Why We Do This - Standalone
Title: Why We Do This
Author: Blink-sum-new-muse
Rating: PG
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: If things had been able to go back to the way they were, would they have taken that chance, or would they have continued hunting? Sam wants to know if they are really good people.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. I do, however, own Adam and Jason from A, Matt and Dom from Muse, and Bryan Holland from The Offspring. Yes indeedy. But they can be rented out. Prices negotiable.
Status: Finished.
Spoilers: Up to All Hell Breaks Loose Part II [2x22].
"Do you ever think..." Sam begins, and then stops. Dean glances over from the driver's seat, but doesn't press, because he doesn't need to. He knows Sam will continue when he's ready.
It takes another hour and a cup of crappy gas station coffee before he is. They've just pulled back onto the highway again, ready for another few solid hours now that their bladders are empty and their gas-guzzling car is, for the moment, nicely filled, when Sam says, "What if she wasn't dead?"
It's not really a question because Sam doesn't expect Dean to answer it, knowing that he doesn't understand yet what Sam's talking about, and Dean isn't going to try to answer it either because he knows Sam isn't waiting for an answer. They have long since known the kind of comfort level that allows them to think out loud in each other's presence, and to know when they're meant to be conversing rather than just listening.
There's another long silence before Sam starts for real. "What if the demon didn't kill mom," he begins, and Dean's eyebrows raise just a fraction of an inch, but he tenses up too. Not enough so that anyone would notice it; anyone except Sam, that is, who knows it's going to happen even before Dean does, and therefore rushes to continue before Dean starts thinking too hard and abruptly ends the conversation because he doesn't like talking about certain things, sometimes. Most times, as it happens, but Sam needs to ask this, if only for curiosity's sake.
"No, let me-" he speaks, not even looking at his brother because he doesn't need to. "What if it didn't kill her?" he asks. "What if it just...took her? I know, I know, it didn't, and I'm not trying to pretend it did, but this is a theoretical question. What if she was with it, able to be found, able to be saved? And if all this time, we hadn't been hunting for revenge, but just...to find her? Do you think, if it had been that way, and we found her instead of just having to kill the demon, and dad hadn't died either...do you think if that happened then things would go back to normal?"
Dean lets a few seconds pass by before he forces out a huffed laugh, "Normal, Sammy? What's normal?"
"Before she died," Sam replies quietly, even though they both know damn well what he means by normal. He's watching his brother's face now.
Dean purses his lips and scans the horizon, checks his wing mirror and the centre, anything to keep from looking at Sam. "I don't know," he says finally, knowing that Sam's expecting a response on this one. That he won't stop pushing until he gets it, and that what Dean's saying now is by no means going to satisfy him, but he says it anyway, because it's a time buyer and this is how they have any sort of awkward conversation, Sam dragging it out of Dean like blood from a stone.
Sam frowns because it's the expression he's learned to adopt when Dean hedges away from answers, not because he really means it. "Would dad settle back down with her, in Kansas?" he continues. "Would I go back to Stanford and finish my law degree? Would you get a job back there, work up to owning your own garage? Or would we keep hunting?"
Dean checks the mirrors again. Still the same view as it has been the last fifty miles. "Why you askin', Sammy?" he grinds out. "It's not like it matters. She is dead, and so's the demon now. Who cares what woulda happened if things had been different?"
There's a long pause before Sam answers, the drawn, tight expression on his face one Dean knows all too well, could sketch in his sleep. "I just wondered," he says, and his voice is scratchy, harsh like he doesn't want to talk about this either, even though he does, because he's Sam, and Sam needs to talk about every goddamn thing on the planet, "If, if we'd had a chance at normal, if we would have taken it. Because, y'know, this way, we always knew we could never go back to the way things were. It was always about revenge, never to rescue what we had. But if it had been? If we'd been able to...get her back, and get that life back? Would we have been able to turn our backs on hunting now that our battle was over? Or would we still be doing it like this, because we know we can't have that normal any more so we settle for hunting and saving people?"
Dean finally looks over, a strained, somewhat confused expression on his face. "Why, Sam?" he repeats. "Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't, I guess," Sam concedes, staring down at his lap. "I just...I just wonder if we're doing this because we're really that selfless, or because we can't have a chance at normal any more. At least, not easily."
Dean's jaw clenches. His eyes are back on the road. "You had a go at normal," he says, voice cut and clear, "And you did that just fine. You could do it again but you chose to do this." Because I chose it first goes unspoken.
But Sam hears it anyway because there are no words they don't hear from each other, spoken or not. "It's not your fault I'm still here, Dean," he says honestly, looking over to give Dean the look that screams trust and patience, that Dean doesn't see because he doesn't look, but he knows it's there and that still stings just as bad, really. "I don't do this because I feel like I have to, for you. I know you could do this just fine on your own."
"I know, Sammy," Dean replies, automatically, and Sam visably winces at the woodenness of it. Dean shouldn't even bother to try to lie to him, because it never works, but he does anyway because this is how they work. Dean says what he hopes and Sam calls him out on it and says what's real. It's a setup that never fails.
"I'm serious, Dean," Sam presses. "Okay, at first I came because you asked me to. But you know, long before the demon and everything, I stayed because I wanted to. Not just for Jessica, either, because it's ended and I'm still here, man. I do this 'cause it's what we do."
"So there's your answer." Dean seizes on the opportunity to turn this away from him. "This is what we do. Even if things had been different...we couldn't have turned our backs on it any more than we can now."
"Are you sure?" Sam asks, and he sounds so lost and broken and so much like the five year old that didn't understand why he had to leave his friends at his first school that Dean wants to just pull over and comfort him exactly the same way, with hugs and X-Men cartoons and Lucky Charms, but he knows that won't work now. Never really did, if he's honest, but Sam was always good enough to let him believe when they were kids that it was possible to distract him like it was other children, even though he worked out soon enough that Sam was never going to be able to stop thinking about things because he always had bigger things to think about. Like why was their mom dead, and why did they move around so much, and why didn't other kids' big brothers teach them everything like his did?
So Dean's got to be honest and mature about this because Sam's always wanted answers, and it's always Dean he's asked them for. Dean's just never had the heart to tell him that he doesn't know the answers any more than Sam does.
"Sure, Sam," he lies glibly, and it's a lie they both know is a lie, but that Sam won't call him out on because it's what he needs to hear. "We're just...good people, right? Good, selfless boys."
Really, he thinks, it doesn't matter why they do this. In the end, it just matters that they do. Whatever the reasoning, their actions save a hell of a lot of people, and that's nothing to be sniffed at. It's Sam who always wanted to know why this and why that, and Dean who just needed to know what things were so he could deal with them and move on. But dad would never answer the whys, didn't need to think about stuff like that, so it was always Dean, and if Dean couldn't think of a lie good enough for a young Sammy to believe, then the reasoning was because Dean said so.
That worked then and it works now, and it's why Sam leans back in the seat, comforted, eyes glazing over as he turns his thoughts to something else, content to believe that they are honestly good people and always would be because Dean said so. And it's also why Dean's hands tighten on the wheel and his eyes continue to roam, because he will always blame himself for the fact that Sam is here and not back at Stanford, even if he could never have done anything about the demon taking Jess. Because maybe, if he hadn't taught Sam to believe him so readily, then maybe even if Jess had died, Sam wouldn't have inevitably felt the same need for revenge that dad had all these years, and he wouldn't have gone with Dean anyway, and maybe he'd've been able to carry on playing normal, or as normal as you can pretend to be when you've seen not one, but two people you loved burn to their deaths on the ceiling.
Dean does what he does because he is dad's good little soldier, and he was shocked into following orders. But Sam does what he does, mostly because it's what Dean does too, and in the end if Dean does something then it's good enough for Sammy to copy.
No matter what Sam says or however many variations of conversations they have on the subject, no matter how many honest and trusting faces Sam throws his way, Dean will always believe that Sam is here because of Dean. He will never stop feeling guilty about that, just as he will never stop feeling guilty about having cheated death not once, but twice, and the second time at the cost of his father's life.
But Dean is practised at dealing with guilt, so he just keeps on driving, ready and waiting for the next of Sam's ridiculous questions that don't matter at all to him but matter a great deal to Sam. It's what they do, after all.
Pic//Blink-sum-new-muse
Author: Blink-sum-new-muse
Rating: PG
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: If things had been able to go back to the way they were, would they have taken that chance, or would they have continued hunting? Sam wants to know if they are really good people.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. I do, however, own Adam and Jason from A, Matt and Dom from Muse, and Bryan Holland from The Offspring. Yes indeedy. But they can be rented out. Prices negotiable.
Status: Finished.
Spoilers: Up to All Hell Breaks Loose Part II [2x22].
"Do you ever think..." Sam begins, and then stops. Dean glances over from the driver's seat, but doesn't press, because he doesn't need to. He knows Sam will continue when he's ready.
It takes another hour and a cup of crappy gas station coffee before he is. They've just pulled back onto the highway again, ready for another few solid hours now that their bladders are empty and their gas-guzzling car is, for the moment, nicely filled, when Sam says, "What if she wasn't dead?"
It's not really a question because Sam doesn't expect Dean to answer it, knowing that he doesn't understand yet what Sam's talking about, and Dean isn't going to try to answer it either because he knows Sam isn't waiting for an answer. They have long since known the kind of comfort level that allows them to think out loud in each other's presence, and to know when they're meant to be conversing rather than just listening.
There's another long silence before Sam starts for real. "What if the demon didn't kill mom," he begins, and Dean's eyebrows raise just a fraction of an inch, but he tenses up too. Not enough so that anyone would notice it; anyone except Sam, that is, who knows it's going to happen even before Dean does, and therefore rushes to continue before Dean starts thinking too hard and abruptly ends the conversation because he doesn't like talking about certain things, sometimes. Most times, as it happens, but Sam needs to ask this, if only for curiosity's sake.
"No, let me-" he speaks, not even looking at his brother because he doesn't need to. "What if it didn't kill her?" he asks. "What if it just...took her? I know, I know, it didn't, and I'm not trying to pretend it did, but this is a theoretical question. What if she was with it, able to be found, able to be saved? And if all this time, we hadn't been hunting for revenge, but just...to find her? Do you think, if it had been that way, and we found her instead of just having to kill the demon, and dad hadn't died either...do you think if that happened then things would go back to normal?"
Dean lets a few seconds pass by before he forces out a huffed laugh, "Normal, Sammy? What's normal?"
"Before she died," Sam replies quietly, even though they both know damn well what he means by normal. He's watching his brother's face now.
Dean purses his lips and scans the horizon, checks his wing mirror and the centre, anything to keep from looking at Sam. "I don't know," he says finally, knowing that Sam's expecting a response on this one. That he won't stop pushing until he gets it, and that what Dean's saying now is by no means going to satisfy him, but he says it anyway, because it's a time buyer and this is how they have any sort of awkward conversation, Sam dragging it out of Dean like blood from a stone.
Sam frowns because it's the expression he's learned to adopt when Dean hedges away from answers, not because he really means it. "Would dad settle back down with her, in Kansas?" he continues. "Would I go back to Stanford and finish my law degree? Would you get a job back there, work up to owning your own garage? Or would we keep hunting?"
Dean checks the mirrors again. Still the same view as it has been the last fifty miles. "Why you askin', Sammy?" he grinds out. "It's not like it matters. She is dead, and so's the demon now. Who cares what woulda happened if things had been different?"
There's a long pause before Sam answers, the drawn, tight expression on his face one Dean knows all too well, could sketch in his sleep. "I just wondered," he says, and his voice is scratchy, harsh like he doesn't want to talk about this either, even though he does, because he's Sam, and Sam needs to talk about every goddamn thing on the planet, "If, if we'd had a chance at normal, if we would have taken it. Because, y'know, this way, we always knew we could never go back to the way things were. It was always about revenge, never to rescue what we had. But if it had been? If we'd been able to...get her back, and get that life back? Would we have been able to turn our backs on hunting now that our battle was over? Or would we still be doing it like this, because we know we can't have that normal any more so we settle for hunting and saving people?"
Dean finally looks over, a strained, somewhat confused expression on his face. "Why, Sam?" he repeats. "Why does it matter?"
"It doesn't, I guess," Sam concedes, staring down at his lap. "I just...I just wonder if we're doing this because we're really that selfless, or because we can't have a chance at normal any more. At least, not easily."
Dean's jaw clenches. His eyes are back on the road. "You had a go at normal," he says, voice cut and clear, "And you did that just fine. You could do it again but you chose to do this." Because I chose it first goes unspoken.
But Sam hears it anyway because there are no words they don't hear from each other, spoken or not. "It's not your fault I'm still here, Dean," he says honestly, looking over to give Dean the look that screams trust and patience, that Dean doesn't see because he doesn't look, but he knows it's there and that still stings just as bad, really. "I don't do this because I feel like I have to, for you. I know you could do this just fine on your own."
"I know, Sammy," Dean replies, automatically, and Sam visably winces at the woodenness of it. Dean shouldn't even bother to try to lie to him, because it never works, but he does anyway because this is how they work. Dean says what he hopes and Sam calls him out on it and says what's real. It's a setup that never fails.
"I'm serious, Dean," Sam presses. "Okay, at first I came because you asked me to. But you know, long before the demon and everything, I stayed because I wanted to. Not just for Jessica, either, because it's ended and I'm still here, man. I do this 'cause it's what we do."
"So there's your answer." Dean seizes on the opportunity to turn this away from him. "This is what we do. Even if things had been different...we couldn't have turned our backs on it any more than we can now."
"Are you sure?" Sam asks, and he sounds so lost and broken and so much like the five year old that didn't understand why he had to leave his friends at his first school that Dean wants to just pull over and comfort him exactly the same way, with hugs and X-Men cartoons and Lucky Charms, but he knows that won't work now. Never really did, if he's honest, but Sam was always good enough to let him believe when they were kids that it was possible to distract him like it was other children, even though he worked out soon enough that Sam was never going to be able to stop thinking about things because he always had bigger things to think about. Like why was their mom dead, and why did they move around so much, and why didn't other kids' big brothers teach them everything like his did?
So Dean's got to be honest and mature about this because Sam's always wanted answers, and it's always Dean he's asked them for. Dean's just never had the heart to tell him that he doesn't know the answers any more than Sam does.
"Sure, Sam," he lies glibly, and it's a lie they both know is a lie, but that Sam won't call him out on because it's what he needs to hear. "We're just...good people, right? Good, selfless boys."
Really, he thinks, it doesn't matter why they do this. In the end, it just matters that they do. Whatever the reasoning, their actions save a hell of a lot of people, and that's nothing to be sniffed at. It's Sam who always wanted to know why this and why that, and Dean who just needed to know what things were so he could deal with them and move on. But dad would never answer the whys, didn't need to think about stuff like that, so it was always Dean, and if Dean couldn't think of a lie good enough for a young Sammy to believe, then the reasoning was because Dean said so.
That worked then and it works now, and it's why Sam leans back in the seat, comforted, eyes glazing over as he turns his thoughts to something else, content to believe that they are honestly good people and always would be because Dean said so. And it's also why Dean's hands tighten on the wheel and his eyes continue to roam, because he will always blame himself for the fact that Sam is here and not back at Stanford, even if he could never have done anything about the demon taking Jess. Because maybe, if he hadn't taught Sam to believe him so readily, then maybe even if Jess had died, Sam wouldn't have inevitably felt the same need for revenge that dad had all these years, and he wouldn't have gone with Dean anyway, and maybe he'd've been able to carry on playing normal, or as normal as you can pretend to be when you've seen not one, but two people you loved burn to their deaths on the ceiling.
Dean does what he does because he is dad's good little soldier, and he was shocked into following orders. But Sam does what he does, mostly because it's what Dean does too, and in the end if Dean does something then it's good enough for Sammy to copy.
No matter what Sam says or however many variations of conversations they have on the subject, no matter how many honest and trusting faces Sam throws his way, Dean will always believe that Sam is here because of Dean. He will never stop feeling guilty about that, just as he will never stop feeling guilty about having cheated death not once, but twice, and the second time at the cost of his father's life.
But Dean is practised at dealing with guilt, so he just keeps on driving, ready and waiting for the next of Sam's ridiculous questions that don't matter at all to him but matter a great deal to Sam. It's what they do, after all.
Pic//Blink-sum-new-muse