Sam cursed at himself lightly as he watched his brother disappear into the bathroom. He'd really fucked things up this time. It's one thing to walk away from the only person you've ever really loved, and who loves you - just not in the same way. But it's another to try and shoot that same person. You can always beg for them to take to you back, when you leave. What the hell would Sam have done if that gun had been loaded? Not that it mattered much, it was all pretty much the same. He'd pulled the trigger, that's all that mattered. Sam lay down on the bed closest to the wall on his stomach and gathered the pillow to himself, using it to prop himself up so he could stare at the headboard. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but somewhere between guessing where one scratch in the headboard came from, to the next, he'd fallen asleep.
"Oh god Sammy. Are you alright?" Dean asked as he rushed to his brother's side. Sam had just been thrown through a plated glass window by a particularly vicious poltergeist.
Sam tried to lean up and prop himself up on his elbow, but only ended up crying out in pain. A piece of the glass was now protruding from his left shoulder. "God dammit this hurts." Sam hissed out between his teeth.
"Here, let me take it out." Dean said and then carefully wrapped his fingers around the glass and started to pull. He stopped when he heard the blood curdling scream that escaped Sam's lips.
"I think it went all the way through." Sam said as he gasped, trying to return his breathing rate to normal. He knew that the faster he was breathing, the faster his body was pumping blood out of his body. And Sam wasn't sure how much blood he had lost, but it couldn't be a good sign that his vision was starting to turn black.
The next thing Sam remembered was waking up on a very uncomfortable bed. He tried to lean up, and hissed slightly at the pain that shot through his now bandaged shoulder. Dean chose that moment to walk into the room, sipping a cup of coffee.
"Hey you." Dean said with a grin on his face. "Wasn't sure how long you'd be out." He said as he came and sat down on the edge of Sam's bed.
"How long was I out for?" Sam asked as he realized that he felt drugged, he looked up questioningly at Dean.
"We had to give you a couple of doses of Morphine, cause of the blood loss, your body was going into shock." Dean explained as he pushed back a few strands of hair that were hanging down in Sam's face. Sam's eyes flickered shut for a moment before he opened them quickly and looked away. Dean removed his hand and cleared his throat. "You've been out for five days now." Dean said nonchalantly.
"Where's dad at?" Sam asked as he looked around, not seeing any evidence that their father was there.
"There was a job in two towns over, and he went ahead to do it. He'll be back tonight." Dean said nonchalantly. And Sam didn't have to ask to know that Dean had stayed by his bedside the entire time.
"Dude, it's gonna leave a nasty scar." Sam said as he glanced at his bandaged shoulder.
"Hey no worries, chicks dig scars." Dean said grinning and Sam just smiled at Dean and leaned his head back against the headboard.
"Sam?" Dean asked as he made his way out of the bathroom, causing Sam to stir from his light sleep. Sam rolled over and stretched.
"Yeah?" Sam asked over a yawn.
"Oh, you were asleep? I'm sorry. I didn't know." Dean said as he turned out the bathroom light.
"Nah, it's ok. I was just thinking about that poltergeist that gave me the scar in my shoulder. It never did fade, like most of the others..." Sam said shrugging slightly.
Dean nodded. "Yeah, we got a bunch of those. But I was right about chicks digging scars, wasn't I?" Dean grinned, and suddenly Sam remembered the new set of scars that Dean was sure to have from the rock salt. He stood up quickly and walked over to Dean, he could barely see his brother's chest in the moonlight from the windows, so he placed his hand gently on Dean's chest. He ran his fingers gingerly up and down Dean's chest, memorizing each and every little wound. He looked up into Dean's eyes and saw the same hurt expression he'd seen the day he'd told him and their father that he was going to Stanford.
"You gotta do what you gotta do." Dean had simply said and then patted him on the shoulder and walked away. Sam had stood in the middle of the room dumbfounded for god only knows how long. And then he'd moved, strictly on automatic, to his room and shut the door. He'd slid down the length of his door and brought his knees up to his chest. Then he'd started crying.
He had pretty much more or less, expected the reaction he had gotten from his father. But he had expected Dean to put up some kind of fight. To tell Sam that he was foolish and that he belonged with him. And their dad, of course. To scream and yell at him until they were both crying and holding each other.
But none of that had ever happened. And that's when Sam had known that he'd made the right decision to go to Stanford. When Dean had kissed him that night over two years ago, Sam had already had feelings for Dean. But he knew they were wrong, and he had always had it in his head that if he'd told Dean how he felt, Dean would be the strong one. Dean was the one who would remind him just how wrong it was. Dean wasn't supposed to be the one kissing him. And Dean especially wasn't supposed to be the one who had all but said that he wanted what Sam wanted. Even though Dean would never know that Sam had wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Dean and deepen the kiss. And over the last two years, things had changed. And Sam had started to think that maybe that night by the campfire had been a fluke. And that even if Sam could get past them being brothers that it was apparent that Dean couldn't. And Dean had proved that tonight by showing that he didn't love Sam anymore than he had to. And that was the kind of scar that never went away.
Sam had sat there crying until he hadn't had anymore tears to cry. Then he had gotten up off the floor and threw everything he owned into one duffel bag and left his family, his brother behind him. What reasons were there to stay?
"Sam?" Dean asked, his voice low and husky as it snapped Sam back into reality. Sam could see Dean swallow hard and lick his lips in the darkness of the room. Sam took a deep breath and ran his hand up Dean's chest and let it move to lie against the back of Dean's neck and he took a step closer to his brother. He looked deep into Dean's eyes, and Sam could almost swear that he saw fear there. It took Sam a second to realize what Dean was afraid of. So to answer Dean's unspoken question, he leaned in and gently brushed his lips against Dean's.