I LOVE YOU GUYS AS MUCH AS I LOVE MY PET FISH FLUFFY!!!!!!!!
P.S- I do not have a fish =O
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I did I would have a heart attack and die….. =]
P.S.- got a poll for you peeps on my profile page!!!
Sam slowly awoke, the sunlight cutting through the window and into the motel room. He raised an arm above his face, succeeding in blocking most of the sun's harmful rays. The recollections of last night raced through his mind. He had fallen asleep in Dean's lap, but now all he felt were the grungy sheets he lay on. Still groggy from sleep, his hand searched for his brother, coming up empty.
Now fully awake, he looked around the small room, finding Dean seated at a small table, sipping a cup of coffee alongside John, who was also gulping down his black coffee. Dean seemed in a trance, staring at a dark stain on the wall, completely oblivious to Sam's questioning stare. He probably blames himself. Like he always does.
Sam heaved a sigh as he carefully made his way off the bed. Dean seemed to notice the movement in his peripheral vision. He set his cup down, the coffee spilling out with a splash as he hurriedly threw it on the table. He ran over to Sam protectively.
Sam saw Dean run frantically in his direction and he couldn't help but sigh, a small frown appearing on his lips.
"Dean, I'm fine, seriously."
Dean didn't seem to hear as he eased Sam back onto the bed, tousling his hair playfully. Sam let out a small pout, crossing his hands over his chest. Dean's smile seemed to light the whole room as he sat down on the bed beside him. Sam couldn't help it as a smile of his own grazed his lips. How Dean was able to do that, he would never know.
"How you feelin', Sammy?"
Sam rolled his eyes dramatically.
"I'm fine, Dean. Stop worrying about me. I swear, you sound like a nagging old lady sometimes."
Sam made yet another attempt to get up off the bed. Dean stood up with him, keeping a safe distance, ready if Sam fell. Sam hissed as he straightened into a standing position, the pain in his joints nearly unbearable. He saw a flash of sadness arise on Dean's face but he ignored it.
An uncomfortable, even gaunche, silence situated itself around the room.
"Damn, I'm starving. Let's get something to eat."
Truth be told, he wasn't really hungry, but the silence was too much to bear right now. He wanted to take his mind of the pained eyes Dean held now. It hurt him more than he would like to admit, the sheer pity in his eyes pleading with him.
Dean seemed to jump at the idea, already grabbing his jacket off the bed and meeting up beside Sam. Sam decided against changing clothes, whether he was just too exhausted to do so he wasn't sure. He had just slept for God only knows how long, so why would he be tired?
He shook it off, settling on grabbing his hoodie. The subtle movements nearly made him lose his balance, causing Dean to just about dive for Sam's small waist. Dean kept a firm grip on his waist, keeping him on his feet as he maintained his composure. Once equilibrium was found, he gave Dean a sheepish smile.
"Whoops."
Dean just rolled his eyes melodramatically, before getting a serious look on his face.
"You sure you wanna go? I can just bring something home."
"I'm sure. I just lose my balance. I'm good."
Dean seemed hesitant, but let it go.
"Dad, you coming with?" He asked, turning his head in the direction of the older man. John was now lost in a demonology book, far to in depth it to get a coherent answer. John just waved a hand, dismissing them. Dean nodded. "I'll just get you a Big Mac and soda" he muttered under his breath.
He shrugged on his jacket, and led Sam outside, keeping a hand on his forearm at al times. Though it annoyed Sam to no end, he said nothing.
He slipped into the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean finally being forced to let go of him as he headed to the driver's seat. Sam began pulling on his hoodie as Dean entered the car. Sam's injuries seemed to limit him all the more. Dean pulled the hoodie over his head, much to Sam's dismay. Sam managed to get his arms through the sleeves without assistance, which made him feel an iota bit more independent. Dean cranked up the car and headed out of the parking lot, driving to a nearby Burger King.
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the small fast food place as Dean parking the beloved Impala. Before he could move around to Sam's side of the car, he opened the passenger door, inching his way out. By the time Sam was fully out of the car, Dean had appeared, ready to help him. Sam offered a victorious grin, Dean huffing in return.
They walked in silence into Burger King.
Sam began to feel nervous as they stood in line to order. Why was he feeling so nervous all of a sudden? There was nothing to be nervous about; these people were just regular, everyday inhabitants. He was beginning to feel extremely insecure as he watched the people milling around, strolling around rather frantically.
Was one of them out to get him?
It felt like bugs were beginning to go through the cracks in his skin, sliding under his epidermis. He began scratching at his arms furiously, attempting to free himself from these torturous insects.
Two strong hands gripped his own, stopping any further movement. He looked over to where Dean stood, his eyes full of confusion and grief. Anguish took hold of Sam, instantly washing away the bugs and replacing them with knives to the heart. He had been worrying Dean so much lately. He had put him through enough to last a life time, and this is how he repays him? His only brother?
Dean lets go of Sam's small wrists, ushering them over to a nearby table. The inhabitants of the table had to have left recently, for the crumbs on and around the table were ludicrously disgusting. It didn't seem Sam noticed.
"What's wrong, little guy?"
Sam ducked his head from the older man's gaze. He didn't know what to say. In truth, he didn't know himself what was wrong. Were the past events getting to him? Was he going crazy?
The bugs under his skin came back, but he ignored them as well as he could manage, periodically scratching at his arms and neck. He didn't need to worry Dean more than he already had.
Sam began pondering what he was going to say, making sure to say it right. A woman passed by their table and Sam noticeably stiffened. She seemed to have a quizzical look on her demeanor as he watched him but said nothing. She passed by them as she reached a group of her friends at a larger table in the back corner.
Sam let out a sigh of relief, his back arching from the reprieve he felt. Wait. What? Why was he feeling hysterical with contentment that the woman went by? He didn't even know her.
Sam's own hysteria was beginning to scare himself.
He backed further into his chair, doing little to reduce himself as a big, burly man walked into the building. The man had shoulder-length, jet-black hair. His face was gruesome, consisting of an eye-brow, nose piercing, and a permanent grimace. He wore a muscle-shirt, which was used for just that. His forearms were big and muscular, the contours of each muscle visibly seen. On his right arm, he had a long tattoo in the shape of a long sword covered in blood.
He entered Sam's now massive bubble, crossing the threshold of his personal space, making the hairs on his neck spring up. What if he wanted to beat Sam up too? Dean was strong but he may not even feel the need to stick up for Sam against this extremely well-built man. He could probably smash a fist into the wall, doing so much damage as to shattering the entire wall.
"I don't know. It feels like…like I'm afraid of people" Sam said, shivering with each word.
Sam had finally answered Dean's question and, by now, Dean had probably already forgotten his own question. He didn't appear perplexed, though, seeing as he probably noticed Sam's phobia for people a while nodded in understanding.
"Do you wanna stay in the car?
The question seemed simple enough, but there was a deep meaning when read between the lines. Dean cared for him, and didn't want to see him hurt. Sam's heart welled with pride, but disappeared almost instantaneously, a sense of shame now filling his gut. He was weak. He couldn't handle something as simple as walking into a building full of people. Not demons, people.
Dean seemed aware of Sam's inner turmoil. He let him dwell in his thoughts, and stood up. He walked over to a cashier, and ordered a large quantity of food, most of which belonging to Dean. He didn't think Sam would eat much at the moment, but wanted to be fully prepared the moment he got even vaguely famished.
He picked up his food moments later and headed back to their table, seeing Sam in the same state he had left him.
-----O-----
Sam was faintly aware of Dean's absence as he sat, mulling over all his limitations. There were a lot.
Why wasn't he more like Dean? The both of them were trained in the same manner growing up, their dad treating them with the same hostility when it came to training. When had it all gone wrong? When had he become the weak, scrawny little kid he was presently? In the past, Dean used to comment on how well he had done in training. Was he saying that to make him feel better, or did he genuinely mean it?
------------------------
HOPE U LIKED IT! Ended VERY abruptly…sorry about that. didn't have time to finish up that thought but decided to post it anyway. I'll get in next chapter soon. The end is almost near!!
I would love u for this lifetime and the next if you went and checked out my other stories!! You might like one, if not both!! =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =) =)
P.S.- I'm a maniac with polls!!! Please take the time to answer it! This one is asking you if you like this story!! I HAVE to know!!!!!!
REVIEW OR BEWARE THE WRATH OF THE FINGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Review are like fuel! The more you have the farther you get!!
