Moving On
Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, nor do Dean, Sam, or the other characters you recognise. I am making no money so please don't come looking for me.
Warning: some violence as the story progresses
Spoilers - post-end of Series 1 Devil's Trap so some passing mention of events in Season episodes such as Faith, Home, Devil's Trap etc.
Author's Note: Depending which episode I have watched most recently, my feelings about John Winchester vary. If you are a fan of JW - don't read and flame - this story for reasons best known to itself was not kind to him - if that is going to upset you, please don't read on.
Author's Note (2): Thanks as ever to Rae Artemis for betaing in the face of adversity no matter how strange and piecemeal the story arrives at your inbox!
Chapter Two - Fighting Back
The boys fought earlier. I got a taste of what it may have been like when Sam was a teenager fighting with John. I know Dean started the actual argument but it was Sam who had backed him into a corner. Sam forced him into a conversation with Missouri, a conversation he wasn't prepared for. It brought to the surface his insecurities and vulnerability. Along with it, it brought anger.
Dean accused Sam of interfering, poking his nose where it wasn't wanted, meddling like an old crone with nothing better to do and conspiring with Missouri, the old witch.
The thing is even when Dean was loud and outspoken before all this, he always retained some sense of propriety and he wouldn't have called Missouri a witch within her hearing. Sam leapt in at that. How simple it would have been for him to apologise and defuse the situation but not Sam.
Having decided that Dean should speak to Missouri, he leapt in unthinking, said things he shouldn't, misguided, badly phrased. He managed to call Dean a selfish son-of-a-bitch, unheeding of the help people were offering. Sam accused him of wallowing in self-pity, unable to face up to the truth, not strong enough to face what his life really was.
It isn't that there aren't grains of truth in some of what Sam says, but after a lifetime of pain and suffering, Dean is entitled to some selfishness and a refusal to deal with things immediately. Dean needs time but Sam is impatient. He wants the brother he has always known back.
The accusations flew back and forth until Dean faltered, stopped and looked wide-eyed at his brother. I saw the fear lurking from my position in one doorway. Sam either didn't look or didn't see for he continued unabated. It was the final comments that pushed Dean over the edge. "I don't want to be around your selfish self-pity, Dean. I'll leave you to it. I can get myself a life. It's time you did. You're too old to need a babysitter." With that Sam left.
I understood what he was doing; he was trying to push Dean into being himself again. He headed for the car and without making eye-contact left. Dean followed to the steps where he held on. "Sam, please!" He paused, waiting for any reaction from his brother. "Sam. Don't go!" I was by his side as Sam left, I slowed his fall as he crumpled to the floor but I knew he wasn't hearing my words, couldn't feel my hands on his shoulder and back. The only thing he knew was what Sam had said, 'I can get myself a life. It's time you did."
Sam has unwittingly played into Dean's greatest fear, reinforced the demon's words, "They don't need you, not like you need them." The car is barely out of sight when Dean rushes for the bathroom. We spend the next hour there. I barely leave his side as he changes from vomiting to retching when nothing remains. Throughout he mutters to Sam, pleas to return and to forgive him. The fear and panic from the hospital is back and he can't control it. After an hour, he is exhausted and slumped against the side of the bath, defeated. I have sat here with him, passing him water to sip, trying to reassure him that Sam hasn't really gone, trying to give him the strength to fight the panic. He has given in now but I think he is resigned to Sam's absence rather than his ability to cope.
I watch as he pulls himself together enough to get himself to bed. Then I return to the kitchen to await Sam's appearance. I feel my frustration growing at him. Where is his understanding? His concern for his brother? I wonder how he can be so unaware of Dean's fragile state of mind.
Finally I heard the car pull up and Sam get out. I had heard no more from Dean in the last half an hour or more. I assumed he was sleeping but I hadn't been into check as I didn't want to risk disturbing him once he was calmer.