Totally didn't forget I'm writing two stories at the same time... shameless plug, go check out White Picket Fence
Long Live BRUCAS: haha of course the show went well! I'm not totally cruel lol
On with the show!
A/N This chapter deals with teenage depression and thoughts of suicide and other related topics. Not explicit or written out, but is mentioned. I'll try to keep it like that for the rest of the story and will let you know otherwise.
Sam grumbled as he walked across the parking lot to the auto shop. What he was saying, he didn't even know. It didn't even sound like words.
He bitterly stomped up to the door and threw it open.
"Howdy son!" an older gentleman behind the counter greeted. "What can I do ya for?"
"I'm here to pick up my stupid brother's stupid paycheck," Sam answered.
"Lemme guess, you're Sammy."
Sam gave the man a look like yeah, duh, obviously. The man reached under the counter and pulled out a lockbox. He then reached for a key in his pocket and unlocked the box. Sam impatiently fiddled with the small gadgets sitting on the counter as the man flipped through envelopes. He saw a cool retractable mirror used for finding things in hard-to-reach areas and played with it.
"Winchester comma Dean," he announced. "Here ya go sport. Hope he has a good trip with your old man."
Sam snatched the envelope and muttered a "bye" as he left the shop. Dean left town the night before and wasn't able to pick up his paycheck, hence him calling Sam earlier that morning and asking ever so nicely to do it for him.
One bus trip and a mile walk down a dirt road later, Sam finally arrived back at Bobby's. He let the screen door slam behind him.
"Hey!" Bobby yelled from the den. "Where'd you run off to?"
Sam entered the den and slammed the envelope on the desk. Bobby stared at it, perplexed.
"I said I would get it for him," Bobby reminded Sam. Sam shrugged his shoulders and began to leave the room again. "Hey!" Bobby called after him. Sam huffed and turned back around.
"What?"
"What the hell's going on with you?"
Sam pretended to think about it. "Nothing?"
"Then what's this sour attitude you have all of a sudden?"
Sam didn't have an answer. "I dunno... just tired I guess."
"Tired?" Bobby repeated.
Sam nodded. "I think I'm going to lie down for a bit."
Bobby studied the boy. "Okay. Go lie down. I'll wake you for lunch."
Sam slowly made his way up the steps; Bobby watching him the entire time. When he heard the bedroom door latch, he walked over to his phone and dialed a number.
"Yello?"
"Something's wrong with your brother."
There was a shuffling noise on the line, followed by a door closing. "What are you talking about? He was fine last night."
"Not after you left."
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know yet. I just know that ever since you left, he's being acting weird. He picked up your paycheck and now he's saying he's tired and going to lie down? That doesn't strike you as odd?"
Dean sighed on the line. "No, you're right. That doesn't sound like Sam."
Bobby hummed into the phone.
"You think Sam's hurt because I left? He knows the drill with Dad. Besides, he told me he was fine with it."
"Maybe there's something more to it?" Bobby suggested.
There was a pause on the line before Dean started whispering. "Do I need to come back?"
"No, you go help your dad," Bobby answered, fearing how well that might go over for Dean. "I'll see if I can't get something out of him."
"Thanks Bobby. Keep me posted."
Bobby hung up the phone and sighed. Even though Sam was the more sensitive of the two, he didn't take too well to talk about what was going on with him.
Bobby secretly wished Dean was here.
A couple hours passed. Bobby made his way upstairs with a sandwich and chips. He knocked lightly on the bedroom door.
"Sam? You up?"
Not hearing a response, he cracked open the door. Sam was sitting at the foot of his bed staring out the window.
"Whatcha looking at?" Bobby asked gently.
"Did you know you have a family of birds in the tree out there?" Sam asked.
"That I didn't," Bobby said, continuing his way into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed next to Sam.
"Yeah right there," Sam said, placing his finger on the window and pointing out to the tree Dean likes to park under to keep Baby in the shade.
Bobby hummed. "Interesting." He handed Sam the plate. "Made ya lunch. Case you're hungry."
Sam smiled lightly and took the plate. He was hungry, considering he hadn't eaten since before the show last night. He started munching on the chips as he and Bobby stared at the birds flying around.
"Called your brother," Bobby said suddenly. "Sounds like he and your dad have already figured it out," he lied, "so he could be home sooner than we expected."
"That's good," Sam commented, starting to pick at the bread.
"I made you that to eat, not play with."
Sam took a bite out of the sandwich.
Bobby threw his arm around Sam and rubbed his hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam was confused by the gesture.
"You know you and Dean are welcome here anytime," Bobby said. Sam recognized the seriousness in his tone.
"We know."
"I mean it. I like it when you two are here. Even if there's other things going on."
Sam started to dread where this conversation was headed. He suddenly felt nauseous and set the sandwich to the side.
"What's going on Sam? And don't feed me any of that nothing crap."
Ah yes, there it was.
Overwhelmed with Bobby's kindness and concern, Sam started to tear up.
"My life sucks," Sam said, barely whispering.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because it does! My first real friend died and no one fucking cared more than two seconds! And now I feel guilty for having feelings for another girl, like our relationship didn't even matter! And everyone's just moved on and I'm still stuck here and Dean didn't even notice because he's too busy with work or hanging out with Dani! I wish he just left with Dad and never came back!"
"Now you wait a minute," Bobby said, his stern, serious tone returning. "Your brother killed himself over what happened to your friend. He tried to be there for you through all that. And he has sacrificed a lot over the years for you, dammit. He's allowed to have a life of his own too, ya know?"
Sam felt guilty now. He knew Dean had missed out on a lot because of him. And it built a pit in his stomach that nothing could fill.
Sam fought hard to stop his tears. "It still sucks."
Bobby sighed. "I know you two have a different relationship than normal siblings... but how can you sit there and say that Dean doesn't care about you?"
"Because it feels like it!"
"Are we talking about the same brother who fought your dad to stay in town long enough to see your little show? Because a brother who doesn't care wouldn't have done that."
"If he cared, he wouldn't have gone anyway!"
"And if he left with John when he turned eighteen?"
Sam scoffed. He rubbed his hands on his face, attempting to dry his tears quickly. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand."
"Oh really?" Bobby asked, getting fed up with Sam's attitude.
"YES!" Sam screamed. "You don't know the half of what it's like! No one does!"
"I bet Dean does!"
"Yeah, right."
"Well, have you tried telling him what's going on?"
Sam shook his head. "What's the point? There's nothing he can do."
A heavy silence filled the room. Sam continued silently crying and Bobby just sat with him. He gathered the remains of Sam's leftover sandwich, assuming Sam was now done with it and began to leave the room.
"I don't want to live like this anymore," Sam confessed, thinking Bobby was gone.
"Hey!" Bobby said from the doorway. "None of that, ya hear?"
Sam fell silent. Bobby hesitated on leaving Sam alone.
"I'll come back and check on ya in a bit."
Bobby closed the door. He waited outside and listened to Sam crying in the bedroom. Knowing he had exhausted all other options, he went downstairs to the phone and called Dean again.
"Hard to do a stake-out with you blowing up my phone," Dean said when he answered. "Talk fast. I told Dad I had to take a leak."
"You need to come home."
someones-big-sister
