A/N! Hello to you all! I hope you're all doing fine, and that you're happy and healthy! So, here is chapter 21, which is kind of... Um way too long. Yeah, I know, but it couldn't be broken in two, for the flow would be messed up as well. Next time, I promise I'll make the chapter shorter. Now, many of you tell me that you cry while reading this...
God I'm so sorry, I never wanted to make you cry... :( But I have to warn you, if you cried on previous chapters, I don't know what's going to happen here, because I cried while typing this chapter...
But, rest assured, things will get better for our boys from the next chapter! And just so you know, this story is slowly, but surely, heading towards the end. I don't know the exact number of chapters left (ok 4 at least, but after that, I'm not sure). So, know that the story will end well, with our boys- Woops! Spoilers! :) Okay, so keep in mind that it will end well!
Here, I should say a HUGE thank you to my beta reader, GypsyPriestess, for all her help and for all her encouragment! She is just awesome! :) Go check her out, her stories are just great!
Oh, and as always, I would like to thank you, all of you, for all your comments, favorites, follows, and for reading this! Hope that you will enjoy! A/N!
NOW
"You know, I really didn't need your sorry ass to come with me." Dean said, as his fingers tightened their hold around the wheel of the Impala. "You need help Dean, this is a freaking shape shifter, for the love of God!" Came the answer from his side, as Sam let the book he was reading hit his lap and glanced over his shoulder at his brother. "According to you, not dad." The green eyed man replied, filling his voice with irony. Sam let out a long, silent sigh and let his head rest on the window, avoiding his brother's gaze. "Besides... Why did you even wanted to come? In less than one month you will be out of here and you'll never hunt again, as you so triumphantly declare." The middle Winchester said, irony masking the hurt in his voice.
"Because you need help, that's why-" "Dad said-" "Well, I don't care what he said. You can't face a freaking sifter all by yourself Dean." "Right..." The older man muttered, speeding up the car, making Sam's head hit the window. "Right, how could I forget that, you never care what dad says." Dean continued, fixing his emerald eyes on the road ahead of him. "And why care, it's not you, who's going to be stuck with him." The older man shot back, betting that his words would hurt his brother. Well, a long time ago, they would for sure. But now? Now, Dean wasn't so sure... No, he wasn't sure at all, for he felt as though he didn't know his brother anymore.
"You. Need. Help." Sam stated, leaving no room for an argument. He then let his head lean on the window even more, seeking a cool spot on it. His eyes wandered, taking in, the gray asphalt, which seemed to be spreading on an on, like an endless river, and the houses near the road, houses bathed on the morning sun, which was illuminating everything it touched.
Yes, houses bathed in the sun, for now, summer was marching towards its end. It was the twentieth of August, to be precise, and as the clock was striking ten in the morning, a black 67' Impala was tearing the asphalt in half, heading from Missouri towards Illinois, carrying with her, yes, with her, for that car was a female, Sam and Dean Winchester. Yes, Sam Winchester, who, despite his father's threats, had joined his brother on that hunt, for he couldn't bear the thought that Dean would need help and he wouldn't be there to assist him. Sam Winchester, who for almost four and a half months now, had been playing his role, keeping his brother at arms length, in order to protect him.
But the car also carried Dean, whose suffering was never-ending, for he was unaware of what his brother had done all those months ago in order for him not to lose his father. So, the only one who knew the exact amount of pain and suffering Sam, but more importantly, Dean, was enduring, was this car. Countless were the nights, in which Dean had either drunk, or cried himself to sleep, right there, in that car. Countless were the nights, in which those leather seats had acted as a loving embrace for the green eyed man, gathering up his pieces, offering him a safe haven to pass the night. Yes, this car, knew it all...
"You shouldn't have come... Besides, you were sick until two days ago, you still have a mild fever from time to time." "I am fine Dean, don't worry, I assure you that you won't have to stay in the motel room during the night, you can go wherever you want to." Sam declared, huffing in annoyance, even though, deep down, he knew that he was still sick. "You shouldn't have come..." Dean repeated, more to himself rather than his brother, grabbing the wheel of the car for dear life. Sam heard Dean's muffled whisper, but chose to ignore it and focused on the scenery all around him. It was the best he could do, in order to not betray his act, which he had, so hard, tried to maintain.
And as the car roared once again, Sam's mind traveled, through an all too familiar path, to that night, when he and Dean broke up. That night, on Bobby's house, when Sam delivered one hell of an act... An act, which broke Dean's heart, into so many pieces, that Sam was sure, it could never be whole again...
Bobby's house, April 4, late at night...
"Dean... sit down for a while, I want us to talk." "What is it you want to say to me Sam? You want to explain why you said all those things in the yard, two weeks ago, and what is it, that you have been hiding ever since that night? Or, maybe, you want to explain to me, why we haven't talked more than two hours in two weeks... Without lying through your ass this time." Dean whispered.
Sam bit the inside of his cheek so hard he felt the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. "Dean... I... I want... I want us to break up. I want us to end this relationship we have... For good this time." Sam managed to say, and saw Dean's face hardening...
For a few seconds, the older man remained still, with his hands hooked on each side of his brother's face, their hold preventing it from bowing down. He seemed to be unable to let Sam go, and indeed, unable he was... For something deep inside of him, was screaming, that as soon as he would let Sam go, he would never, find him again. The very next second however, Dean pulled himself backwards almost forcibly, as though electricity had hit him, his steps small, unsteady. He turned his back on Sam, who hadn't moved an inch from the spot he was standing, and headed towards Bobby's desk.
Sam's hazel eyes followed him, and were not surprised, when Dean opened a bottle of Whiskey, pouring a generous amount of the hot brown liquor in a glass. "Dean, let me-" "It took you long enough..." Dean spoke, cutting Sam off, his eyes fixed on the window, his back turned on Sam. "What, what do you mean, I don't understand-" "Right, you don't understand..." Dean muttered, voice poisonous. The younger man swallowed hard as he saw his brother bringing the glass to his lips, emptying its fiery content in one, swift move. "You don't understand..." he repeated through clenched teeth, tightening his hold around the glass, which was on the verge of breaking.
"Dean... Let me explain why I... Want us to break up." Sam said, fixing his eyes on his brother's now, stiff back. "Explain... You want to explain... Explain what Sam? Explain what? That for two whole weeks you've barely spoken to me? That you've drawn yourself as far away as possible? Or, maybe you want to explain to me-" "I needed time to think, Dean, I told you that I needed to think, if what we have... could work-" "Oh yeah, and you've been thinking about it, while messing around with that... Whatever her name was. Great Sam, just great!" Dean said, raising his voice. "But let us hear your... explanations." He continued, the hurt in his voice audible.
"Her name was Ellie, and I wasn't messing with her, we didn't have sex or anything-" "You said that you would explain the reasons why you want us... To finish what we have. So get to the point." Dean declared, grabbing the sink with his free hand, in an attempt to hide its shaking. "Dean... I can't do this, I just, can't. You have to understand, dad has finally agreed to let me go, so for the first time since... forever, I get a chance to have a normal life. You have to understand..." Sam muttered, but his voice fainted and his eyes blurred.
"You told me, a few days ago, that you don't mind what other people would have to say about us, about our relationship." Dean said, voice surprisingly calm. He then moved from where he was standing, and headed towards Bobby's desk, grabbing the bottle of Whiskey, before returning to his spot, right over the sink. "And I stand by that Dean, I don't care about other people, but dad isn't some random guy, and if he finds out-" "He won't, I can promise you that." Dean cut off, while refilling his glass. "Don't make promises you know you can't keep Dean. Just don't." Sam spoke, voice tight.
"Is that it? Is that the only reason?" Dean questioned, taking a sip of his whiskey as he did so. Sam's breath was then caught in his throat... "You need another one? Isn't the fact that, I can't live with this weight on my shoulders, this agony, that dad will find out about us, enough for you?" Sam said, waving his hands as he spoke, his eyes fixed on Dean's back. "No Sam, not even close. You would leave for Stanford whether dad agreed or not, that's what you had told me. So what you're saying, it makes no sense." The green eyed man said as he turned around to face his brother.
"It makes more than enough sense, it's just you, who can't see it Dean." Sam replied, watching as his brother finished the second glass of whiskey and immediately grabbed the bottle, in order to refill the glass for the third time. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, because if dad finds out about us, then, even if I want to run away, I won't be able to!" "This still isn't enough Sam, it isn't enough, to neither justify your decision, nor the way you've been treating me the past two weeks!" Dean yelled taking a step towards his brother. "I needed time Dean, time to think! We're talking about my future here, and in case you're wondering, it wasn't easy for me either, to treat you like that! But dad was always looking!" Sam shot back, anger in his voice, fire in his hazel eyes.
"And just so you know, what I'm doing right now is not something I want to do, but something that needs to be done. It's better for the both of us, to take some time apart before I go away for good." Sam continued, lowering his voice, flicking his gaze between Dean and the floor. "Oh, so you're doing it for me now, so that I can get used to the idea... Yeah sure, that's why you have been sleeping with that Ellie chick as well..." Dean rasped, rage building up inside of him.
But despite Dean's angry voice, Sam could see that, his brother was hurting, and he was hurting too much. All this rage, it was nothing more, than his way of dealing with a painful situation he could not change. "Dean... Look, don't make this harder than it is... Please man... Please..." Sam said, moving closer to his brother, meeting his gaze. "You told me, that if I ever needed us to... Break up for some reason, I should talk to you. And I am doing just that. I'm sorry, I really am, Dean, but... But, I can't give my future up, to stay in this relationship, for just a few more months, no matter how much I may want to be with you." Sam whispered, stretching a trembling hand towards his brother.
"Dean..." But the older man remained silent, as grief and despair rose up in his chest, wrapping themselves around his heart, threatening to break it, with every passing second. "Dean... Talk to me..." "Talk to you... Yeah, okay, I'll talk to you. Do you want me to adapt the Mexican accent as I speak?" Dean said, swallowing two sips of whiskey. "What the Hell are you-" "'I can't give my future up, just for a few more months, no matter how much I may want to.' And blah, blah, blah... What do you think this is, a soap-opera? You said it yourself two weeks ago, what we have isn't some stupid fairy tale. So cut the crap and give me a better reason for your decision, than your cowardice!" Dean rasped, moving towards the center of the room.
"How can you even say that to me Dean?" Sam yelled as he grabbed the older man by the shoulder. "How can you even-" "Oh come on! You think you're the only one who puts his head in the lion's mouth here? It may have slipped your mind, but I would be damned too, should dad find out about us! But unlike you, I don't run away from what I want Sam. I don't give up on us, like you do." "Wanting a different life is no cowardice Dean." Sam stated, his hand on Dean's shoulder starting to shake. " No, No it's not. Selling out your old life however, and especially lying to do so, is." Dean replied, freeing himself from Sam's weak hold.
"I'm not lying Dean, what else would you want to hear me say?" Sam spoke, swallowing to make the words come out of his mouth. "When you really want something you fight for it, isn't that what you say?" The older man muttered, voice low, hurt, filled with bitterness. "But I-" "So no, Sam, you don't want to be with me, like you said, not really. You've proven that, with your actions the past two weeks." "Dean, I told you, we didn't do anything!" "Why Sam? I never thought of you as gay, so since you had the girl, why didn't you had sex with her? If you didn't do anything with her, then why were you two sleeping together?" The green eyed man asked, grabbing the bottle to refill his glass yet again.
And they were those words, which hit Sam like a punch in the stomach. He knew that Dean was angry and hurt, but he could never think that he would speak like that. "You know, I have no obligation to answer that, so let's just get done with it!" The younger Winchester shot back, feeling his heart starting to break and his eyes starting to sting. "Oh, no, no no no, dear Sammy..." Dean announced, underlining the last word, the nickname he knew, he hadn't called his brother with, for the last two weeks. "You're not going to buy your way out with such tricks! I'm your brother, not some client, who hired you as a lawyer!" Dean yelled, grabbing Sam by the hand, pushing him on the nearest wall.
"Let go of me!" "You want us to break up, this is one thing... But the way you've been treating me, the lies you've been serving me, about how you haven't spoken to me, because dad was always watching, and about having done nothing with that chick, I won't accept them Sam, so how about some honesty at last?" Dean questioned, and Sam could smell the Whiskey in his breath. "Oh, so you want to know why I didn't have sex with her?" "Yeah, and I'm guessing, it wasn't so that you wouldn't hurt my feelings! Screw them right?" "No, it had nothing to do with your feelings." Sam responded, lying convincingly enough. "It had to do with mine." He muttered, but his voice trailed off...
Oh, God, let it be over with...
Back on the road, the 20th of August...
"You need anything?" Sam heard Dean asking, and raised his head to look at him. "Sorry, what?" He murmured, swallowing hard to keep his voice steady. "I said..." Dean rasped pulling the car off the road, "Do you need anything?" Sam let his eyes wander and saw that his brother had stopped at a gas station. "Um... Wait, where are we?" "Just outside of Illinois, but I need to stretch my legs." Dean said, voice distant. "Just some water then." Sam replied, watching as his brother nodded his head in approval and got out of the car, shutting the door behind him. The young man let out a long sigh, pressing his hand over his face. Any other time he would have followed Dean, and he would even have given him a blow job... But now, there was no such possibility.
Now, Dean couldn't stand the pain of having Sam close to him, and not being able to touch him, or to even talk to him, like he used to... And for that, he had fled. For Sam, knew him well, he didn't really need to stretch his legs as he had stated; he needed to get away from him, even for a little while. And Sam, hated himself, for being the one to cause so much pain to his brother.
"What you you like sir?" The cashier of the small shop next to the gas station asked, smiling widely. "A bottle of water and-" But Dean's order was interrupted by a woman's high pinched voice. "No, no Mark, it's not about you, it's about me! My career, my job, my future!" Dean's green eyes traveled towards the woman's direction, and saw, that she was talking an the phone. "Just the water please." Muttered the green eyed man, and as his voice fainted, the woman spoke again. "Mark, honey, I do care about your feelings okay? But what about me? What about my own feelings?" She questioned, and Dean found himself, not in the small shop, but in Bobby's house...
Bobby's house, April 4.
"Your feelings? What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, while grabbing the younger man by the collar of his shirt, in order to pin him on the wall. Sam swallowed hard, lifting his head up to look at the ceiling. God, he never wanted to say the words he was about to, for they were lies... Horrible, absurd lies... But Dean had to be convinced, to let what they had go, and Sam could find no other way to make this happen. "I asked a fucking question!" Dean snarled, shaking the younger man by the shirt. "It means... That I didn't have sex with her, because I couldn't think of myself as the guy, who makes love to a girl while... He is with another man as well." Sam said, voice fainting.
"I couldn't Dean, and if I am going to be gone, I'll have to be able to be... Normal. Because that's what I am chasing, this, little slice of normal I've got left..." The young Winchester continued, knowing that he was using Dean's words against him, but having no other choice but to do so. His mind could recall those words, as though they were spoken right at that moment... "It took me two years to get over the fact we're brothers. But not because I was afraid of God's judgment. But because I didn't want to take this slice of 'normal' you had managed to keep, away from you." Dean had said, and Sam knew he wasn't joking. "Right... Problem is, you're lying... Again." Rasped the green eyed man bringing Sam back to the present.
"What?" "Now of all times, you remembered that you want to be normal?" Dean shot back, his words, pure poison. "Then why didn't you end this two weeks ago, when we had the same conversation?" "Dean, just, please... Stop saying such things, what I'm doing is not easy-" "What you're doing, is what you always do!" Dean yelled, releasing Sam from his hold, while grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the table, bringing it on his lips at once, without bothering to pour the drink into his glass this time. And Sam could only watch, as Dean drunk sip after sip of whiskey, while tightening his hold around the bottle.
"What you always do... Yes..." Dean whispered breathlessly, his voice hoarse, as the burn in his throat was almost unbearable. "You just meet people along the way, you call them friends, or whatever else you like, and when we leave, you forget about them!" The middle Winchester yelled, drinking directly from the bottle for yet another time. "You're drunk." Was all Sam could bring himself to answer, for no other words could escape his dry lips. But Dean kept talking, lost in his delirium, in a realm of pure pain and despair. Because Sam, didn't want him anymore. And if Sam didn't want him anymore, then, nobody did. For what was he, but a broken, helpless little man, who craved for love?
"That's what happened with this girl as well, that was the reason why you two didn't have sex... That's what happens with all of them..." Dean declared, taking a hold of the glass which he had earlier set on the kitchen table. "Even with me, am I right?" "Dean-" "You're giving me up, to go to Stanford. You're breaking up with me, because you will be gone, because you'll move on. Because you care for nothing else, save your shitty little college!" the middle Winchester yelled, throwing the glass which he had previously taken a hold of, on the nearest wall. The rattle echoed throughout the house, and countless sharps of glass fell on the wooden floor... And Sam couldn't be sure, that his own heart wasn't somewhere in between the shattered glass, for it was so, very broken...
"You knew I would be going to Stanford Dean, so how can you say that I sold you out?" Sam uttered, taking a step closer to his brother. "Forget it, it doesn't matter, not anymore, you've made up your mind anyway." "Dean, this would happen sooner or later, and you knew it as well. It's just... After meeting Ellie, I understood that... I had to make a choice. I had to choose, between the life I want, and you." "Yeah, and I saw how difficult was for you to make that choice." Dean said raising his voice, for yet another time. "Dean please... Don't say that to me... Please..." Sam pleaded, tears threatening to run down his face. "Please..." He muttered, stretching his trembling hand towards Dean.
"Please..."
"Please..."
Back on the road, the 20th of August...
"Please... Sir, please, could you pay me?" This wasn't Sam's voice... "Please... Sir..." Dean blinked and found himself standing in the small store, while the cashier smiled at him. "Ummm, sorry, what did you say?" He muttered, shaking his head to clear it from all those thoughts. "Oh, pay you, of course, sorry, I'm sorry." The middle Winchester mumbled, as he gave the money to the woman, who thanked him and nodded for the next in line to come forward. Dean dragged himself away from the spot he had been standing, but before he could exit the store, he saw Sam's figure entering.
"What the hell dude, what took you so long?" Sam demanded, and Dean found himself unable to answer. "Um, I was-" "Anyway, here, take the keys..." The young man said and handed the keys of the Impala to Dean. "Where are you going?" "To the bathroom, I won't be long." "You okay?" The older hunter questioned, seeing that his brother's body was shivering. "Fine, I'll be back..." Came the answer in no time, and before Dean could do so much as blink, Sam was gone from his side, and was heading towards the back yard that the shop had, to the bathroom. "Yeah, right... Your fever, may be 'fine', but you, I'm not so sure..." Dean muttered to, the now, empty, space beside him.
Sam managed to reach the bathroom and only then did he let his quivering breaths come out, as he could feel his body starting to shake and betray him. His knees went numb, and the young man grabbed the old sink to balance himself. He dared to look at the mirror, but the face staring back at him was not his own, no it was Dean's, Dean's pained, twisted from the hurt face... Oh God, what wouldn't Sam give, to take that pain away. Take it away... Yeah, problem was, he was the one who was inflicting it in the first place... And all Sam could do about it, was to cry, like a pathetic weakling, in some old bathroom, when no one else, was looking.
In some bathroom, yeah... Just like that night.
Bobby's house, April 4.
"Please Dean..." Sam muttered, extending his hand towards his brother, who turned away from his touch. "Please what, Sam? Please, 'don't be mad?' Please, 'don't feel like crap?' Please, 'say that everything is alright and that, nothing is wrong?' Please what?" Dean yelled, feeling his blood turning into a sea of sorrow, which was rapidly, transforming itself into anger, burning his skin, his bones, his very soul. "Please, try and understand... Please, do not turn away from me." Sam replied, his voice just above a whisper.
"Don't turn away..." But here, Dean's voice fainted, as a pained, almost hysterical laughter, escaped his lips. And the very next second, the bottle of whiskey was once again on his lips... Sam's eyes blurred even more, and this time, he could hold his tears back no longer. He blinked, letting them fall, but could do nothing else, for Dean lashed his hands out, taking a hold of Sam's own hands, bringing their bodies, only inches apart. "I am not the one, who's turning away! I'm not the one, who's running away! I'm not the one, who's forsaking his family and his relationship, just so he can be 'normal', and fuck some girl!" Dean yelled, gasping for breath.
For just a few moments, silence fell on the room. Both brothers were broken beyond repair, but Dean was feeling so betrayed, and so very alone, yes, alone, even though Sam was right there, so he couldn't see how much his brother was hurting. Time seemed to stand still for a little while, as no movements were made, and no words were spoken. Only looks were exchanged, hurt looks, sad and weary, but above all else, looks filled with guilt, and despair... And then, it was as though time started all over again, for a river of harmful words came out of Dean's lips...
"You knew I would have to leave Dean-" "In five Goddamn months, not now! Why do you want us to end this now?" "You must understand, Dean, I-" "You're just giving up on me, on us-" "I can't risk it, Dean-" Yeah, right, that's why you were fucking this Ellie-" "I didn't do anything-" "Yeah, yeah right, because of your feelings-" "Because I didn't want to fuck her, while you were fucking me!" Sam answered back, knowing that what he was saying, was a hit below the belt. But he could find nothing else to answer, for his own mind was blank, and overloaded with guilt and pain.
God... Oh, God, Not even a bullet could cause Dean's face to twist so much with pain. Sam swallowed hard, his breath hitching, getting caught in his throat. And the very next second, his back hit the wall, as Dean lashed his body on Sam's with force. "You son of a... When did I ever, fuck you? When did I ever, put my own needs over yours? My own pleasure, over yours? I always treated you as though you could break, always, every fucking time!" Dean snarled, unable to hide the pain from filling his voice.
"I didn't ask you to do so! I didn't ask you to be soft on me, when it comes to hunting and training either!" Sam replied, remembering his father's words. "Well, I'm sorry, but, that's who I am, the one who doesn't want you to dye your hands with blood, the one who cares about you! Sue me!" Dean yelled, but Sam knew he had to put an end to this now, for he couldn't take this any longer. "Yes, you're all those things, but you're also, the one who can't let go of me! But I, will, let what we have go, and I'll go away from here, whether you like it, or not!" Sam shot back, pushing his brother away.
Gathering up, whatever courage he had left, Sam spoke, for yet another time. Spoke, for the last time. "It is over, Dean. We're done, and I'm not changing my mind. Nothing lasts forever Dean, nothing. And one day, you'll understand that you've been wasting your life. Wasting it, on an endless battle, wasting it, on the road, on things empty, meaningless... I just hope, that you will understand it, before it's too late, before your entire life will have passed before your eyes, before the best years of it, are utterly spent." Sam said, and Dean took several steps backwards, unable to stop himself from waving 'no', with his head.
"It's over Dean. We, are over." Sam repeated, while hiding his hand behind his back, so as to be able to dig his nails into his palm, to the point of drawing blood, so as to maintain his voice steady. He then, turned around, climbing the stairs two at the time, not bothering to look back, not bearing, to look back, at his brother, who was standing still, as though he was frozen, on that same spot. No, he couldn't bring himself to do that. Thus, he fled, locking himself in Bobby's old bathroom. There, Sam let himself collapse on the floor, let the hot tears run down his face anew. And as he took a look around him, memories flooded his mind...
'You know, I love this place... I had you boxed up, between the wall and my own body, and then, I kissed you for the first time... Here, in this very bathroom...'
'Dean, I... I hate this bathroom...'
'Well, I don't want you to hate it anymore. And I want you to remember... That I've loved you and that I will love you more than anything, and anyone… More than, just my brother, so, so much more, than just a brother. In so many ways, wrong ways, but still… I will always, always, love you Sam.'
God, how he hated this bathroom...
God, how he hated himself...
And as Sam sunk on the floor of the old bathroom, biting his lip hard, so as to hold his sobs from being too loud, he heard the sound of thick glass getting smashed, as it hit the wall with almost superhuman strength...
Thus, the bottle of whiskey, was no more.
Back on the road, the 20th of August...
Sam's eyes flew open, and he found himself standing in the middle of the small bathroom which the shop had to offer. Darting his head to the side, the young man got a glimpse of a woman, probably the cashier, who was picking up shards of glass, as well as, a man who was standing next to her offering money, while at the same time, holding what used to be a pack which containing six bottles of beer. Yeah, it used to be a package, for now half of them, had gone crashing down to the floor.
The young hunter blew out a breath and washed his face, bracing himself as he did so. He had fooled around long enough, it was time he returned to the car. Casting one last glance at the mirror, Sam blinked at the face which was staring back at him. This time, it was his own, but Sam could barely recognize it, for it was pale, thinner than usual, and oh, so very tired... He swallowed hard and turned his back on the mirror, exiting the old bathroom.
Meanwhile, Dean had returned to his beloved Impala, taking his seat behind the wheel on which he was sure he had left his fingerprints on. His emerald eyes flicked around, while his fingers ran small circles on the leather. "And here we are Baby, here we are..." he murmured, letting his head rest on the window and his body melt, in that all too familiar leather seat. "Just me... and you right?" Dean uttered as if waiting for the car to answer him. And even though she could not do that, she knew what Dean was thinking, for she had heard those words before...
Bobby's house, April 4
"It's over Dean. We, are over." Sam had said, fleeing upstairs as soon as the last word had escaped his lips. Sam had fled, but Dean had remained still, shaking his head in refusal. And all the middle Winchester could do was to watch, through blurred eyes, watch as his brother disappeared upstairs, shutting the bathroom's door behind him. Silence fell on the house, a deafening silence, which Dean could not bear.
The very next second however, Dean's mind was overloaded with words, Sam's words, countless words, everything his brother had said, and maybe more... Feeling dizzy, Dean shut his eyes, while trying to make the noise go away, because he couldn't stand it, no he couldn't stand hearing to all those words, which somehow ended up being summarized in one, short phrase. 'We, are over.' 'We, are over.' And the Sam inside Dean's head kept talking, but no matter what he did, the green eyed man could not make him stop.
Reopening his eyes, Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table, and momentarily held it in a vice-like grip, drinking what was left inside of it, in an attempt to clear his head. 'We, are over.' There it was again, the same phrase and Dean couldn't hear it any longer. Thus his hand moved on its own, throwing the now empty bottle at the wall as though it was a dreadful relic which needed to be destroyed. Breathing heavily, Dean looked at the shattered glass, but then turned his back on it, and he literally ran out the door. Much like Sam had done, the older hunter let his feet guide him wherever they wanted to.
And before he could understand what had happened, he found himself standing in Bobby's yard, right in front of his beloved car. He got in and sat behind the wheel, his breathing ragged and uneven, his hands trembling and sweating, his eyes burning with unshed tears. Turning his head to the side, Dean staring at the empty seat next to him. A seat on which Sam would always find a way to lay down on... And as Sam's smiling face passed before blurring green eyes, the hunter found himself unable to control his breathing, or his tears. Like rivers they ran down his face, as if the dam, which was holding them back had finally been broken...
Dean lay on the front seat, curling his body into a ball, resting his head on the spot where Sam would sit and let himself break. It didn't matter that the hour was growing late, or that the wind was blowing cold outside... No, none of those things mattered. Because Dean could no longer feel anything, for sorrow and sadness had overtaken him. The only good thing was that, no one was there to behold his breakdown, no one, save his Baby.
For she had always been his home. And now, this dark hour of the night, she was that, and so much more. She was the home for a broken man, who had found shelter under her roof, who had found a place to lay his body to rest. And it didn't matter that he was constantly grabbing fistfuls of the leather seat, digging his nails deep inside, as he tried to breathe in between his sobs. It didn't matter that he almost broke the wheel as he tried to understand why he was feeling such excruciating pain, for something which would have had to happen anyway. Nor did it matter that he yelled that he hated her, as he was trying to fight off, all those wonderful, but now torturous memories, he and his brother had lived inside her.
No, no it didn't matter, because after what seemed like an eternity, Dean's body finally went lax and almost collapsed on the front seat, shivering violently. And then, the man took in some deeper breaths, while caressing the leather underneath him. And with his voice raspy, hoarse and oh so low, he muttered... "Here we are Baby... Here we are... Just you and me right? Just you and me..."
This was the first night, which would later be proven to be one of many, that the Impala sheltered the broken man, who then spoke to her, told her everything that had happened... Because he had nobody else to talk to. And then, somewhere around the time the sun was rising, Dean finally fell asleep, exhausted and hurt...
Fell asleep, with his face buried on the side of the seat on which Sam would sit, with his scent on his nose, with his smile in his mind, with his warm lap, as a pillow... And somewhere inside the house, Sam was also fast asleep in that bathroom he hated so much, with the echo of Dean's soft voice swearing love to him, as his lullaby.
Thus ended Sam's biggest act ever, so now it was up to forces beyond his reach to decide the course of the future... And Fate as well as luck, would sometime soon be on his side...
Back on the road, the 20th of August...
The buzzing of the phone was what brought Dean back to the present. His eyes snapped open and he instinctively reached for his gun, before realizing it was the phone which was ringing. "Yeah?" he answered at once. "Dean where are you?" John Winchester's voice was heard from the other end of the line. "Just outside of Illinois sir, why are you asking?" "Go rent a room and I will be there early tomorrow morning." "What? Dad, you told me the hunt was easy-" "I shouldn't have let you two go on a hunt alone." John declared, leaving no room for an argument. "I'll be there tomorrow morning, so don't hunt this shifter alone, do I make myself clear?" "Yes sir, crystal..." Dean replied hanging up the phone...
No sooner had the green eyed man hung up the phone, that Sam's figure became visible in the rear view mirror. Dean tried hard, not to fix his emerald eyes on him, but this just wasn't possible. Sighing heavily, Dean understood that Sam's fever was picking up again, making the young man shiver, despite the heat. "Great... Now the last thing I need, is you with a fever and dad on my ass..." He muttered to himself, but Sam did not hear him. "Sorry I took so long, we can now go." Sam rasped, clearing his throat. "Here, drink some water." Dean proposed, unable to hide the care from his voice. He then, passed his brother the bottle, flinching when his hand touched Sam's hotter one.
Any other time, he would have insisted on stopping, but now... Now he just started the car, which obeyed his wishes, and kept driving towards Illinois, and towards a shape shifter, whose days were less than few, and whose words to Dean, would mark the beginning of the end, of his suffering... But for now, all Dean could do, was to turn on the radio and grab the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. And as the wind blew, dry and hot, a song, which reflected Dean's feelings over the last few months echoed in the car...
And the song, sang...
"Day after day I keep waking up
To find that you're slipping away
Night after night
I can't fight the emptiness inside
Nothing I can say
Now I know you're turning me away
You're wearing a disguise
You don't have to hide cause
The truth is in your eyes tonight
I don't want to live a lie
But I don't want to say goodbye...
And I can't let you go even though it's over
I just can't let you go
Though your love is growing colder[...]
I don't want to live a lie
But I don't want to say goodbye
I can't let you go
Even though it's over
I just can't let you go[...]
I can't let you go... even though it's over..."
A/N! So, here ends chapter 21!
Song: "Can't let you go"
Artist: Rainbow
Album: Bent, out of Shape
Year of release: 1983
Lyrics are from the syte: .com
I OWN NOTHING! No money are made from this!
So, I hope that you enjoyed it! Please, please, tell me what you think! :)
Once again, I would like to thank GypsyPriestess for all her hard word, as well as her kind words! She really helped me out! :)
So, Until next time, Best of wishes! :) A/N!