over to his bed and sat down. Fixing his gaze on the wall behind Sam, he asked, "You okay?"
Sam's eyes opened and he saw Dean wearing a mask of nonchalance. Not trusting himself to speak without breaking down completely, Sam shook his head. Dean didn't reply. He too nodded his head and turned away. Reaching over himself, Dean shut the light. Lying on his bed, unable to help himself, he whispered to Sam, "Try to get some sleep."
Dean looked over at Sam in the darkness and saw Sam turn his head towards him and nod slightly. He then turned his back towards Dean.
Dean couldn't sleep the entire night. Sam's tears kept coming back to him. When he closed his eyes, an image of a broken Sam immediately projected itself in front of his eyes. Unable to sleep, Dean tossed and turned the entire night. He hated to see his brother in pain and hated it even more to remind himself time over and over again, that it wasn't his brother in there. It was a hunter, hardened, strong and perfect who didn't need to look up to his older brother anymore.
He hated being pushed away like this. All his life, Sam had looked up to him and now being suddenly discarded like a rag doll hurt more than he could tell. It stabbed his heart deeply. Why did he have to be the one to be abandoned each time by each of his family members and by Sam more times than he could count? They never thought about how he felt. But when Sam did the same mistake over and over again, knowing what it did to him, it just hurt more.
Abandonment was a bitch. But this time Sam hadn't just pushed him away, he had practically thrown him out. Out of his life and out of his heart. It hurt to be replaced. That too by a demon bitch who paved the road for his brother to reach hell safely with her screwed up essence.
Betrayal sucked. Replacement sucked. Abandonment sucked. His life sucked to the core. Closing his eyes, Dean soon fell into a troubled sleep filled with horrifying nightmares of his brother burning in hell all thanks to the free ride given to him by the hell bitch.
