Here's the next chapter! Happy Valentine's Day, or as Dean calls it, Unattached Drifter Chrismas! Thanks for the reviews and everything. It always makes my day. I didn't get to respond to all the reviews, but to LeighAnnWallace and casammy, close, but no cigar. You're on the right track...
They drove into the town around noon, stomachs growling and backs aching, ready to stretch their legs. Dean parked in front of a small diner and opened the car door, the slam of it closing jarring Claire out of sleep.
"Last town Sam and I were at." He explained. "The men came this way too." Claire stretched her arms and followed Dean into the quaint restaurant, where the bell jingled to announce their entrance.
"Welcome!" A cheerful older woman exclaimed. "Table for two?" She smiled widely and Dean nodded. "Right this way."
She guided them to a booth in the corner. "What can I get you to drink?" She asked. "Uh, Coke?" Dean said. He doubted they had anything alcoholic. This place was friggin' Pleasantville. She scrawled something on her notepad. "And for you?"
"Iced tea, please." Claire ordered pleasantly. Dean raised his eyebrows and she shrugged. "What?"
Dean just chuckled. "Nothing." Claire let it go, thanking the waitress when she returned with the beverages.
Dean ordered a burger hungrily, and Claire got a Caesar salad, sending a pang of sadness through Dean at how Sam she looked with her healthy meal.
"Wait!" Dean called after the waitress when she dropped by to check on them.
"Yes?"
"Seen any men lately? Tough looking, large, tattoos?" The woman thought for a moment.
"You know, I do vaguely remember a couple passersby. We don't get many strangers in town." She added.
"Great!" Dean shared a look with Claire. "Could you point us in their direction?"
She shook her head. "Sorry, sir, but you could check with Smitty. He's the mechanic." Dean nodded in thanks.
"Can I getcha anything for dessert?" She suggested. "We've got a great apple pie you and your girl could share-"
"No! I mean, no, we're not dating." Dean stated. "Just friends."
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry." The waitress apologized wholeheartedly. She began to walk away.
"Wait!" She stopped in her tracks.
"I would take that apple pie."
...
The mechanic was waist deep under a car when Dean found him, grease stained and dirty and blaring some sort of music Dean hated.
"Hello?" Dean called over the noise. "S-smitty?" The man rolled put from under the car, his age surprising Dean. He was young, mid twenties, probably about Sam's age. He stood up and wiped his hands on his clothes.
"That's me. What can I do for you Mr..."
"Just Dean."
"Alright, Mr. 'Just Dean.' What's up?"
"Seen any men? Strangers, with tattoos and... Muscles? Big guys, really."
"Sure did. Fellas gave me a bit a trouble what with the cost o' their fixin' up."
"They came to get their car fixed?" Dean asked.
"Yessir, they did. But they didn't like the price."
"I see. You wouldn't happen to know where they were headed?"
Smitty snapped and pointed at Dean. "You're in luck, my friend. They said they needed their car right quickly, 'cause they were fixin' to head to Las Vegas- rotten idea if you ask me."
Dean nodded in thanks and waved to Claire across the street. Before long, they were stocked up and on their way to Vegas.
They hadn't been on the road that long when Dean decided to check up on Sam. Bobby answered.
"Hey, Sam."
"It's Bobby."
"Bobby? Why are you answering Sam's phone?" Dean's voice hinted the worry he instantly felt. Sam. Leukemia.
"He's not feelin' too good today." Bobby said softly. Dean figured Sam was beside him.
"Can I talk to him?" Dean asked.
"'Fraid not. He can barely sit up, let alone talk, without puking."
Dean sighed. The further he got from Sam, the more he missed him. The more he hated himself for leaving.
"Fine," He answered reluctantly.
...
Dean was constantly calling now, always getting a worried look from Claire and the same answer from Bobby: no. Sam didn't seem to be improving, and Dean was just about to turn the car around when Bobby said yes.
"What'd you say?"
"I said, you can talk to him, but make it quick. He's not in his right mind, so don't go worrying him."
"I won't." Dean replied. "Now hand over the phone!" Dean waited impatiently as Bobby handed the phone to Sam. He heard little tidbits of conversations as Sam seemed to be protesting, but he wouldn't, would he?
"Hello, Dean." Sam finally answered monotonously.
"Hi, how are you, Sam."
"I'm-" Sam pulled the phone away and coughed harshly. "Okay."
"Oh yeah, you seem fine."
"I am."
"I'm worried about you, Sammy!"
Sam didn't say anything. "Sammy? You okay?"
Sam was muttering something. "This isn't supposed to happen..." Dean heard.
"What's not supposed to happen?" He asked. What was Sam talking about? "'Course I'm worried about you, Sammy. I'm extremely worried. Not a day goes by when I'm not scared it'll be your last. And I can't let that happen, Sam." He sighed and glanced over at an anxious Claire listening to him. "Your my brother, and you're my responsibility, not that I mind. I've had this naive idea that you'll never die, never even come close." He chuckled sadly. "But you've been diagnosed and now... I don't know why I left but-"
"I do." Sam interrupted.
"I know what you're going to say. Because I wanted revenge. Because my emotions were overwhelming. Because-"
"No." Sam interrupted again.
Dean sighed and hit his hand against the steering wheel, causing Claire to jump with a start. "Come on, I'm pouring out my heart, here. You're the one always telling me to wear my heart on my sleeve, so-"
"No, Dean. I know why you left." He coughed and didn't start his train of thought again, leaving Dean listening to the faint beeping sound on Sam's end of the line. "You left because... I made you leave."
Now Sam thought it was his fault Dean left. This was getting worse and worse. Because it wasn't Sam's fault. It was his, this foolish idea that Sam would be better off without him.
"Because... I put a spell on you." Sam said. Dean's jaw dropped. "What?"
"A- a witch. I looked through Bobby's contacts, found a good one that seemed helpful." Dean stopped the car and turned on the emergency light, pulling over to the side of the highway so he could fully pay attention to what Sam had to say.
"She kept you away, Dean. Sent you to kill those guys you wanted to kill." His voice got low and shaky and barely audible. "I thought it would be good for you. I thought it would make you feel better. It was supposed to stop you from worrying. You get dangerous when you worry. Almost suicidal." He whispered now. "The further away you got from me, the more worried you seemed to get, like the spell had more effect the closer we were together."
"Dammit, Sammy!" Dean cussed, though he was more frustrated than mad. It was impossible be angry with his baby brother at a time like this.
"I can't reverse it." Sam whimpered. "I-I tried. Asked. And I don't know what happens when you get close, but apparently it's not good."
Dean sighed.
"I'm so sorry." Sam whispered. "I was sorry, the minute after I called. But it was too late."
Dean was silent.
"Dean?" Sam said. "Dean, I know you're there. So... Find those sons of bitches and kill 'em and... I'll hold down the fort 'till we figure this out." Dean didn't say a word, for fear of not being comprehensible.
"I miss you, Dean. Don't do something irrational, okay? Dean?" Dean stared ahead with the phone still in his hand, unsure what to think. What feelings were his, and what were just from the curse?
"Fine... Don't answer." Sam choked. His voice was raspy and uneven. "I'm so sorry." Sam hung up and Dean slowly pulled the phone down. He knew it was an accident, a hasty decision Sam had made for Dean's benefit. He'd been angry at himself for just leaving Sam like that, but now he knew why.
And it was funny, he thought, wasn't it? That Dean had spent his whole life protecting Sam and attempting to leave his side as little as possible, and that the one time his little brother had tried to return the favor he'd messed it up miserably. It was funny, wasn't it? No, he decided. It was a far cry from even worth a chuckle. This was nothing they would laugh about later, after everything was said and done. That is, if either of them got out of this alive.
So, what did you guys think about Sam's mistake? This kind of changes Dean's perspective on, well, everything. If you get a chance, you could always review right friggin' now ;) I hope you got that reference. Otherwise I seem really mean! :) Anyway, I'll add next Tuesday!