Change Your Fate
Title: Change Your Fate
Author: dontknowmyname
Beta: none (if anyone is interested, I’m in search for one)
Rating: PG
Pairing/Genre: Gen
Word Count: 1,692
Disclaimer: Supernatural and the characters are not mine. Never have been, never will be, but I wish they were.
Warning: Spoilers for 14x12
Author’s Note: This is the first story I’ve posted in YEARS! Please excuse me as I get back into the swing of writing and try to find someone to help me fix my errors.
Summary: Sam had thought his words weren’t getting through to Dean, but they were. The truth is, the second Sam’s fist had made contact, Dean knew it was over. He knew what he had to do and that wasn’t jump inside a box with an archangel.
~~~*~~~
The car was quiet for most of the long drive home. Not the uncomfortable, awkward quiet, but the familiar, recovery type of quiet. Sam was pressed up against the passenger side door, his tall frame seeming to shrink three or four inches. Cas was in the backseat, staring out the window at the landscape passing by.
And Dean? Well Dean was left to his own thoughts, staring at the road ahead. He lifted his beer can and held it to his cheek, because even though it had lost most of its chill, the aluminum still felt good against his heated skin. It wasn’t the pain that bothered him, it was the reminder of his brother’s face when Sam threw the punch.
When he looked up, Cas was staring at him in the review mirror. “Are you okay, Dean?”
“Yeah, Cas,” Dean nodded, turning his eyes back to the road. “I’m good.”
“He didn’t want to hurt you.”
The younger brother didn’t react in the seat beside him, telling Dean that Sam was fast asleep. It didn’t surprise him. He knew Sam hadn’t slept well since Dean left the bunker days ago. Neither of them had, but Sam’s emotional outburst was sure to have taken what little energy he had.
“I know,” He agreed. “I’m not mad.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Look, Cas,” Dean ran a hand over his chin, “we’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”
The angel nodded and returned his stare to the passing scenery and Dean relaxed slightly. That was until his eyes caught the box hitched to the back of the impala. The pressure in his skull increased, he heard and felt Michael’s endless attempt to escape. He would be haunted by that box for a long time, the uncertainty literally following him home.
It was terrifying. He hated the thought of climbing inside there, of being trapped alone for eternity, but he would have done it. He would have done it to save the world because he thought he had to. For a brief moment in time, he had forgotten that his brother was the world. His family has always been his world. The most important people. The ones he fought the hardest to save.
That was the reason he dodged Sam and ran away to construct the horrible ending. He didn’t want to do it and Sam was the only who could, who did, convince him it wasn’t worth it. Their family was worth it. What good was saving the world if he left his family broken.
He pulled the impala into the bunkers garage and was thankful when Cas jumped right out of the car and left the brothers alone. Sam stirred when Dean cut the engine, the sound always being a comfort to his little brother.
“We’re home, man.” Dean whispered, giving Sam a chance to catch up. “Let’s get to bed.”
Sam’s eyes were red, his face wrinkled with exhaustion. He made no move to get out of the car. In fact, he laid his head back down against the window and closed his eyes again. Dean reached out to shake Sam’s shoulder, but his brother didn’t budge.
They were feet away from comfortable clothes and soft, warm beds. All he needed to do was get Sam up and moving, but he knew from experience that moving an exhausted Sam was like trying to move a parked car. He wasn’t going anywhere unless he wanted to, and it was obvious Sam wasn’t interested in moving.
Dean sighed as he climbed out of the car and headed to the passenger side. He slowly opened the door, reaching a hand out to stop Sam from falling to the ground. He pushed Sam’s limp body back against the seat and knelt down beside the car.
“Sammy,” he spoke softly, nudging his brother’s knee with one hand and tapping Sam’s cheek with the other. “time to get up, dude.”
“Dean?” Sam blinked his eyes open slowly and stared at the older brother. “We’re home already?”
He laughed at Sam’s confusion, because damnit if his brother didn’t look all of ten-years-old right then. Dean slowly stood back up and extended his hand to help Sam up and out of the car. It took a second, but Sam finally grabbed Dean’s hand and allowed the older brother to help him to his feet, which Dean was thankful for.
“You slept the whole ride home.” Dean stated as the two of them shuffled toward the door. He didn’t miss the way Sam glanced back at the car, his eyes locking on the damn box still attached to the impala.
“Hey,” Dean bumped his shoulder into Sam’s, effectively refocusing his brother’s attention. “You want something to eat before we go to bed?”
Sam blinked a few times as if he was slowly processing what Dean had asked, but then he nodded. “Yeah, yeah I think I do.”
They continued their shuffle into the kitchen, Sam plopping down in the chair as Dean went right to the fridge. He pulled out two bottles, popping the caps off as he placed one in front of Sam and the other to his lips.
Dean watched Sam stare at the bottle for a moment and then drop his head into his hands. He gave his brother a moment of privacy as he headed to the shelf and grabbed a box of generic mac and cheese. He stole a quick glance at Sam as he filled a pot of water and set it on the stove to boil.
When Sam finally looked up, his eyes shined with emotion and Dean felt as though his heart dropped into his stomach. Sam’s damn puppy dog eyes always seemed to have that effect on him.
“I’m sorry,” the younger brother spoke whispered as Dean plopped down across from him.
Continuing to sip his beer, Dean just stared at Sam, waiting for him to continue. It wasn’t that he expected or even needed an apology, but he knew Sam needed to say it.
Sam took the silence for what it was and went on, “I shouldn’t have punched you. I’m sorry.”
Dean shrugged, “I probably deserved it.”
“No, no way,” Sam shook his head vehemently, his hands clenched into fists. “You were doing what you thought was right.”
He nodded as he stood up to finish making dinner, thinking back on the night’s events. There was so much he should say right now, but he couldn’t find the right words. Words had always been Sam’s thing.
That’s why Dean knew Sam had been at his whit’s end when he threw that punch. His brother had just opened up and spoken aloud all the thoughts he’d been holding back since finding out about the box. Dean had made it very clear that he didn’t want to be talked out of his plan and he was sure that Sam had tried his best to support Dean, even if he was still searching for another option. Who could blame him for trying? Dean certainly didn’t.
He knew that the end of their job had terrified Sam. He knew that his brother was in no way happy about following through with what he thought was the worse idea ever. When Sam realized that he was running out of time to stop Dean with another viable option, Sam had tried to get through to him with words.
It had been painful to watch Sam break down, tears welling up in his eyes. Defeat, anger and terror all built into one look. Dean had tried to listen, had tried to keep eye contact, but he could feel his commitment to the plan failing with every second that passed.
When he looked away, Sam had slapped him in the chest, making sure Dean couldn’t escape their conversation. That had been Dean’s first clue. Then Sam went on and Dean couldn’t take it. He shook his head and glanced away again, looking back up just in time to see Sam’s fist flying at his face.
Sam had thought his words weren’t getting through to Dean, but they were. The truth is, the second Sam’s fist had made contact, Dean knew it was over. He knew what he had to do and that wasn’t jump inside a box with an archangel.
“I thought it was the only way,” Dean reaffirmed. “I’m still not sure it isn’t.”
“Then why give in?” There was that fear again, fear that Dean was about to run off and follow through with his plan. “Why did you come home?”
“I had to do my job,” Dean said as he finished mixing up the macaroni.
“Hunting?”
“No,” Dean smiled, “taking care of my pain-in-the-ass little brother.”
Sam dropped his head, but Dean didn’t miss the smile as he placed a bowl in front of his brother. When he sat down across from Sam with his own bowl, the younger man finally met Dean’s eyes. Some of that fear finally disappearing.
“If anyone can find another way It’s you, Sammy.”
“I will,” Sam confirmed with a nod. “We will.”
There wasn’t a doubt in Dean’s mind about that. He only feared that Michael will have taken over by that time. It was never about his lack of faith in Sam or Cas. It was fearing his ability to keep the archangel locked away, but Dean had a feeling that Sam already knew that. At least Sam knew that was part of it.
“Alright,” Dean gave Sam his most reassuring smile. “Now, eat your food before it gets cold.”
The younger man did what he was told, following Dean’s orders like he has since he was two. The two of them finished eating in silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a ‘we don’t need words to communicate’ silence.
For the moment all was silent. Deep down, Dean knew he was where he was supposed to be. He knew that he couldn’t save people from the bottom of the ocean, that he couldn’t be there for Sam if he was locked in a box and he knew that Billie was wrong.
He hoped she was wrong.
Author: dontknowmyname
Beta: none (if anyone is interested, I’m in search for one)
Rating: PG
Pairing/Genre: Gen
Word Count: 1,692
Disclaimer: Supernatural and the characters are not mine. Never have been, never will be, but I wish they were.
Warning: Spoilers for 14x12
Author’s Note: This is the first story I’ve posted in YEARS! Please excuse me as I get back into the swing of writing and try to find someone to help me fix my errors.
Summary: Sam had thought his words weren’t getting through to Dean, but they were. The truth is, the second Sam’s fist had made contact, Dean knew it was over. He knew what he had to do and that wasn’t jump inside a box with an archangel.
~~~*~~~
The car was quiet for most of the long drive home. Not the uncomfortable, awkward quiet, but the familiar, recovery type of quiet. Sam was pressed up against the passenger side door, his tall frame seeming to shrink three or four inches. Cas was in the backseat, staring out the window at the landscape passing by.
And Dean? Well Dean was left to his own thoughts, staring at the road ahead. He lifted his beer can and held it to his cheek, because even though it had lost most of its chill, the aluminum still felt good against his heated skin. It wasn’t the pain that bothered him, it was the reminder of his brother’s face when Sam threw the punch.
When he looked up, Cas was staring at him in the review mirror. “Are you okay, Dean?”
“Yeah, Cas,” Dean nodded, turning his eyes back to the road. “I’m good.”
“He didn’t want to hurt you.”
The younger brother didn’t react in the seat beside him, telling Dean that Sam was fast asleep. It didn’t surprise him. He knew Sam hadn’t slept well since Dean left the bunker days ago. Neither of them had, but Sam’s emotional outburst was sure to have taken what little energy he had.
“I know,” He agreed. “I’m not mad.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Look, Cas,” Dean ran a hand over his chin, “we’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”
The angel nodded and returned his stare to the passing scenery and Dean relaxed slightly. That was until his eyes caught the box hitched to the back of the impala. The pressure in his skull increased, he heard and felt Michael’s endless attempt to escape. He would be haunted by that box for a long time, the uncertainty literally following him home.
It was terrifying. He hated the thought of climbing inside there, of being trapped alone for eternity, but he would have done it. He would have done it to save the world because he thought he had to. For a brief moment in time, he had forgotten that his brother was the world. His family has always been his world. The most important people. The ones he fought the hardest to save.
That was the reason he dodged Sam and ran away to construct the horrible ending. He didn’t want to do it and Sam was the only who could, who did, convince him it wasn’t worth it. Their family was worth it. What good was saving the world if he left his family broken.
He pulled the impala into the bunkers garage and was thankful when Cas jumped right out of the car and left the brothers alone. Sam stirred when Dean cut the engine, the sound always being a comfort to his little brother.
“We’re home, man.” Dean whispered, giving Sam a chance to catch up. “Let’s get to bed.”
Sam’s eyes were red, his face wrinkled with exhaustion. He made no move to get out of the car. In fact, he laid his head back down against the window and closed his eyes again. Dean reached out to shake Sam’s shoulder, but his brother didn’t budge.
They were feet away from comfortable clothes and soft, warm beds. All he needed to do was get Sam up and moving, but he knew from experience that moving an exhausted Sam was like trying to move a parked car. He wasn’t going anywhere unless he wanted to, and it was obvious Sam wasn’t interested in moving.
Dean sighed as he climbed out of the car and headed to the passenger side. He slowly opened the door, reaching a hand out to stop Sam from falling to the ground. He pushed Sam’s limp body back against the seat and knelt down beside the car.
“Sammy,” he spoke softly, nudging his brother’s knee with one hand and tapping Sam’s cheek with the other. “time to get up, dude.”
“Dean?” Sam blinked his eyes open slowly and stared at the older brother. “We’re home already?”
He laughed at Sam’s confusion, because damnit if his brother didn’t look all of ten-years-old right then. Dean slowly stood back up and extended his hand to help Sam up and out of the car. It took a second, but Sam finally grabbed Dean’s hand and allowed the older brother to help him to his feet, which Dean was thankful for.
“You slept the whole ride home.” Dean stated as the two of them shuffled toward the door. He didn’t miss the way Sam glanced back at the car, his eyes locking on the damn box still attached to the impala.
“Hey,” Dean bumped his shoulder into Sam’s, effectively refocusing his brother’s attention. “You want something to eat before we go to bed?”
Sam blinked a few times as if he was slowly processing what Dean had asked, but then he nodded. “Yeah, yeah I think I do.”
They continued their shuffle into the kitchen, Sam plopping down in the chair as Dean went right to the fridge. He pulled out two bottles, popping the caps off as he placed one in front of Sam and the other to his lips.
Dean watched Sam stare at the bottle for a moment and then drop his head into his hands. He gave his brother a moment of privacy as he headed to the shelf and grabbed a box of generic mac and cheese. He stole a quick glance at Sam as he filled a pot of water and set it on the stove to boil.
When Sam finally looked up, his eyes shined with emotion and Dean felt as though his heart dropped into his stomach. Sam’s damn puppy dog eyes always seemed to have that effect on him.
“I’m sorry,” the younger brother spoke whispered as Dean plopped down across from him.
Continuing to sip his beer, Dean just stared at Sam, waiting for him to continue. It wasn’t that he expected or even needed an apology, but he knew Sam needed to say it.
Sam took the silence for what it was and went on, “I shouldn’t have punched you. I’m sorry.”
Dean shrugged, “I probably deserved it.”
“No, no way,” Sam shook his head vehemently, his hands clenched into fists. “You were doing what you thought was right.”
He nodded as he stood up to finish making dinner, thinking back on the night’s events. There was so much he should say right now, but he couldn’t find the right words. Words had always been Sam’s thing.
That’s why Dean knew Sam had been at his whit’s end when he threw that punch. His brother had just opened up and spoken aloud all the thoughts he’d been holding back since finding out about the box. Dean had made it very clear that he didn’t want to be talked out of his plan and he was sure that Sam had tried his best to support Dean, even if he was still searching for another option. Who could blame him for trying? Dean certainly didn’t.
He knew that the end of their job had terrified Sam. He knew that his brother was in no way happy about following through with what he thought was the worse idea ever. When Sam realized that he was running out of time to stop Dean with another viable option, Sam had tried to get through to him with words.
It had been painful to watch Sam break down, tears welling up in his eyes. Defeat, anger and terror all built into one look. Dean had tried to listen, had tried to keep eye contact, but he could feel his commitment to the plan failing with every second that passed.
When he looked away, Sam had slapped him in the chest, making sure Dean couldn’t escape their conversation. That had been Dean’s first clue. Then Sam went on and Dean couldn’t take it. He shook his head and glanced away again, looking back up just in time to see Sam’s fist flying at his face.
Sam had thought his words weren’t getting through to Dean, but they were. The truth is, the second Sam’s fist had made contact, Dean knew it was over. He knew what he had to do and that wasn’t jump inside a box with an archangel.
“I thought it was the only way,” Dean reaffirmed. “I’m still not sure it isn’t.”
“Then why give in?” There was that fear again, fear that Dean was about to run off and follow through with his plan. “Why did you come home?”
“I had to do my job,” Dean said as he finished mixing up the macaroni.
“Hunting?”
“No,” Dean smiled, “taking care of my pain-in-the-ass little brother.”
Sam dropped his head, but Dean didn’t miss the smile as he placed a bowl in front of his brother. When he sat down across from Sam with his own bowl, the younger man finally met Dean’s eyes. Some of that fear finally disappearing.
“If anyone can find another way It’s you, Sammy.”
“I will,” Sam confirmed with a nod. “We will.”
There wasn’t a doubt in Dean’s mind about that. He only feared that Michael will have taken over by that time. It was never about his lack of faith in Sam or Cas. It was fearing his ability to keep the archangel locked away, but Dean had a feeling that Sam already knew that. At least Sam knew that was part of it.
“Alright,” Dean gave Sam his most reassuring smile. “Now, eat your food before it gets cold.”
The younger man did what he was told, following Dean’s orders like he has since he was two. The two of them finished eating in silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a ‘we don’t need words to communicate’ silence.
For the moment all was silent. Deep down, Dean knew he was where he was supposed to be. He knew that he couldn’t save people from the bottom of the ocean, that he couldn’t be there for Sam if he was locked in a box and he knew that Billie was wrong.
He hoped she was wrong.