Overcome

By Knights

10/05

Rated PG

Disclaimer: The Supernatural characters belong to Warner Brothers. I am just borrowing them for a short while. No copyright infringement is intended.

Dean gasped and abruptly sat up in bed. He couldn't recall the nightmare that chased him from his sleep, but the emotion attached still had a firm grip on him. It was an emotion he kept deeply buried, one he kept to himself.

Sitting, catching his breath he looked to the neighboring bed where Sam was amazingly asleep for a change. Dean would take small blessings where he could find them. He didn't want to have to talk to his brother. Explaining the reason for his disturbed sleep was not an option he was willing to contemplate and he wasn't in the mood for lying.

Slowly and as quietly as he could be, he slipped on a shirt and his shoes and exited the hotel room. He needed air. He debated going back to leave Sam a note, but he didn't intend to go far.

Waiting where he knew she would be, was his baby. Sliding onto the hood, he leaned back against the windshield. Relaxing into a reclined position, he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander.

Dean loved his car. Not more than his Dad or his brother but definitely the next best thing. He did little things that he imagined made her happy. Took pride in how her engine revved or the sun glistened off her finish. Sam didn't understand why the Impala was so important to him. Why he babied it and talked to it. For the most part, Dean ignored Sam's gentle teasing about his obsession. As long as Sam continued teasing and didn't connect the dots, he was safe.

Safe from Sam's questions, his contemplating glances and his pity. But more importantly, he was safe from himself; safe from truly confronting the emotions that raged war at his insides. Emotions that he refused to deal with, attempting to keep them hidden and suppressed. At times, it was all he could do to keep it together, to appear calm, rational and cool. Usually he was able to keep himself in check with an offhand remark or sarcastic comment. However, on rare occasions they worked themselves into his sleep where his defenses were limited. On those nights, nights like tonight, he had no choice but to let the emotion wash over him. To be consumed by their need to be acknowledged.

He was in constant turmoil, never truly at rest. His tactic of avoidance wasn't working as it once did. His emotions seemed more on the surface now than ever before. But then again, he had added more guilt to his plate when he went to find Sam.

If he hadn't come back into Sam's life, his little brother would still be happy. Living the life of his dreams; accomplishing his goals and just getting to be normal. When Dean was honest with himself – which wasn't very often, he knew he was jealous of Sam. Jealous that Sam was able to put himself first, of not having the responsibility to be there for Dad or his brother. For having the courage to tell Dad that he was going away to school, that he had enough of hunting and was going to be normal for once. For going out and making friends and having a life. The jealousy angered him more than anything else. He shouldn't be jealous of Sam. He loved Sam, wanted him to be happy, and wanted to be happy for him. But try as he might, he couldn't overcome the emotion. Instead he pushed it away and refused to deal with it.

Like the guilt. He had so wanted his brother to go hunting with him. He not only wanted it, he needed it. Needed it so bad that he thought he was going to die without it. It wasn't that he was obsessed with Sam. No, it was more that there was no one else to turn to. He had no one. When he got the message from their Dad, it had hammered home the truth to Dean. He was alone; truly utterly and completely alone. The thought scared him. Scared him more than anything he had ever faced. He needed Sam with him; needed the companionship, the contact, the support – even if it wasn't given freely. He had returned that night to beg Sam to reconsider joining him. When Jessica died, a small part of him was relieved – now Sam had nothing to keep him away from Dean. In fact just the opposite, he would want to come with him to track down the monster that killed his girlfriend. Every time Sam woke from a nightmare he felt guilty for feeling that relief, for being thankful that she was dead so he wouldn't be alone.

But damnit, when was it going to be his turn? He sacrificed his dreams, he hopes, and his ambitions because his Dad needed him. He sacrificed his childhood to be there for Sam, protect him and make sure that all his needs were meet. He'd given everything he could give of himself, did everything that was asked of him and what did he get in return? His Dad just left, no explanation, no nothing, just disappeared. And Sam took off to go to school, to have friends, to have a life. A life he wanted Dean to have no part of. Everyone left him. Everyone would always leave him. In fact, he couldn't really blame them. Dean knew he was a freak. Knew he was a mess, broken, torn and twisted on the inside. He was so far damaged that he wanted to leave him. He knew that once they found their Dad and they took care of this creature that killed their Mom and Jess, Sam was going to leave him again. And the anger fled and more guilt rushed up to take its place. Dean was in no rush to find their father. For the longer he was missing, the longer Sam would willingly stay with him. He knew he was on borrowed time but he couldn't help himself. He didn't want to be selfish, but he didn't know what would be left of him when Sam left the next time.

Besides this thing with Jess and the hunting, Sam was a fairly normal guy. Dean had done a good job looking out for him while they were growing up. If all this wouldn't have happened Sam could have had a perfectly normal life. When this was over, Sam would be able to go and pick life back up again, start fresh, and forget his brother. As the anger, jealousy and guilt surged again he clenched his eyes shut. Tears he refused to acknowledge trickled into his hairline.

He lifted his head slightly and let it drop back to the windshield. Back onto his car. His car. The one thing in his life he could count on not to leave him. The one thing he knew that if he put the energy into it, it would stand by him, support him and never leave. It pained him that the only thing he could truly count on was his car.

Rubbing his sleeve over his eyes, he sat up and patted the car. A small smile touched his lips, Sam had no idea why he felt the way he did about his baby and he with any luck, he never would.

Fini