Nothing Bad Will Ever Happen to You (Except Me) Chapter 3
Title: Nothing Bad Will Ever Happen to You (Except Me)
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: Wincest, perceived non-con, perceived somnophilia, angst
Summary: The morning after isn't quite what Sam hoped for.
Sam wakes up happy. He stretches luxuriously, enjoying the pull and ache in his muscles before he realizes he’s half dressed again. A frown creases his forehead as he shakes off his sleep fog and realizes how quiet it is. Dean isn’t breathing in the bed next to his, the shower isn’t running.
The thread of unease running through Sam grows as he sits up and sees that Dean’s jacket isn’t thrown over the back of the desk chair like he’d expect it to be. His unease grows into something approaching panic as he looks around and sees that Dean’s duffle is gone as well. The realization that he’s misjudged everything hits him like a dash of cold water and he grabs his phone off the nightstand, fingers shaking as he punches in the only number he knows by heart.
The phone rings on the seat next to him but Dean doesn’t pick up. He knows it’s Sam--the kid is nothing if not predictable. He grips the wheel tighter, determined not to answer, ignoring the voice in his head telling him he’s making his biggest mistake yet.
Sam listens to the phone ring, tinny and distant. He doesn’t leave a message this time. If Dean wants to talk to him, he will. Sam doesn’t let himself think about what it means if Dean doesn’t call him back.
Sam stays at the motel where Dean left him for three days, hoping that Dean will come back. He knows it’s pointless--he found Dean’s note and once his head cleared from sleep and painkillers he knows just how badly he screwed up. They both did. He spends the first day beating himself up, playing it back in his mind over and over, hating himself for how badly he wants Dean’s hands on him again. The second day he wakes up angry, at himself and at Dean. He almost takes off then, determined to let his brother go his own way if that's what he really wants. But the thought of Dean’s deal, that he might never see his brother again, that Dean might go to hell thinking he raped his brother--he spends the next hour in the bathroom retching up the cheap coffee from the motel lobby.
The third day--it’s after midnight, so it counts as a new day in Sam’s mind--he finally calls Bobby. Sam doesn’t have much hope that Dean will go to their old friend, but he needs to touch base himself, and Bobby loves Dean like a son. He deserves to know what’s happening, or at least the results.
“We had a fight, Bobby. Dean left,” Sam repeats slowly for what feels like the hundredth time. “He took the Impala and he’s not answering his phone.”
Sam listens again then says in frustration, “Does it matter what we fought about? He thinks he did something wrong, that he deserves to go to hell. He thinks he hurt me, but he didn’t. It was just as much my fault as it was his, but he didn’t stick around long enough for me to say so and now he’s gone!”
The silence on the other end tells Sam he may have gone a little too far. Sam waits for Bobby to figure it out and hang up on him, but after a too long moment Bobby clears his throat. “Well, if you say it’s...uh...personal, then that’s good enough I guess. You got any ideas where he might go?”
“No,” Sam whispers miserably. “If he were trying to hide from anyone else I could find him easy enough, but he’s trying to hide from me.”
More silence on the other end tells Sam that Bobby is having just as much trouble processing this as Sam is.
“We’ve got to find him, Bobby. He’s got less than a year left and he won’t even try to save himself. We’ve got to find him.”
“Sam…” Bobby’s voice is cautious, careful. Like he thinks Sam might break under the weight of any more bad news. “Did he tell you about the terms of his deal?”
Sam laughs bitterly. “You mean like how I die if Dean lifts a finger to save himself? Yeah, I dragged it out of him eventually. But that doesn’t mean we can’t save him, Bobby. It just means…” Sam trails off as he realizes the answer is staring him in the face.
“Just keep looking, Bobby,” he says, too quickly. “I will too. I’ve got a few ideas, not much, but they could pan out.”
“Don’t you do anything stupid, Sam,” Bobby warns. “One idjit per family is plenty. And you...you boys are like my own sons. I can’t lose you both, you hear me?” The barely there tremble in Bobby’s voice hurts Sam’s heart, but Sam can’t let Bobby’s feelings stop him. There’s too much at stake, and Sam won’t risk losing Dean again. He hardens his resolve to see this through and do whatever he has to in order to save Dean.
“You won’t lose us, Bobby,” Sam promises quietly. As he hangs up he tells himself he’s not lying--at least one of them will survive. Sam will see to that.
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Warnings: Wincest, perceived non-con, perceived somnophilia, angst
Summary: The morning after isn't quite what Sam hoped for.
Sam wakes up happy. He stretches luxuriously, enjoying the pull and ache in his muscles before he realizes he’s half dressed again. A frown creases his forehead as he shakes off his sleep fog and realizes how quiet it is. Dean isn’t breathing in the bed next to his, the shower isn’t running.
The thread of unease running through Sam grows as he sits up and sees that Dean’s jacket isn’t thrown over the back of the desk chair like he’d expect it to be. His unease grows into something approaching panic as he looks around and sees that Dean’s duffle is gone as well. The realization that he’s misjudged everything hits him like a dash of cold water and he grabs his phone off the nightstand, fingers shaking as he punches in the only number he knows by heart.
The phone rings on the seat next to him but Dean doesn’t pick up. He knows it’s Sam--the kid is nothing if not predictable. He grips the wheel tighter, determined not to answer, ignoring the voice in his head telling him he’s making his biggest mistake yet.
Sam listens to the phone ring, tinny and distant. He doesn’t leave a message this time. If Dean wants to talk to him, he will. Sam doesn’t let himself think about what it means if Dean doesn’t call him back.
Sam stays at the motel where Dean left him for three days, hoping that Dean will come back. He knows it’s pointless--he found Dean’s note and once his head cleared from sleep and painkillers he knows just how badly he screwed up. They both did. He spends the first day beating himself up, playing it back in his mind over and over, hating himself for how badly he wants Dean’s hands on him again. The second day he wakes up angry, at himself and at Dean. He almost takes off then, determined to let his brother go his own way if that's what he really wants. But the thought of Dean’s deal, that he might never see his brother again, that Dean might go to hell thinking he raped his brother--he spends the next hour in the bathroom retching up the cheap coffee from the motel lobby.
The third day--it’s after midnight, so it counts as a new day in Sam’s mind--he finally calls Bobby. Sam doesn’t have much hope that Dean will go to their old friend, but he needs to touch base himself, and Bobby loves Dean like a son. He deserves to know what’s happening, or at least the results.
“We had a fight, Bobby. Dean left,” Sam repeats slowly for what feels like the hundredth time. “He took the Impala and he’s not answering his phone.”
Sam listens again then says in frustration, “Does it matter what we fought about? He thinks he did something wrong, that he deserves to go to hell. He thinks he hurt me, but he didn’t. It was just as much my fault as it was his, but he didn’t stick around long enough for me to say so and now he’s gone!”
The silence on the other end tells Sam he may have gone a little too far. Sam waits for Bobby to figure it out and hang up on him, but after a too long moment Bobby clears his throat. “Well, if you say it’s...uh...personal, then that’s good enough I guess. You got any ideas where he might go?”
“No,” Sam whispers miserably. “If he were trying to hide from anyone else I could find him easy enough, but he’s trying to hide from me.”
More silence on the other end tells Sam that Bobby is having just as much trouble processing this as Sam is.
“We’ve got to find him, Bobby. He’s got less than a year left and he won’t even try to save himself. We’ve got to find him.”
“Sam…” Bobby’s voice is cautious, careful. Like he thinks Sam might break under the weight of any more bad news. “Did he tell you about the terms of his deal?”
Sam laughs bitterly. “You mean like how I die if Dean lifts a finger to save himself? Yeah, I dragged it out of him eventually. But that doesn’t mean we can’t save him, Bobby. It just means…” Sam trails off as he realizes the answer is staring him in the face.
“Just keep looking, Bobby,” he says, too quickly. “I will too. I’ve got a few ideas, not much, but they could pan out.”
“Don’t you do anything stupid, Sam,” Bobby warns. “One idjit per family is plenty. And you...you boys are like my own sons. I can’t lose you both, you hear me?” The barely there tremble in Bobby’s voice hurts Sam’s heart, but Sam can’t let Bobby’s feelings stop him. There’s too much at stake, and Sam won’t risk losing Dean again. He hardens his resolve to see this through and do whatever he has to in order to save Dean.
“You won’t lose us, Bobby,” Sam promises quietly. As he hangs up he tells himself he’s not lying--at least one of them will survive. Sam will see to that.