Disclaimer: The Winchesters belong to Eric Kripke and I will be forever grateful to him for sharing them with us. I hope he doesn't mind me borrowing them from time to time; I promise to return them as I found them. And I know the rule. If I break them, I buy them.
A/N: The week shaped up better than I expected so I was able to spend some time with this story. As usual, Kelli was an excellent typo-hunter. Thanks for all the feedback!
Chapter 9
Sometime later, Sam began to stir. When he realized his head was resting in Dean's lap and his brother's hand lay gingerly on his chest, he jerked into a sitting position.
"Dean," he fumbled, embarrassed.
"It's okay." Dean assured him.
"No, man, I'm sorry. I mean," Sam started to stand but Dean grabbed his arm.
"Listen to me." he said. "It's okay."
Dean looked into his brother's eyes and a moment later Sam settled next to him on the floor, his back against the couch.
"I'm the one who should be sorry, anyway." Dean said quietly.
Sam looked at him. "For what?"
"For not letting you do that sooner. For not making you do it."
Sam was quiet for several minutes. "Dad wouldn't have approved."
"Yeah, well Dad didn't know everything."
Sam looked at him, surprised.
"Maybe if he'd had a few more moments like that – well, maybe he wouldn't have been so angry and maybe – maybe we could have grown up differently."
"Dad was doing his best, Dean."
Dean nodded, then laughed. "That used to be my line."
Sam smiled in agreement. "Yeah, it was.
After a moment of silence, Sam asked, "When did that change?"
"I don't know."
"You're still mad at him." it wasn't a question.
"Not at him. At the situation. Just like you're angry about what happened to Jessica."
"I don't want to talk about Jessica." Sam said quietly.
"Dude, you can't keep this bottled up anymore. It's been three years and you're still as raw as you were the night it happened. I'm not going to tell you to get over it; you never really get over the death of someone you love. But you have to get past it, Sam. You have to get past it so you can have a normal life."
"Since when does Dean Winchester have anything good to say about having a normal life?"
"Yeah, well." Dean slapped his brother on the arm. "Dude, it's really late. You think you can go back to sleep?"
Sam shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."
There were only a few hours until dawn and they passed without incident. It took Sam quite a while to get back to sleep because he couldn't stop thinking about the changes in his brother. He seemed to slip so easily into the kind of life Sam always wanted; the kind of life Dean always scoffed at. Sam, on the other hand, felt uncomfortable so much of the time. He liked school and had the need to graduate, but outside of class, everything was so empty.
He also thought about his breakdown in front of Dean. He had never done that before; well not since he was eight or nine, maybe. Sam had always been volatile, but he learned at a young age that tears were not appropriate. John didn't tolerate weakness because he said it would get them killed. But when it was just him and Dean, John's rules didn't always apply. Dean seemed to understand that Sam needed to vent his emotions and, sometimes, that meant crying.
Dean was up just after 10:00 the next morning and was playing a video game when Sam wandered into the living room later. The younger brother sat down without a word and watched as Dean expertly guided his video race car to the finish line ahead of his computer-controlled opponents.
Dean handed him a controller and Sam took it without a word. They played in a comfortable silence for quite a while, but knowing there were still things to talk about. Sam also knew that he was going to have to go back to California soon and the idea did not set well with him. Classes didn't start again for a couple more weeks, but he and Dean only planned a week together and that was almost over. He'd thought about asking Dean if he could stay longer, but that would only delay the inevitable return to the loneliness and he didn't want to give Dean any more reason to worry about him.
"I think it's time for some food." Dean announced after Sam beat him for the third time.
Sam grinned. "Sore loser."
"Hungry loser." Dean corrected as he headed to the shower.
They ate at one of Dean's favorite places, then spent the afternoon exploring other parts of the city. They talked, but not about anything important, content just to spend time together. Dean was determined not to let Sam leave with things unresolved but, after so many years of sweeping things under the carpet, he knew the conversation couldn't be forced. He looked for openings all afternoon, but it never seemed like the right time.
After hanging out at the bar for a while, they returned home.
"Sam," Dean began.
"I'm really tired." Sam interrupted him. "I think I'm going to turn in."
Dean watched him fidget for a moment and decided to let him off the hook. "Okay. I'll see you in the morning."
Sam started to say something, but instead he simply nodded and headed to his bedroom.
TBC
