Part Nine

When Sam woke up the next morning, he noticed the cold draft in the room, shivering slightly as he rolled over to face Jess. He froze when he saw the unfamiliar bed just across from him. Almost immediately he looked around, taking in the room that was completely foreign to him. Gone were the familiar baby blue walls of his room back in his apartment, the large window with the plain white curtains they'd yet to replace, the untouched guitar Jess got him for his birthday a year back because Sam expressed an interest in taking up lessons. In their places was a small plain room with few decors which included a small dresser, a coffee table, a couple old TVs and an unoccupied bed that hadn't looked like it had been slept in, and of course, the bed he was currently laying on.

The awful choice for wallpaper, old, slightly peeling, with flowery patterns everywhere brought him back to the years he'd traveled through the country with his dad and brother, going wherever the hunt took them, chasing after ghosts and ghouls and werewolves. He paled, trying to push back the thoughts of his dad and the days when he'd been forced to hunt instead of studying, his normal life so abruptly taken from him in one fell swoop. A memory of Dean, with his green eyes, flecked with gold in the sunlight, freckles adorning his face like sun kisses, the smirk that charmed the pants off anyone who talked to his brother, came unbidden to his mind. He blinked, tried to push that back as well.

Then suddenly, like the floodgates just opened, images of last night flashed before his eyes and Sam couldn't help but gasp, doubling over, his hand pressing against his forehead as he tried not to become overwhelmed.

Dean drenched to the bone, showing up in the middle of the night, in dad's leather jacket, his green eyes sparkling with mischief but his lips speaking out words that would flip Sam's life on its head.

The warning. He and Jess were in danger. Dean had premonitions like him. He wasn't a freak after all. His brother shared his dirty, little secret. Or maybe they were both freaks.

Jess acting different, mean-spirited, her eyes flashing black. Dean warning Sam too late that it wasn't Jess anymore and then suddenly being thrown back. And then. And then.

Sam blinked, suddenly shoved back into the present. Sunlight streamed through the far window. He tried to remember more, tried to remember what happened next, but no matter how much he pushed, he drew a blank. After he remembered being thrown back by some unseen force, there was...nothing.

It all seemed surreal. Sam felt like he was floating between dreams. Like he couldn't be awake right now. He'd been really hoping that the events of last night had just been in his head, the stress of getting into law finally getting to him, and he'd wake up in his bed with Jess nestled in the crook of his neck, smiling gently up at him and kissing him softly on the cheek and telling him to cut the crap because he was going to worry himself into an early grave if he wasn't careful. God. Jess. What the hell was he going to do if Jess found out the truth? No, not if, when. Because they had to tell her. After last night, Sam couldn't hide it any longer. He couldn't hide who he was.

"Rise and shine, Sammy-boy!" Sam looked up to see Dean's head poking out from around the corner to look back at him. The sheer fact that his brother was here cemented the fact that everything that happened last night was real. Sam wanted so badly to pull over the covers and hide like a scared little kid, but he knew he couldn't. It wouldn't be fair to either Jess or Dean at this point. He sighed and sat up. Dean raised an eyebrow, taking in his rumpled appearance. Sam was suddenly very aware of how he must look to his brother, who was already dressed in dark, clean jeans and a Led Zeppelin shirt.

His eyes softened just a fraction, like he could suddenly read Sam's mind and knew what was bothering him. He turned away, hating the pity in Dean's eyes. He heard the floor creak under his brother's heavy boots as he stepped into the room.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Dean asked, his voice low enough that Sam could have pretended not to have heard him.

It wasn't in Sam's nature to ignore his brother though (which was an ironic statement considering all he'd been trying to do for the past fours year was ignoring him). But now that they were in the same room, it was like Dean was a beacon in the vast sea and Sam the drowning man seeking salvation. He turned back around and found himself drawn to Dean despite himself. The green eyes that haunted his dreams were the same as ever, though now there was a hint of worry in them Sam wished wasn't there. Dean was still staring at him, clearly waiting for him to answer. Sam cleared his throat, licking his suddenly dry lips. What could he say? He wasn't okay, far from it. One minute he'd been minding his own business, getting his life together. He'd been thinking of ways to try and propose to Jess. He knew the moment he saw her she was it for him. The real deal. The large house and dog, the white picket fences, living as a lawyer and working those grueling hours, it would all be worth it if he could just keep Jess. He didn't care how it'd come out looking to his brother, if Dean made fun of him for wanting the apple pie life, the kind of life that both of them had briefly thought was unattainable when mom died and dad dragged the both of them into a life of nightmares.

He remembered laying in bed one night when he was fifteen, thinking that he'd have to drop out of school eventually and take up hunting as a full time gig like dad. But then it occurred to him even during the year mom died and Dean was in his junior year of high school, he remembered thinking, Dean could've easily given up on school, could've made some sorry half ass excuse that he was doing bigger things, better things with his life, that no one cared about books and numbers, Sammy, when there were horrific things in the dark that were killing real people. In truth, he knew deep down, Dean felt the same way about school as he did, that it was the one real chance they had to get away from all this, all the crap they'd been dealt with. School wasn't just a place where Sam could learn about things, it was an escape. And Dean felt the same way once upon a time, whether he would admit it or not.

He knew his brother felt the same way. He'd seen the scholarships and the letters, he'd seen his brother hover over applying to a college far away from where they'd been staying, pretending he needed to borrow Dean's laptop for an assignment. The browser wasn't closed all the way like Dean probably thought and he'd caught a glimpse. He tried to bring it up. Tried to bring up the fact that Dean was just like him, only better at hiding it. It was all a long time ago and he wasn't sure just how much of that Dean was left. When he looked at Dean now all he saw was his brother as a hunter, the same as their dad. He wanted to ask Dean about it, if he ever went to college, maybe slipped in a few online courses while he was on the road but he knew now wasn't the time. It was just an excuse to prolong looking at the obvious elephant in the room. He swallowed, looking around the room again, knowing Jess wasn't going to magically appear, but it momentarily distracted him from Dean's worried gaze. "I'm fine," he finally said.

It was a lie and they both knew it. Dean sighed. "Right. And I love cake more than pie," he said in a deadpan. If Sam didn't know that was a downright lie about his brother, he probably would have believed him. "Look, man, I get it. You probably didn't expect to see your wayward brother showing up at your door at midnight last night. I know this wasn't how you pictured we'd meet again-" (actually it was close enough to what he'd imagined) "-if you ever thought you'd see me again that is." Dean smiled but it looked forced and sad. It made him look older, tired, like he'd been carrying around a weight on his shoulders for years. "I know you probably think of me as a screw up." The words came out quiet and Sam found his eyes widening. Dean was still looking at him. He wanted to say something, to protest, but Dean continued on. "I let you walk out on us that night. I watched as you got on that bus and never looked back, just as dad demanded you do. I should've fought harder to keep the three of us together. We're family, right? I'm sorry, Sam. I really am. And now here I am screwing your life up once again." When Dean finally stopped rambling, Sam just sat and stared, having no idea how to respond to his brother.

He had no idea that Dean thought that night had been his fault. Sam had been so pissed off with their dad. He remembered getting on the bus with one thought in mind and it had nothing to do with Dean and everything to do with getting back at dad. He'd been rebellious, hating how after mom died, their lives were flipped upside down. Up was down, left was right. Nothing was the same and Sam hated it. He hated the new found knowledge he had of things that could kill people with just a thought, that there were such malicious forces out there that lived on the suffering of others, and he wasn't talking about people doing bad things to other people. It was worse than that. Way worse.

He found himself stumbling to his feet. Dean watched him wearily. He wanted so badly to reach out and pull Dean into a hug. Fuck his 'no chick flick moment policy'. He never realized just how critical his brother was of himself but he should have known. There was the occasional self-deprecating joke but they hadn't been often enough to alarm Sam to his brother's inner turmoil. 'You freaking idiot,' he wanted to say as he reached out to grab onto Dean, swaying slightly as his knees threatened to buckle, 'you stupid, stupid, jerk. It wasn't about leaving you behind. It was about getting away from dad and the hunting life. Getting so far away that it would be just like a bad dream.' He couldn't seem to form the words no matter how much he wanted to.

He wasn't sure who was anchoring who at this point but it didn't matter. He had to tell Dean just how wrong he was. He didn't think Dean was a screw up. He didn't screw up by letting Sam climb up on that bus. It had been his choice after all. He walked up those stairs all on his own. He wanted this. And Dean just saved his life. Both his and Jess's. He was grateful for that. Even when he didn't understand what was happening in the moment. Even though he still couldn't quite wrap his head around it. He knew, though, Dean had saved them.

Just as he was gathering the courage to admit to Dean that he was far from the screw up he thought he was, Jess walked into the room with a plate of delicious smelling bacon and eggs piled high on a couple pieces of toast. She looked from one brother to the other and raised an eyebrow. "Was I interrupting something?"

Sam jumped from Dean so quickly he tripped and fell flat on his ass. "Jess!"

"Not at all," Dean said at the same time, glancing over at Sam with a look that was half amused and half concern. "Come on, little bro, let me help you up." He grabbed Sam's arm without asking and hauled him up effortlessly. He wrinkled his nose as he took in a dramatic sniff. "You know, you kind of smell, Sammy. Why don't you grab a shower and then we can have that, uh, conversation." He glanced back at Jess and Sam followed his gaze. Jess stared back at him for a second before realizing what she was doing and turning around to walk over to the coffee table at the far end of the room. From the way his brother and girlfriend looked at each other, Sam knew something was up. He wasn't sure how to feel about the small exchange. One part of him was happy that they weren't at odds with each other, that Jess wasn't on the floor in hysterics over what happened last night, but another part felt a little betrayed. They clearly talked to each other without him present. He knew Jess was her own person and Dean was too. They had a right to talk to each other without including Sam, but if it had anything to do with the supernatural, and considering what happened to Jess last night, it more than likely did, he should've been included. He had a right to be included. Dean's grip on his arm tightened enough for Sam to blink. He stared at Dean. "Seriously, Sam. I'm not going to say anything that isn't necessary for Jess to know without you being present."

Sam zeroed on the word 'necessary'. "What did you tell her already?"

Dean finally let go of him and took a step back as he studied him. He shrugged after a moment. "Not much. I just answered a few questions she had about last night. She thought she was going crazy at first because come on, Sam, she was just possessed. So I told her the truth, that she was completely and utterly sane. Anyways, Sam, seriously. You stink. Go shower and then we can both fill your girlfriend in on the nitty gritty parts." Before Sam could think to protest, Dean gave him a light shove toward the bathroom. "Oh," Dean shot him a gentle smile, "and you'll get to finally experience what a real breakfast tastes like."

It took a moment for Sam to process what Dean just said and once it sunk in that breakfast was not actually take-out from some random diner, he couldn't help but stare at Dean in disbelief. "Wait. You cook? Since when?"

He almost missed the flash of hurt that crossed Dean's face. When he blinked, there was a good natured grin on his brother's face. "I'm hurt, Sammy. I've always cooked. Not as much since mom died but I can still make scrambled eggs and bacon. Breakfast for champions, you know. Anyways get going. Quit stinking up the room." He didn't wait for Sam to respond as he turned away and made a beeline for the little kitchenette.

Sam turned around, realizing Dean wasn't going to let him stall anymore. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. For a moment, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. It was time to stop acting like a little kid. He wasn't one anymore, hadn't been one in a long time. But he didn't want to face the truth. He didn't want to have to face Jess and tell her that almost everything he told her was a lie. He may want a normal life and her, but clearly that wasn't in the cards because he was just a freak that attracted danger everywhere he went. He would be putting her life in danger if he stayed with her. He had been putting her life in danger. Would she even want him after she was given all the facts?

He sighed before slowly turning to the shower.

It was finally time to face the music.