5th verse: you came to town
don't know what we're looking for
- acidquill
track: Social burn #5 Happy
notes: haha, more college!muse, but not really. clipping along with this, rather proud really.
Dean almost didn’t go to Palo Alto, almost left Sam where he was without a word about Dad at all. But at the end of the day the pull of his brother was stronger than Dean was. It didn’t surprise him; it had always been that way. The Impala turned west almost on its own.
He got all the way to Stanford, hell all the way to Sam’s apartment before he slowed down enough to actually think: Sam had a new thing now, a life. One without the smell of burning bones and haze of grave dust. Normal. Well, as normal as anyone could get. Twenty two years old and at fucking Stanford. Yeah, Dean got how easy it was his for his baby brother to fit himself into this life. Didn’t understand the details maybe, but down where it counted, he understood.
In the end, Dean broke in because he wanted to see exactly how this whole normal thing worked. How Sammy worked now. He paid attention to the photos on the refrigerator, ran his hand along the spines of Sam’s books; he felt like a stranger. Dean almost left.
But then there he was -- all quick punches and sharp angles -- so Sam it made Dean’s chest hurt. He couldn’t go back now, not with the one person who mattered most staring him in the face. Two years was just too fucking long. He needed Sam, even if Sam no longer needed him. And now that he had his brother’s attention, he’d take whatever he could get.
He promised they would be back by Monday; he didn’t like it, but he promised. All his brother had to do was look at him and Dean would’ve pulled the damn moon out of the sky if Sammy wanted it. He knew Monday was going to hurt like hell, but he’d let go of Sam before and he could do it one more time.
After all, Sam had a new thing now, a life. One where he’d pushed and pulled and wiggled until he fit. And Dean didn’t.
-end
- acidquill
track: Social burn #5 Happy
notes: haha, more college!muse, but not really. clipping along with this, rather proud really.
Dean almost didn’t go to Palo Alto, almost left Sam where he was without a word about Dad at all. But at the end of the day the pull of his brother was stronger than Dean was. It didn’t surprise him; it had always been that way. The Impala turned west almost on its own.
He got all the way to Stanford, hell all the way to Sam’s apartment before he slowed down enough to actually think: Sam had a new thing now, a life. One without the smell of burning bones and haze of grave dust. Normal. Well, as normal as anyone could get. Twenty two years old and at fucking Stanford. Yeah, Dean got how easy it was his for his baby brother to fit himself into this life. Didn’t understand the details maybe, but down where it counted, he understood.
In the end, Dean broke in because he wanted to see exactly how this whole normal thing worked. How Sammy worked now. He paid attention to the photos on the refrigerator, ran his hand along the spines of Sam’s books; he felt like a stranger. Dean almost left.
But then there he was -- all quick punches and sharp angles -- so Sam it made Dean’s chest hurt. He couldn’t go back now, not with the one person who mattered most staring him in the face. Two years was just too fucking long. He needed Sam, even if Sam no longer needed him. And now that he had his brother’s attention, he’d take whatever he could get.
He promised they would be back by Monday; he didn’t like it, but he promised. All his brother had to do was look at him and Dean would’ve pulled the damn moon out of the sky if Sammy wanted it. He knew Monday was going to hurt like hell, but he’d let go of Sam before and he could do it one more time.
After all, Sam had a new thing now, a life. One where he’d pushed and pulled and wiggled until he fit. And Dean didn’t.
-end