A Letter to Home
Disclaimer: Neither Sam nor Supernatural are in anyway mine (unfortunately) – see E. Kripke and CW for ownership details.
Summary: Sam writes another letter to Dean just before Christmas with no intention of posting this one - more heartfelt confidences.
Rating: A few mild curses
Author's Note: No mending of Dean in this letter (this is another unsent letter)! Sorry, you'll have to wait a bit longer for that.
Dear Dean,
I don't know how to tell you this. I have written the most god-awful letter to you and I know it will hurt you and I hate myself for it but I don't know what else to say to you. I've said I don't want you to come and join me anymore but it isn't entirely true. I do want you to come, I still want my brother here, as I have every day since I left, but now I know without any doubt, I couldn't make you fit in here. There is no way to make you be like these people and let you still be you. You would have to change so much, there wouldn't be much Dean left and I hate that about this place. I love it here; it's everything I wanted it to be and more. My only regret is that I have to let you go. I'm abandoning you to the life Dad has laid before you.
I read your cards and worry about all the things you don't say on them. Is that why you send postcards, because they don't fit much on them? What is it that you don't tell me now, Dean? I used to feel like I knew everything important there was to know about you, now I barely recognise you from the notes you send. I feel like I don't know you anymore. This place has damaged that one part of my before life that I treasured, the one part I didn't want to change, the part that was us. Without you, part of me is missing but much as I regret it, I am learning to live without it. I don't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed that I can survive without you.
I wait anxiously for each postcard from you. If they're late, I worry that you are lying in a hospital somewhere and that Dad wouldn't ever let me know or worse, I worry that it's too late and you've gone. I can't bear that thought and yet I don't write to you or talk to you. I know your calls are getting further and further apart and I know it's my fault. I don't know why you call or write to someone who treats you as badly as I do. I'm sorry. Deeply, truly sorry. I just can't talk to you because I hear your voice and I want to have back that one part of our life before but I can't ask you again to come and join me and I'm not coming back so talking just hurts too goddamn much.
I'm going to Jess' parents for Christmas. It is so daunting. We've never had that kind of family get-together. When I think back we missed so much and half the time, I'm just not sure how 'families' work and am frightened I'm going to lose it all by getting something wrong. Our Christmases were pretty pathetic really weren't they? No proper tree, no turkey, barely any presents and those we did get were necessities not luxuries, new clothes to replace the worn out ones we were wearing at the time, things we had to have anyway. This will be nothing like that and I just dread someone asking about my family and our Christmases or even our life. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for how you tried to make Christmas different to every other day of our sad existence but you shouldn't have had to do that. That was Dad's job – another thing he didn't even try to do for us.
I'm sorry for the letter I'm sending you, you don't deserve that, but then you don't really deserve this one either. You are a better man than I Dean and I ask you to please forgive me for hurting you.
I hope you get what you deserve this Christmas, a better life.
Best wishes Sam