more Sam/Alec WiP
part I | part II | part III
It was never a good idea.
Alec was reading aloud some unkind article about genetic anomalies in an old magazine, sprawled on the couch beside you in that loose way he had, one leg up and the other spread wide, and you were almost at the edges of sleep when you saw Dean in your mind’s eye reading about the mysterious death of a city girl from a newspaper. Their voices got mixed up in your head, blurring into one continuous long rising and falling of sounds, and then Dean’s image smiled at you, quirked an eyebrow. You tipped over into Alec’s chest and barely realized what you were doing - your mouth sloppily dragging along Alec’s own in mid-sentence - and Alec only stared at you. He gently touched your shoulders and pushed you back, and you blinked awake.
“Dean…I’ve always wanted to…” but the words lodged in your throat, just as they had come out, completely of their own volition.
“Well I’m not him.” Alec was barely able to close off fast enough; you could see something in his face as he turned away. You were silent, but knew he was waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he walked quietly out the door and you didn’t go after him.
You didn’t see him for three days. Wherever he went, you were sure he could handle himself. He’d turn up again eventually, so you puttered around in the apartment and only went out for occasional rides because there was nothing else to do, not because you were looking for him. Maybe it was better you never saw him again. If only you could make yourself believe that, and not listen to the sudden, lost motion of your thoughts, veering toward Alec no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on other things.
There wasn’t much else to think about besides Dean. You were already pretty clear on that subject, and the need to do something to rekindle his memory was like a slow burn in your chest, wanting to scorch its way out and somehow manifest.
In those three days, the weather had dropped considerably with the constant slow trickle of rain, and the apartment grew colder. You ran out of wood for a fire, so you dug through Alec’s messy drawers and wrangled on an old sweater, constantly pulling at the high collar because you weren’t accustomed to the tight, constrictive press around your neck.
“I really hated wearing those,” Alec had explained, not many days before. “But they covered up the barcode. I still kinda want to burn them for fashion’s sake, now that it doesn’t matter anymore.”
On the fourth day, you were stepping out of a cold shower before struggling on a clean pair of jeans you’d found when Alec was suddenly just there, standing inside the doorway. He shifted and looked away.
“Had to, um. Visit a friend.”
You weren’t going to question him, not unless he felt like talking, and it didn’t seem like he did.
“Are you gonna make a habit out of wearing my clothes?” He asked when he recognized the jeans. You shrugged and walked over to the couch, picking up a long-sleeved thermal that was also his.
“Left what little I had in that alley, when I saw you. Backpack’s probably gone by now,” you said and pulled the shirt on. It was a bit snug, like the jeans were a tad short.
“Look,” Alec began, wasting no time on awkward silences. He paced back and forth between the couch and the kitchen counter. “I know you miss him, and it’s gotta be hard seeing his face every day.” He stopped, turned and faced you in the middle of the room. His hair was damp from the rain, and his lashes were spiked in wet clumps. He didn’t look distressed or annoyed or even angry, just resigned. “But I’m not him, and I’ll never be him. So if you think you can’t handle that…”
You sank down on the couch and rubbed your hands on your thighs. “I know. But I really do like you, Alec. You’re not a bad guy.”
“Gee, thanks,” Alec rolled his eyes and spread his palms. “Now my life is complete.”
With that, some of the tension faded from the room, but you realized you couldn’t be the one to extend the olive branch. It wasn’t clear if Alec still trusted you like he once did, or even if he still liked you.
“What I did - I’m sorry. I was half asleep…” you started to apologize, but Alec just shook his head.
“No, I get it. It’s okay, you secretly pined for you brother or whatever,” Alec said, but his tone didn’t indicate he was joking in any way whatsoever.
You got up then, unable to sit and watch him explain it away. He wasn’t Dean, but he was someone else that you could see yourself standing beside, and it felt like something was finally going right.
“Yeah, so I’m a little - messed up.” You smiled, and Alec grinned back slowly, unsure at first. “But I’d like to stick around, if you want me.”
“Not just because I look like him?” Alec asked, raising an eyebrow though his lips were smiling.
“No,” you shook your head. “You’ve got many other good qualities, like the way you stuff your face - ” A shoe was being thrown, you hastily threw up your arms and laughed into the warm body that followed after, tumbling into your side.
So it was never a good idea, but it was by far one of the easiest decisions you ever made. Stick with Alec, and maybe you could wash off some of that blood from your hands. Maybe Dean could finally rest without you constantly picking up his memory again and dragging it around like old grave dirt, stuck to the folds in your skin.
tbc
shorter this time.
Oh and yes I am alive, just in a bit of pain.