Dean was yanked from his sleep with the words Sam uttered during Dean's stay in the hospital. He slowly came to terms with his surroundings, remembering they had changed motels as his eyes gradually adjusted to the dim room. He glanced at the glowing red number on the alarm clock that sat next to Sam's bed. 4am. It was too early to wake Sam to get moving. No one in their right mind would want to go anywhere at 4am. No one would want to be awake at 4am, yet here he was. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, facing the large, curtain covered window. Behind the thin curtain, he could make out the glow of a street lamp that stayed glowing throughout the night. Hauling himself off the bed, Dean headed to the bathroom, banging his hip on an unseen counter corner as he did so. He paused and grabbed for his injured hip, mouth open in a silent yell of pain. He didn't want to disturb Sam from his slumber. Although the collision had been a notably loud one, Sam just turned over in his sleep, moving around until reaching a comfortable position and kept of sleeping.
Dean made it to the bathroom without any further complications and closed the door before flicking on the fluorescent light. He rubbed his now aching hip, knowing that there would be a bruise in the morning. He shook his head with a grimace. It was already morning. So what the hell was he doing awake? He scratched his chest absently as he turned to look in the mirror. Looking back at him was a tired face he barely recognised. He rarely looked so bad as he did just then, peering into the hollow face that stared him down just as sternly as he did it. There was no doubt in his mind that sometimes he needed a break from the hunting, but holidays were not a luxury he could afford. He frowned, reaching out to touch the cool mirror. Still in a haze of sleep, he was unable to understand that the face in the mirror was his. Surely he couldn't look so bad. Just as his fingertips brushed the glass, a sharp knock came at the bathroom door, causing him to flinch just slightly and break his contact. "What?" Came the irritated response.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"How many things could I be doing in a god damn bathroom? Jesus Christ Sam" Dean opened the door to reveal his lanky brother whose head almost reached the top of the doorframe. Looking up into his brother's face, Dean was taken aback by the fatigue he saw there. Fatigue that matched his own. "Why are you awake anyway?"
"I heard a crash then the light under the door woke me up" It never ceased to amaze Dean how light a sleeper Sam had turned out to be especially how he was as a kid. Twelve year old Sammy didn't have the same worries and stresses as 22 year old Sammy.
As wary as he knew he looked, Dean felt as though sleep was the furthest thing from his mind and by the looks of things, Sam was in the same way. Dean wandered back to his bed and sat down on it heavily before flicking on the lamp that sat on the nearby table. Sam flicked off the bathroom light and joined Dean, sitting on his own bed and facing his brother. Dean sat once again looking at his hands. The silence between the two of them was almost unbearable with all its discomfort and awkwardness.
It was Sam who broke the silence first, as Dean knew he would. Sam had trouble staying quiet unless utterly occupied by a project or if he had decided to sulk. "What are we doing here Dean?" His words were wracked with a tiredness that only came from mental exhaustion. "We can't just continue on forward all the time without looking back on the things that have happened. I mean, how are we ever going to learn if we don't examine what we've done wrong?"
Dean just listened silently to his brother's words, both present and past. There was so much that Sammy was hypocritical about, so much he still didn't know and as much as Dean wanted to teach and have him learn he knew that he would only succeed in removing the traces of Sam that he admired, assuming of course Sam didn't just completely blow him off, which was the more likely outcome.
"What are we doing? I don't know. I haven't known for a long time. We do what Dad asks and that's as much certainty as I can give you"
"But why do we do that? Why do we have to do what he says all the time? You keep saying that, but do you even know what it means?"
"Sammy, we've been through this before. Dad knows best, he knows–"
"Does he? Look at every situation he's thrown us into. Not one of them has resulted in us walking away unscathed"
"This is a hard job, even on the best of days. We'd have to be invincible not to get away 'unscathed'. You know that. Why do we have to argue out this point again and again?"
"Because you don't know what you're talking about"
"I don't know what I'm talking about?" Dean grew frustrated with his brother and pushed himself off the bed. He went to the covered window, collecting his thoughts before coming back with a response. He turned back to Sam, his voice now a dead calm. "What did you say to me when lost Sheriff Devins in the lake?"
"Like I can remember specifics that far back"
"Try to remember"
"I don't know" Now it was Sam's turn to get frustrated, although he remained seated on his bed. Dean looked down on him with an intensity he rarely kept for his little brother.
"'We're not going to save everybody'. That's what you said. Yet as soon as something happens to me…" Dean trailed off; unable to retrieve the words he was searching for.
"That's different" Sam muttered quietly, as though he didn't want Dean to hear. But to no effect.
"How? How is that different?" Dean didn't Sam a chance to respond. "It's not different at all. Even though you don't want to see it, I am included in the 'everybody' you mentioned. Someone died to keep me here, to keep me living. Someone died" He stopped himself going further for his own benefit. He didn't know the man who died, never met him, never asked for the exchange and he was certain that man would find it a pretty raw deal. Lord knows he would if presented with the same situation.
Sam sat bewildered on the bed, words escaping him. Dean continued, his voice rough, trying to make Sam understand. He had to make Sam understand. "As hard as this job is, it's made harder by the knowledge that I've got to make a bigger difference now so that man's death means something. So that Layla's death will mean something." He turned, unable to keep his gaze locked with Sam's. He shook his head, cupping his hands behind his neck and looking at the ceiling.
Sam frowned deeply as he took in Dean's defeated posture. He had got what he wanted and more, but he didn't feel as good as he thought a discussion like this would make him. "What…" Sam's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What about all the risks you take to…to protect me?" He was almost scared to ask for the reaction it would cause.
Dean dropped his hands and slowly turned to face Sam, wearing the same tortured expression he had worn upon realising he had to return home. "That is different. You have something to live for Sam. Like it or not, you've got something I don't have. Something Dad doesn't have and you have a real chance to do something with it." He shook his head and forced a laugh over his lips. "You see why I don't like these moments? I feel like freakin' Julia Roberts." His quip failed and a frown was exchanged for the fake grin he had adopted. "Just promise me something"
"What?"
"If something happens to me, you accept it as a side effect to our job."
"Dean, I…"
"Promise me" It took Sam a few moments to respond, having to look away from the intense gaze that Dean had taken up once more.
"Only if you promise me you're not going to give up as easily as you did before."
"Deal"
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AN: Whoa, ok. That was rather dialogue injected, sorry if that's not your slice of teacake. So, I've just got an ending to write up now. My most humble apologies if you find Sam and Dean to be out of character. Chalk that down to my lack of experience in writing them. Also, if I've spelt any names wrong, or gotten something wrong, please tell me. I'm not a fan of looking stupid. As always, Constructive criticism is most appreciated, but all comments are welcomed.