The reaction to the noise was pure instinct, like so many things now. His head snapped up, right arm moved carefully into his jacket into his jacket and his fingers gripped the handle of his gun underneath it.
He turned his head, and surprise registered on his face. Sam was the last person he expected, and he loosened the grip on his gun.
It drifted to the key in the ignition. He could be away before Sam had the time to react.
But he hesitated, before shaking his head at his brother. Bobby had told him to find a reason to stay alive, and now he had one. Bobby had said something else, too. Something that was now more true than it had ever been.
"Gotta go, Sam. This thing ain't gonna kill itself."
Rage swam so brightly behind Sam's eyes for a moment that he couldn't find words. Months. He'd been tracking his brother for months after he abandoned him and that's the only thing he think of? A fucking hunt? Before he could stop himself, Sam wrenched the door open, hauling Dean out by the front of his jacket and hitting him as hard as he could, sending him sprawling.
"You left. You fucking left me and that's all you have to say?"
He hit the floor but was back up quickly, absently wiping at the place where Sam had hit him. Injuries weren't much anymore, unless they prevented another hunt. Then he stayed away long enough to get to a level where he could function at least half-smoothly.
"It's... This is what I have to do. There's nothing else to say." He could focus on the hunt. Didn't have to think, feel, just focus and do the job. Get in, save the day, and get out. He needed it like he needed air these days.
"Nothing else to say? You walked out on me you son of a bitch! I've been half out of my mind with worry thinking you were dead somewhere. You've been hunting. Without me."
Focus through the fire. Focus through Lucifer's crooked grin.
"Why? And I swear to God if you say Bobby I'll hit you again."
Why>? Because with Sam it was too easy to think and feel with Sam. Especially as his brother seemed to need to try to get him to talk. He didn't want to talk or think.
He just needed to hunt.
"Because I needed space." His mind said Bobby at the same time, but Sam's just said that he didn't want to hear that.
"Space. You needed space so you walked away without a fucking word. You could have called, could have told me you were all right. You left me to take care of everything," his jaw was tight with anger and hurt.
"You walked away from me. Dean.. I can't.." he trailed off, rubbing the scar on his palm with a pained look.
Two simultaneous, fairly mean thoughts sidled into his head. The first was 'I guess you know how it feels now', and the second being 'So you're allowed to walk away, but I'm not.'
But he didn't voice either of them, not paying them anymore attention than registering them when they first popped into his head; banishing them with a head shake, and a few mouthfuls of his flask.
His hands itched, impatiently waiting for the weight of the weapon that would bring the next creature to it's end before moving on. They needed to be kept busy so his mind wasn't. "I'm sorry, Sam. But now I really need to go." It was easier to run and hunt than face the painful truth and deal. He couldn't handle the truth; Sam can't seem to see it will kill him.
Fury swam up again, nearly swamping all reason and he slammed Dean against the car, pinning him with his forearm. He was bigger and used his height and weight to his advantage. "You need to go. You need to go you son of a bitch? You fucking left and that's all you have to say? I'm your brother."
The sound he made was low and hurt. "Why did you go? I needed you." Still needed him. Still needed him to help keep the fire and blood and pain and all of it at bay. Dean was the only thing keeping him in this world, keeping him sane.
Sam could barely speak around the tightness in his chest. It was nearly impossible to work through the horrors and the compounded pain of his brother deserting him.
"No, it's not your fault. It's Cas's for going off the reservation and pulling the wall down." The first was convicted. He believed it really wasn't Sam's fault. The second.... not so. He didn't blame Cas, not really.
It was his fault, and Dean knew it. He knew the wall wasn't going to last forever, and he did it anyway (and would again), it's his fault for not being able to see there was something wrong with Cas, it was his fault for not being able to save or help either of them. Whichever way you looked at it, it was down to one person, and that person wasn't Sam.
Cue him wanting to yell 'and what about me?' but he doesn't. He stamps down on that urge as he so often has in his life.
But what he ends up saying is something he's said for a little while now, something that's been playing on his mind for a long while now. "You're going to fall and not cme back one of these days anyway, whether I'm there or not." Yes, it's coming back to that other shoe dropping.
He turned his head, and surprise registered on his face. Sam was the last person he expected, and he loosened the grip on his gun.
It drifted to the key in the ignition. He could be away before Sam had the time to react.
But he hesitated, before shaking his head at his brother. Bobby had told him to find a reason to stay alive, and now he had one. Bobby had said something else, too. Something that was now more true than it had ever been.
"Gotta go, Sam. This thing ain't gonna kill itself."
You ain't a person, Dean. You're a hunter.
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"You left. You fucking left me and that's all you have to say?"
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"It's... This is what I have to do. There's nothing else to say." He could focus on the hunt. Didn't have to think, feel, just focus and do the job. Get in, save the day, and get out. He needed it like he needed air these days.
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Focus through the fire. Focus through Lucifer's crooked grin.
"Why? And I swear to God if you say Bobby I'll hit you again."
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He just needed to hunt.
"Because I needed space." His mind said Bobby at the same time, but Sam's just said that he didn't want to hear that.
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"You walked away from me. Dean.. I can't.." he trailed off, rubbing the scar on his palm with a pained look.
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But he didn't voice either of them, not paying them anymore attention than registering them when they first popped into his head; banishing them with a head shake, and a few mouthfuls of his flask.
His hands itched, impatiently waiting for the weight of the weapon that would bring the next creature to it's end before moving on. They needed to be kept busy so his mind wasn't. "I'm sorry, Sam. But now I really need to go." It was easier to run and hunt than face the painful truth and deal. He couldn't handle the truth; Sam can't seem to see it will kill him.
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The sound he made was low and hurt. "Why did you go? I needed you." Still needed him. Still needed him to help keep the fire and blood and pain and all of it at bay. Dean was the only thing keeping him in this world, keeping him sane.
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"You know why."
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"We're family," he choked. "Family."
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Anger warred so hard with grief Sam found it difficult to even think. "You don't know. You don't know how hard this is. I'm trying."
A familiar voice kept whispering in his ear. 'sooner or later, he was going to leave. We both knew it.'
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It was his fault, and Dean knew it. He knew the wall wasn't going to last forever, and he did it anyway (and would again), it's his fault for not being able to see there was something wrong with Cas, it was his fault for not being able to save or help either of them. Whichever way you looked at it, it was down to one person, and that person wasn't Sam.
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"I can't do this without you, Dean. One of these days I'll fall and I won't be able to come back if you're out here lone-wolfing it."
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But what he ends up saying is something he's said for a little while now, something that's been playing on his mind for a long while now. "You're going to fall and not cme back one of these days anyway, whether I'm there or not." Yes, it's coming back to that other shoe dropping.
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No. No he didn't mean it. The only thing keeping him alive was his brother's faith.
.. it would be so easy. Give Lucifer what he wanted. Pick up his gun and..
"Coward," he choked. "You want to give up, fine. At least have the balls to do it to my face."
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