The Impala drove up the long drive much slower than it had left it. Bobby watched the boys return from their excursion to Ohio. Dean mentioned when he called that they didn't save the girl. His voice sounded hollow and distant over the phone. The car barely rolled to a stop and Sam was out of it and brushing past Bobby and into the house. Dean slowly got out of the car, slammed the door, and moseyed up to Bobby and nodded.
"Bobby."
"Dean?" Dean shrugged.
"He's freaked, I think."
"What do you mean?"
"We got there just as she was blowing her own brains out of her head. Sam yelled, and yelled, on his way up the stairs, he was taking them fast Bobby, so fast that he stumbled a couple of times and I was afraid he was going to fall down the stairs, and we got into her room and she looked right at Sam and said 'I can't live like this' and pulled the trigger. She just did it." Dean shook his head and sighed. "Sam just sort of crumbled. He asked me why he was getting these visions if he wasn't going to be able to save the people from the horrible things that he saw. It really has him shook. I didn't know what to say to him."
"You're his brother. You'll find the right words."
"But I've only been his brother for a couple of months. I don't know what calms him down. I know what annoys him….I know some of the things he enjoys…but I don't know how to comfort him when something like this happens."
"I think you do."
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I heard you Dean. But I've never seen two people act like you two."
"Two strangers who happen to share the same blood, you mean?"
"No. You two act like you've grown up together and grown up tight. You'll know what to do. Trust your instincts." Dean nodded and sighed. He went to the car and opened the back door and pulled out his bag. He turned and looked at Bobby with sad eyes.
"I don't like seeing him like this." Going around to the other side, he pulled Sam's bag out of the car and proceeded to go past Bobby and into the house.
"Neither do I boy." He sighed and followed the younger man inside the house.
Dean opened the door to their room, Sam was sitting on his bed, hands clasped in between his legs, head bowed watching the floor.
"Sam?" Dean questioned as he sat the bags down on his bed.
"Leave me alone."
"No." Dean said as he unzipped his bag and began to unpack the materials. "I think you need to tell me what is going through that freaky head of yours." He said without looking at him, and beginning to sort clothes based upon smell.
"I'm not a freak." Sam snapped.
"I never said you were."
"You said my freaking head."
"Yeah, well, all of us who went to Stanford are freakishly smart."
"Sure, yeah, that's what you meant. You aren't the one forced to endure death visions."
"True. But still, I can build an EMF detector out of an old walkman. I think that puts me into the freak category as well."
"Dean. I saw that woman die. I knew she was going to kill herself. I. SAW. IT. You can't tell me that doesn't freak you out." Dean stopped the sniff test and turned to his brother. Sam looked up at him, his eyes were tired, and they had a weight to them that they didn't have when they first met at Stanford, and Dean couldn't help but worry that he had caused some of that heaviness in the younger man.
Suddenly saddened, Dean turned away and not wanting Sam to see it, he turned back to the clothes he was sorting and said, "No, it does not freak me out."
"You can't even look at me when you lie to me." Sam said and stood up. "Even YOU think I'm a freak. God. Why is this happening to me?" he asked no one and everyone. "I could be back in Nebraska leading a normal, safe life. But no. I had to come with you to this freakish place and become a freak!" Sam said and tried to storm past Dean, but he caught him by the arm and spun him back to face him.
"Wait a second. Wait. You were the one gung ho about leaving school. You were the one that wanted to ride this wave. Do not blame me for your decision. You wanted this. I wanted this. We made this choice and now we have to live with the consequences." Dean's green eyes looked like they were on fire. Sam had never seen Dean look quite so fierce.
"But she died."
"I know that."
"But we are supposed to SAVE people."
"We can't save everyone Sam."
"Then why do I have these freaky powers, if I can't help them before it is too late?" Sam looked on the verge of tears. He was afraid, he was hurt and he was above all panicked.
"I don't know Sammy. I just don't know. But it isn't a reason to quit. If you don't want to hunt anymore, then I get it and that's fine. You can go back to Nebraska."
"You won't go back to Texas?"
"No. There will always be something to hunt."
"But she died."
"Doesn't mean that the next person will. Doesn't mean that I won't be able to save more than I lose."
"You really believe that?"
"I do. I feel like I've been given a job to do, and I intend to do it. I think this is what I'm supposed to be doing."
Sam froze and looked at his brother, searching for answers in his face. "You think so?"
"I do."
"Dean, I don't know…what if these get worse?"
"Then they get worse."
"I can't live like this."
"Then we'll find answers."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It is that simple. Come on Sam. There is a whole world out there that says demons exist and werewolves, and all of this other weird crap that we've been told all of our lives that doesn't exist. So, whose to say that these visions can't be stopped, or maybe we can save these people, we just need to move faster, we will figure it out Sam. We will." Sam blinked a couple of times and nodded.
"So, uh, how are we deciding what needs to be washed?" Sam asked and moved away from his brother. "Smell?"
Dean cleared his throat and said, "Depends on how much laundry you want to do."
"Scent it is then." Sam said and opened his own duffel. The two, in unison, opened sorted clothes and pretended like neither of them was scared.