Chapter 10 – Torn

Summary: What if Dean had not been chosen by Roy Le Grange?

A/N: According to the air date of this episode, Faith would have taken place around the time of Dean's birthday. I can't imagine anything more devastating than a last birthday and this chapter is about that.

Sam's angst continues, including his anger at John Winchester. Well, in all honesty that's me talking because I couldn't comprehend how John never contacted his sons during Faith.

This chapter is unbetaed so I'll take credit for all errors.

Many thanks to the readers, followers and especially the reviewers.

A special shout out to Ghanaperu and ncsupnatfan for their continued support. You make my muse very happy.

In case you didn't know, I don't own anything related to Supernatural.

Enjoy

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Sam was torn.

A part of him wanted to get as far away from this place as possible and a part of him wanted to stay put. On the one hand, leaving meant letting go of his fractured hope and admitting failure. On the other, staying meant having to watch someone else get healed come Sunday. In the end, all that mattered was what Dean wanted. So Sam gave in, swallowed his pride and offered to drive off to look for dad.

Except it wasn't what his brother wanted. Not anymore.

Dean's eyes flicked away uneasily as he spewed back Sam's own arguments about not knowing where dad was and what good would it do if they drove off in the wrong direction. But Sam knew those weren't the real reasons and it shouldn't have hurt so much, but it did and the sting of the refusal gnawed at his insides.

Sam really didn't mean to be ungrateful. After all, she was the only reason his brother ate, or took his pills, or rested. Dean didn't do any of that for him.

But there was more to it than that. There was an unspoken complicity, something entwining Dean and Layla closer together while pushing Sam away. He didn't miss how Dean sought her out, how he waited until she was close enough to place her hand on his elbow before he attempted to get up or step forward. It was as if her mere presence gave him strength and Dean wanted her around even when his body gave out and he couldn't keep his eyes open. He allowed her to watch over him, this from the man who slept with a knife under his pillow, who never let his guard down not even in his sleep. Dean Winchester didn't give away that kind of trust. Until now.

Sam could admit she'd earned it. She looked out for Dean, put his needs first but more importantly, she understood how to play their secret game of give and take. Sam had watched her do it at the diner. Watched how she winked at Dean then surprised him by ordering a bacon double cheeseburger with extra onions. Dean wasn't hungry but Layla was hoping a small bit of her burger would stimulate his appetite. She deftly cut it into bite sized pieces and slid a few over to Dean who instantly abandoned the soup Sam had ordered for him. His brother picked up the cheeseburger and nibbled on it, a satisfied grin gracing his lips as he savoured his favourite meal. The contented look on Dean's face was worth the betrayal.

When they walked back to the motel, Sam slowed his pace, allowing them some distance. He was in no rush to hover over his brother knowing how much Dean hated that. His brother pressed his hand lightly to Layla's back, gently guiding her and in turn, Layla moved in closer, allowing Dean to lean his shoulder into her, adding her support to his unsteady steps. A melancholic smile spread on Sam's face because Dean wasn't turning on the charm for Layla, in fact it was the other way around; Dean was the one who was totally charmed by this petite woman. It was heartbreaking to watch, knowing in his other life Dean would have never found this, that only in dying could his brother let go and accept this gift.

So when Dean stopped in front of the Impala and asked whether she wanted to take Baby out for a spin, Sam shouldn't have been surprised. But he was because this was his brother's most prized possession, the thing he loved almost as much as his family, and he was entrusting it to her. Sam couldn't help but recall how this was exactly the way he had felt about Jess, wanting to share everything with her. Then he watched the red tail lights of the Impala recede, taking his brother further away, leaving him alone with his thoughts about tomorrow.

Tomorrow. It wasn't just another day. None of them were. But tomorrow...Sam didn't trust his heart to know what Dean wanted and whether he should ignore the day or celebrate it. He realized that he had no choice but to put his faith in Layla, to ask her what she thought even while he wished he didn't have to. He couldn't reconcile the fact that she was the best thing to happen to his brother while at the same time the worst thing to happen to him. Sam struggled to comprehend it all, tried not to feel ungrateful but he didn't know whether he hated her for the way she made him feel, or himself for feeling this way.

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Growing up Dean wished he could just skip over this whole day. He didn't need reminding that there'd be no party or friends over. No mom to send cupcakes to school, no one to acknowledge his birthday until Sammy got older. For the most part, he wanted the day to fade away like the one before, and it usually did. But not this time.

So, when Layla told him of Sam's plan, he was secretly grateful even as he fought with the idea it might turn into some epic Hallmark, chick flick last birthday moment. Dean didn't want that, wouldn't be able to handle it. He was having a hard enough time holding himself together whenever he caught a glimpse of his brother's heartbroken face. The only way to keep those feelings at bay was by doing what he had always done, what had always worked; he showed no weakness, continued to play the part of the all-knowing big brother, and refused Sam's help.

But when Layla noticed Dean's frown, she gave him a stern look, made him promise to act surprised and to give Sam his victory. Dean's throat closed tight at her protectiveness for his little brother and he barely managed a nod.

The day was finally here. Dean pretended to be preoccupied with the bucket list notepad while Layla and his brother were hunched over something in the kitchen. They both jumped back as a glittering spray of fire shot out in all directions. Dean grinned remembering how much his little brother loved those damn sparklers.

"Happy Birthday to you…" Layla sang. "Happy Birthday to youuuuu."

She waved the sparklers creating glittering patterns. Sam cut the lights and hung back, hiding behind Layla, using her as protection. She turned, glared at Sam who joined in the signing, his voice shaky and low. He was off tune and out of sync like he'd been for the last little while and he had a hard time getting the words past his lips. He couldn't tear his eyes away as the sparklers flickered like thousands of tiny stars, illuminating Dean's pale moon face. Sam's voice dropped off even as he wished this could go on forever, or at least a little bit longer. But it didn't. There was a hiss, and a shimmer, and finally one last brilliant shower of light. And then just like that, it was over. There was nothing but a dark emptiness left behind.

Sam quickly flicked on the lights, searching for and finding Dean staring back. His big brother's eyes were all knowing, reading what Sam had been thinking and they screamed back, 'It's okay. I'm still here. I'm right here.'

But for how long, Sam wondered then swallowed down the taste of his own heart.

Layla broke the heavy silence. "Sam, don't you have something you'd like to show Dean?"

Sam's body unfroze. He nodded then blinked rapidly while his hands fumbled to open the dessert box on the table.

"It better be pie," Dean muttered in mock annoyance, playing his part so his little brother wouldn't fall apart.

It took a couple of seconds, but Sam cleared his throat and took the bait. "Of course, jerk." He handled the box carefully, walking over to show Dean. "Got your favourites," he added and hoped his brother would actually eat some.

Dean's eyes widened. This was unlike any pie he had ever seen; it was half apple and half cherry, a work of pure genius. He had no clue how Sam had pulled this off.

Layla had gone to fetch the colourful paper plates decorated in birthday wishes in the kitchen. "It was his idea," she said over her shoulder as if she had read his mind.

Dean caught a glimpse of the eagerness on Sam's face. His little brother was five years old again, looking for his approval. He almost reached up to ruffle the shaggy hair and tell him 'good job, Sammy'. But he didn't because that would break him wide open. He kept staring at the pie. It was just easier to stare at the pie.

"Cut me a slice," Dean croaked. "No wait..."

Sam deflated.

"Make that…one of each." Dean's eyes remained low. He never saw the smile that bloomed on his brother's face.

Sam sliced up two huge pieces for his brother, one for Layla and lastly himself. Layla nudged him towards the couch and Sam sat next to Dean.

"Well if that doesn't scream picture perfect moment, I don't know what does." Layla grabbed her phone, waved her hand at those two so they would sit closer. Then just as she was about to snap, Dean threw his arm around his little brother's shoulder while Sam looked over at him with a crooked smile on his face. It was the image Layla captured.

She stepped back, pretending to fiddle with the controls of the phone, leaving the brothers alone.

Sam turned into his big brother, wove one arm behind him, holding him in a half hug. Dean stiffened, then relaxed and Sam held him closer. "Happy Birthday, Dean." It was whispered into his brother's neck.

Dean nodded then let go. Layla returned and sat across from them. She tried to make small talk but Dean remained silent, twirling his fork aimlessly, fidgeting uncomfortably and never quite finding an accommodating spot. He looked tired and worn out and had only taken one bite of pie while Sam and Layla finished theirs.

Sam knew his brother wouldn't last much longer and he really wanted to give him his gift. "I got you something."

Dean looked up in surprise. He wasn't expecting anything, after all what do you get the man that won't be alive in a few weeks? Sam handed him a package. It was wrapped with honest to goodness wrapping paper and not the standard brown paper bag. His brother had gone all out and Dean carefully tore it open revealing a boxed DVD.

He turned it over and read the title. "Chuck Norris," he mumbled lowly.

Sam couldn't tell if he was happy or not. "Thought we could, you know…we could watch them together." Sam's eyes shone eagerly.

Dean focused on his gift. "Thanks, Sammy. I love it." What he meant was, I love you but he couldn't bring himself to say it like that.

Sam knew it was the best Dean could do but he couldn't let it go, wanting his big brother to know how much he meant to him. "You know, when we were growing up, I always thought there was one person who could take Chuck Norris."

Dean smiled wanly. "Yeah, dad." His old man was the toughest of the tough and John Winchester could whoop anyone's ass.

Sam stared back disbelievingly. "No, you."

The pain in Dean's chest was unbearable. All he could do was squeak out one word, "Sammy," before he turned away in shame.

Something in Sam's throat constricted at the lost look on his brother's face. Dean shouldn't doubt himself, should never feel like he wasn't good enough. There was only one person to blame for that – dad. Even when he wasn't around, dad could ruin a good thing.

Sam wanted to yell because John Winchester was nowhere to be found, hadn't called once since this all went down, and had all but abandoned his sons. Sam shouldn't have been surprised; it was his old man's modus operandi but he stupidly thought this time might be different. What kind of father wouldn't drop everything to be with his dying son? Sam knew; the kind whose quest for revenge was more important than his own child and Sam understood why Dean never put himself ahead of anything or anyone when dad never did.

Dean didn't have the luxury to mull over such thoughts. He was putting all of his efforts into trying to breathe, forcefully pulling air into his lungs. Sam reached out, but his brother made a small noise then shoved his hands away. He was no superhero. He was useless, broken and he didn't want his brother to see him like this.

Sam's anger was building by the second and he couldn't stay when his fury was about to unleash. "I need some air," he rasped, then turned to Layla, his eyes begging her to take care of Dean before striding to the door and letting himself out.

A whoosh of air followed Sam's departure, it pulled Layla towards Dean. She placed her hand on his shoulder to steady him. Even the grey tinge had drained from his face and it worried her. She eased him back into the couch, smoothed his brow and tried to quell his doubts.

"He's just outside. He'll be back."

But the familiar fear in Dean's gut was roaring, yelling at him that Sam was leaving. "Go," he huffed, wanting her to chase after his little brother.

"You alright?" she asked.

Dean nodded but she didn't quite believe his eyes and she stayed. Dean clutched at her hand. He was scared, scared for his brother and afraid if he let go, she would disappear as well.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered as she sat next to him and held on tighter. She waited him out until the wheezing sound in his chest eased and the pain lines around his eyes diminished.

"You okay?"

He gazed at her and breathed, "Okay." This time it was the truth.

She smiled lightly then left to look for Sam.

TBC…