Here's the next chapter, right on time no less! A few people pointed out that the shoes on telephone wires actually have to do with drugs, so I apologize for that mistake. My friend told me a while ago that someone had stolen her shoes while she was walking home so I just assumed. I would correct it but I need them to stay there, so sorry if that isn't true to RL.
On that note, many of you were curious as to Dean's reaction to the shoes. Drop me a review and tell me what you think (I do so love reviews)
Beta: Little Miss Artist
Warnings: See chapter 1
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Word Count: 2,110
Chapter: 4/21
Next Update: Friday
Textus
Chapter 4: A New Lonely
The water danced of Sam's shoulders as he stood under the warm spray of the shower. Another upside of having a real house was the hot water. There was far more hot water there than in any motel.
Sam was exhausted and achy and, at that moment, wanted nothing more than to lie down and take a long nap. But that'd draw the unwanted attention of Dean and John, which was not something Sam needed. Besides, it was only Wednesday, Sam still had two whole days to make it through before the weekend came.
After stumbling out of the shower, Sam pulled on some comfy PJs and headed into the kitchen to start on his homework.
It wasn't very long before Dean came home, already looking steamed over something or other. He stormed over to the fridge, grabbed a beer and leaned up against the counter.
"Nice to see you too," Sam said lightly without looking up. Even though Sam himself wasn't in a great mood, he didn't want to get into another fight, especially since it would most likely last longer than the last one.
Dean snorted before taking a long swig of the amber liquid. The lack of witty retort caught Sam's attention and he looked up.
"Planning on bolting or something?" Sam joked as he realized Dean was still wearing his jacket and shoes.
But Dean only scowled. Apparently, tonight was just not a night for humor.
"I just meant that you were still wearing your jacket and shoes," Sam clarified quickly. Dean immediately looked down, apparently unaware of his own clothing. He made some sort of grunt noise before making his way back over to the front door. Off went the jacket and Dean slung it on the small rack there. He kicked his shoes off then paused, staring at the floor like it was some mysterious puzzle.
"Where are my shoes?" Dean asked. For a second, Sam was worried Dean was either seriously stoned or had received some type of brain damage between now and that morning when Sam had last seen him.
"What are you talking about? They're right…" Sam trailed off as he realized his mistake. Dean wasn't talking about the shoes he was wearing. He was talking about the ones Sam had been wearing. Damn. Sam was planning on just avoiding the topic and hoping Dean would forget that Sam had borrowed them and it wouldn't come up for a few months until Dean realized they were gone. Then Sam could easily say they had accidently been left behind at one of their many stops. He wasn't prepared to handle this so soon. Sam mentally cursed himself for inadvertently starting the shoe conversation.
"Well?" Dean demanded. Sam suddenly became aware his mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it.
Sam mumbled something inaudibly before going back to his homework.
"What?" Dean snapped as he sat down across from Sam.
"I, um…lost them."
"What? How do you lose something on your feet?" Dean gawked.
"I don't know," Sam mumbled.
"What the hell, Sam? Dad is gonna be fucking pissed!"
"It's not like they fit anyway," Sam snapped back, getting defensive.
"Well, apparently they fit you good enough!" Dean growled. "They could have had sentimental value, Sam!"
"Sentimental value? Since when does anything have sentimental value to you?" Perhaps that wasn't a hundred percent true. The amulet hanging on Dean's neck could attest to that, but still they were just ratty sneakers.
Sam suddenly realized that Dean didn't really care how John would react or that the sneakers themselves were lost. What he really cared about was the fact that Sam had apparently been so careless with something of Dean's. Even if it wasn't something really important to Dean, Sam had borrowed the shoes, then, as far as Dean knew, discarded them without much thought.
Sam tried to think of a retort, but was stopped short when the door opened again. John stepped in, wet from the rain. Sam wondered where he had been. Dean had the car since he'd driven Sam to school and himself to work, so John had walked to wherever it had been.
Without a word, John walked into his room and walked back out a few minutes later carrying a bag.
"Where you going?" Sam asked.
"A hunt in the next town over. I'll be back in a few days. Caleb's picking me up because he's working it with me so the impala can stay here." And without another word he left.
Sam was rather stung by the shortness of it. A few days? That could mean anything from two days to ten days. He used to be more specific, but now that Dean had a job, John didn't have to worry about leaving enough money, so therefore no longer had to keep to a stricter schedule. And the next town over? There weren't on the coast, for crying out loud. They were surrounded by towns. John had given them practically no information whatsoever. Not to mention the abruptness of it all.
Sam turned a disbelieving look to Dean to see if he was on the same page as Sam, but Dean just rolled his eyes and disappeared into his own room.
An unknown feeling rose up in Sam, but he stomped down on it and stormed back to his room. He had more homework to do anyway.
Feeling tired, he pulled out his biology homework. Having not paid attention, Sam couldn't answer almost any of the questions and his notes were useless. He stared at the small flower in the corner and mulled over the thought of art class. It certainly sounded like fun, as long as Dean didn't find out.
"I'm going out," Dean growled from the other side of the door. Footsteps sounded as he made his way back down the hall. Sam scrambled up from his bed and flung himself at the door, narrowly missing smacking his head on the wall.
"Wait!" he called as he stumbled out and down the hallway. "Wait!" He called again as he dashed into the kitchen, sliding slightly when his socks couldn't get grip on the tile.
"What?" Dean snapped.
"I just…where are you going?" Sam wasn't exactly sure what he'd come to do. Apologize? Argue more? Whatever it was, Sam was pretty sure it wasn't just to find out where Dean was going. Probably a bar.
"A date," Dean said simply before turning to leave.
"Wait!" Sam called, leaping forward to stop his brother.
"Now what?" Dean asked impatiently.
"Um…what time will you be back?" For a second Dean looked as though Sam had spontaneously grown another head.
"I don't know, whenever I decide to come back." Sam couldn't think of anything else to say so he let Dean leave without further interruption.
Even though he wasn't sure what he wanted to say, Sam silently cursed himself for not saying it.
The feeling from before rose up in Sam and this time he could identify it.
Loneliness.
A new, bone-crushing, soul-smothering loneliness. Sure he'd been home alone before, sometimes days at a time while John and Dean went on hunts. But this was…different somehow. It was a different feeling knowing John and Dean were both gone and most likely mad at him; that both of them weren't likely in any kind of hurry to get back and have to deal with Sam. Hopefully whatever busty broad Dean had found for himself would be enough to help him calm down and forget the damn shoes.
After a dinner of cold pizza, Sam stretched out on the couch and watched something on the small TV. He couldn't draw at night. Drawing allowed his imagination to run wild and that wasn't something a hunter really wanted to allow while home alone at night.
A glance at the clock revealed it to be a little after eight. Dean wasn't back yet. Sam was confident that Dean most likely wouldn't be back until some un-Godly hour in the morning.
Sam dragged the blue throw off the back of the couch and covered himself up.
It was cold, really cold, as Sam walked along the desolate street. The houses on the sides were all painted black and were quite decrypt. For some reason his footfalls echoes loudly like it was the only sound in the empty place. It wasn't raining but the street was wet with many overly-large puddles.
On his left, between two houses was the brown dog. It looked exactly the same as before, it's head even tilted the same way. It let out a small whimper.
"Finish me," a voice chorused in Sam's ear. And just like that the dog disappeared.
"Hey, New Kid!" The voice sounded weird, more powerful than usual, yet it seemed to be whispered right in his ear. Sam turned around while a strange fear pulsed through his veins. He could hear his heart-beat echoing loudly in his ear.
Mike was right in front of him, arm pulled back to strike. Sam couldn't move, it was like someone had glued him in his position. The punch came down hard across Sam's cheek. It split open and a few droplets of blood rained down into the puddle below, creating weird pink spots in the water. The next punch seemed to come with an unnatural force and Sam went over backwards, landing in a large puddle.
The noises were getting louder and louder in his ear. The dog, Mike, his own heart beat. Sam wanted to throw his hands up and cover his ears. A headache was creeping up from all the noise and now the added pain from the punches.
Mike was above him, seeming far taller than actually possible. Suddenly Sam was sinking in the puddle like it was some great lake. Sam struggled to stay on the top but the water was wrapping around him, pulling him down. Mike laughed loudly as Sam began to slip under.
Finally Sam's eyes found the one person he wanted to see. Dean was kneeling on one side of the puddle-turned-lake. Relief crashed through Sam and he shot a hand out. He grabbed onto Dean's arm and pulled his head back above water. Dean's eyes seemed to flash with emotion for a moment.
"Don't be selfish!" He hissed before sliding his arm out of Sam's grasp. He stood up and started to walk away.
"No! Dean! Come back! Help!" Sam's words drowned out as he slipped below the surface again. His muscles ached from trying to stay above and his chest felt like it was on fire. No matter how hard Sam kicked, the surface only got further away. The icy water surrounded him, dragging him to his grave.
His vision was starting to cloud over…
His head started to throb…
Arms and legs burning…
Chest on fire…
No air…
Sam yelped as he shot straight up on the couch. His breathing was ragged like he was still drowning and couldn't get enough air. It couldn't have been more than an hour or so because the same cheesy cartoon was still playing.
Realizing the house was empty and there was still no big brother there to comfort him, he once again was hit with just how alone he felt. As childish as it was, Sam wanted his brother, plain and simple.
Shakily, he got to his feet and flicked off the TV. Leaving the living room light on, Sam walked down the hall, still wrapped in the blue blanket.
He crawled into his small bed and stared at the ceiling for another two hours until Dean came home. Sam wanted nothing more than to go to his brother and apologize and spill his guts about everything, but he just couldn't. Not now, with the nightmare so fresh in his mind. He knew it was foolish, but in reality, Dean was the only person he couldn't handle rejection from.
Dean poked his head into Sam's room as he passed by on his way to bed. Sam closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. Dean, being Dean, would most likely not fall for it, but he would at least get the message and for now that might just be enough.
"Sam?" he called softly. Don't say anything, Sam told himself. He couldn't, not now. Tomorrow, maybe, he'd go to his brother and apologize for the sneakers and Dean would apologize for snapping and everything would be good. But not now while he was still so vulnerable. The nightmare would bring up questions. Questions which Sam couldn't answer. He was far too tired to put up a front and lie about what it was about or dismiss it as not important.
Dean sighed softly before crossing the hall to his own room and softly shutting the door. Sam turned on his side and curled into a small ball.
He was still lonely.
TBC…
Review Replies
TinTin11: I'm pretty sure you're not the only one whose mornings get crazy like that :) Whenever I see the shoes, I do the same thing wondering who and what and all that great stuff. Thanks for reviewing (as you always do :)
Gord and V: Well there's your answer to whether Sam will tell him and how Dean will react. Hopefully it lived up to your expectations. And, unfortunately for Sam, he won't be catching any breaks for quite a while because I'm just mean like that (and because it makes for a good Sam story) Thanks for reviewing!
1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG: Glad you feel strongly against Mike, that makes me happy. Thanks for sending me a PM with your revenge ideas, you certainly got me thinking. You'll just have to wait to find out more about the shoes but rest assured they'll come back up.
Brielle-W: Thanks for letting me know that about the shoes, I would go back and change it but it's important to the story, so try to see past that for now. Thanks for reviewing!
supernaturalrenegade: So now you know Dean's reaction. Did you like it? Poor Sammy just can't catch a break! I think everyone has those rushed mornings now and again. I actually knew they were called trainers in England (thanks to Harry Potter) so now I feel all proud of myself for knowing that. The book is awesome by the way.
Cartoon Cow: Well thank you for making me laugh and for sending Arikae over to this story. That was a nice little conversation between you and Sam (and sort of Dean). Thanks for R & R ing! P.S. for some reason I got your review twice…strange.
judyann: What'd you think of Dean's reaction? Did it live up to your expectations? The scene between the teacher and Sam about art is one of my favorites for some reason, so I'm glad you liked it as well.
jayfeather63: Don't worry about not reviewing, I know how easy it is to get distracted and forget to do it. Hm, I haven't seen any shirts, wonder what that's about.
Onthis: Thanks for letting me know about the drugs and thanks for reviewing!
casammy: Dean is most certainly not going to be happy, I can tell you that much. Is that quote from the Benders? That's the only one I can think of but I could be wrong. Thanks for reviewing!
MysteryMadchen: Very interesting guesses, a few of them are very close, but you'll just have to wait to see which ones. Also, there won't be any suicide in this story, though that is a good idea for another story…hmm… Anyway, thanks for your review, it's always fun to see what the readers think will happen then see their reaction to what actually happened (though you're not far off in a few cases).
Sparkiebunny, lizzieten, caz21: Thanks for reviewing and I hoped you liked this chapter just as much!