SPN Coda: 5x16
I'm still trying to get caught up from being gone this weekend. I need a post-vacation vacation day. At least tomorrow is Friday? Tonight we have show! Right now I have a coda for last week's episode that I wrote at lunch. *hands* Y'all know me by now, right? (At least, those of you who read these anyway). The usual warnings for self-indulgence apply.
Thank you to rhythmsextion for audiencing this first! ♥
Dark Side of the Moon Coda
***
"I don't know what to do, Dean." Sam's voice is pitched low, but loud enough for Dean to hear over the sound of his own breathing.
Dean has been feigning sleep for over an hour, his back to Sam, and he's not about to give it up now because Sam's decided he wants a heart-to-heart.
"I don't-" Sam takes a shuddery breath. "I don't know what I can say that you'd believe. I mean, I know I have no right to expect you to trust me, but. Was there ever a time when you would have?" The last part is so quiet that Dean has to strain to hear. Sam sighs and starts again, a little louder when he says, "We've been at cross-purposes all our lives, so I don't know. Was there a point when I could have told you that you're the most important person in the world and you would have believed me?"
All evidence to the contrary? Dean thinks. What kind of idiot does Sam take him for?
"Maybe one of those times when I resented the hell out of you for it, huh? Would that have worked? If I'd said it like, 'I hate you'?" Sam snorts. "Sometimes I hate you. For being everything in the world and having no fucking clue."
Sam is looking at him. Dean can feel the weight of it all along his back, but he doesn't turn around. He keeps his breathing even instead and tries to ignore Sam's monologue.
"There were plenty of opportunities." Sam lets out a humorless chuckle. "I spent half my childhood worshiping you and half of it wishing you would stop trying to impress Dad long enough to see me."
Yeah, I didn't see you. That was the problem. Dean presses his lips together to keep the words from slipping out.
"I wanted you to be proud of me. I was always trying to prove something-that I could get a girl, that I could take care of myself." Sam swallows audibly. "That I didn't need you. Which was a total lie, of course." He huffs out a breath. "I didn't always want you around. I'm not going to lie about that. But I always needed you. Always. Even in heaven, apparently."
Bullshit, Dean thinks. He's the one who found Sam in heaven, not the other way around. Had he not, Sam would've gone on enjoying his Thanksgiving dinner. Dean's destined to spend an eternity following Sam around, yanking him away from the things he wants so that Dean can have him by his side.
"So, yeah. I need you and I love you. For whatever that's worth."
For whatever that's worth. Dean couldn't begin to say.
"We've had nothing but shit choices and maybe I chose wrong every time. Maybe if I'd-Fuck. I don't know! I can't go back, I can't undo it. I'll never be able to make it up to you. I know that. And I can live with you hating me, Dean. I deserve as much." Sam turns in his bed, sits up, maybe, from the way the sheets rustle. "I can't live with you thinking I hate you, though. I can't stand that you think you don't matter. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. Anything..."
There's a lump in Dean's throat and his nose itches, but he doesn't move. Breathes in and out, his focus on the rise and fall of his chest, his eyes squeezed shut against the darkness.
Eventually Sam lies back down. Tosses and turns for a few hours before his breath evens out. He hasn't slept in a few days, so he was about due.
"I don't know what to tell you either, Sammy," Dean whispers as the sky starts to grow light beyond the cheap motel curtains. "I wish I could believe you. I wish-" There used to be a lot of ways to end that sentence. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
Dean's always hated that expression. He has very few wishes left.
It'll be another two days before he can sleep again, so he watches the window. Thinks about how he'd rather see the sky than the curtains and muted light, but he's not sure it would make much of a difference at this point anyway.
Thank you to rhythmsextion for audiencing this first! ♥
Dark Side of the Moon Coda
***
"I don't know what to do, Dean." Sam's voice is pitched low, but loud enough for Dean to hear over the sound of his own breathing.
Dean has been feigning sleep for over an hour, his back to Sam, and he's not about to give it up now because Sam's decided he wants a heart-to-heart.
"I don't-" Sam takes a shuddery breath. "I don't know what I can say that you'd believe. I mean, I know I have no right to expect you to trust me, but. Was there ever a time when you would have?" The last part is so quiet that Dean has to strain to hear. Sam sighs and starts again, a little louder when he says, "We've been at cross-purposes all our lives, so I don't know. Was there a point when I could have told you that you're the most important person in the world and you would have believed me?"
All evidence to the contrary? Dean thinks. What kind of idiot does Sam take him for?
"Maybe one of those times when I resented the hell out of you for it, huh? Would that have worked? If I'd said it like, 'I hate you'?" Sam snorts. "Sometimes I hate you. For being everything in the world and having no fucking clue."
Sam is looking at him. Dean can feel the weight of it all along his back, but he doesn't turn around. He keeps his breathing even instead and tries to ignore Sam's monologue.
"There were plenty of opportunities." Sam lets out a humorless chuckle. "I spent half my childhood worshiping you and half of it wishing you would stop trying to impress Dad long enough to see me."
Yeah, I didn't see you. That was the problem. Dean presses his lips together to keep the words from slipping out.
"I wanted you to be proud of me. I was always trying to prove something-that I could get a girl, that I could take care of myself." Sam swallows audibly. "That I didn't need you. Which was a total lie, of course." He huffs out a breath. "I didn't always want you around. I'm not going to lie about that. But I always needed you. Always. Even in heaven, apparently."
Bullshit, Dean thinks. He's the one who found Sam in heaven, not the other way around. Had he not, Sam would've gone on enjoying his Thanksgiving dinner. Dean's destined to spend an eternity following Sam around, yanking him away from the things he wants so that Dean can have him by his side.
"So, yeah. I need you and I love you. For whatever that's worth."
For whatever that's worth. Dean couldn't begin to say.
"We've had nothing but shit choices and maybe I chose wrong every time. Maybe if I'd-Fuck. I don't know! I can't go back, I can't undo it. I'll never be able to make it up to you. I know that. And I can live with you hating me, Dean. I deserve as much." Sam turns in his bed, sits up, maybe, from the way the sheets rustle. "I can't live with you thinking I hate you, though. I can't stand that you think you don't matter. Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. Anything..."
There's a lump in Dean's throat and his nose itches, but he doesn't move. Breathes in and out, his focus on the rise and fall of his chest, his eyes squeezed shut against the darkness.
Eventually Sam lies back down. Tosses and turns for a few hours before his breath evens out. He hasn't slept in a few days, so he was about due.
"I don't know what to tell you either, Sammy," Dean whispers as the sky starts to grow light beyond the cheap motel curtains. "I wish I could believe you. I wish-" There used to be a lot of ways to end that sentence. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
Dean's always hated that expression. He has very few wishes left.
It'll be another two days before he can sleep again, so he watches the window. Thinks about how he'd rather see the sky than the curtains and muted light, but he's not sure it would make much of a difference at this point anyway.