Part 5 As he turned the ignition, Sam’s raspy voice carried across the car. “You mind if I wait till we get to the next stop to do laundry?” “You really think I give THAT much of a fuck about laundry?” He pulled the car into a small chain restaurant. Sighing, Sam sat up and reached for the door handle. “Where are you going?” Sad hazel eyes met his. “You don’t trust me enough to even get your food order right?” Almost desperate, Dean searched those eyes for any hint of sarcasm, or maybe even he held a small hope for some humor. There wasn’t any. Sam was serious. “You’re not my maid.” “What else is there at this point?” The sight of his brother almost in tears for being told he can’t retrieve dinner like a maid or a fucking dog was too much for Dean. “You’re my brother.” “Something else I can’t fix for you.” Again, no humor or sarcasm. Just a flat, despondent tone. Jesus Christ. The kid actually believed somewhere in that big ass brain of his that if he wasn’t playing fetch he was useless. “Where in the hell did you get that-“ Cutting himself off, Dean realized exactly where his little brother had gotten that idea. From his big brother. His great big brother who has pretty much decided lately that Sam WAS fucking useless. Like the kid didn’t convince himself of that regularly with an exceptional OCD tendency. “I’ll get it, Sam. Because you feel like shit, okay?” It took Sam a moment to realize that Dean wasn’t being nasty. His face showed surprise at Dean’s concern, which only added to the guilt the older man felt. Had it really been that long since he’d taken any notice of Sam’s comfort? Apparently the answer to that was yes. When they got back to the motel, Sam filled his already empty drink with water and sat on the bed. Spreading the food out on the table, Dean turned to him. “Get over here and eat.” Again, a shocked expression crossed his brother’s face. Dean didn’t have to search his mind long for that one, either. He forgot the last time he’d actually sat down with Sam at a table for anything. Recent memory was always one of them sitting at the table, one on the bed. By Dean’s choice. And that was on the rare occasion they were both actually in the same room. Apparently that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Sam, either. Now that he was thinking about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even seen the kid eat. Suddenly Dean wasn’t hungry. For the last god only knew how long, Sam had gone, as ordered like a good whipped puppy, to fetch his brother’s dinner, and probably hadn’t even gotten anything to eat for himself.
Part 6 As Sam sat down, Dean stared at him. “How long were you going to let things go like this?” “What’s that mean?” “I’ve been a total dick. Not like you to let that go for long.” “It’s okay. I understand.” “Christ, Sammy, I don’t want you to understand. I want to you tell me what a fucking asshole I’ve been to you and get pissed about it!” With a shake of his head, Sam was staring that floor and pinching the bridge of his nose. For a moment, Dean thought the younger man was about to have some sort of seizure. Until he realized that he was just trying to literally pinch back tears. Dropping to his knees in front of his brother, Dean reached for his hands. “What? What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” Sam shook his head. “Just didn’t realize how much I missed you calling me ‘Sammy’ until you just did.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that, either. He bet Sam could remember the date and time. Probably what he was wearing and what town they were in. Big girl was like that. He started to say that, but he stopped himself. Any joke at Sam’s expense wouldn’t be received as a joke right now in his head. It would just be more of the same. Dean berating him. It was time to stop. “Okay, if you won’t say it, I will. Enough is enough. I’ve been a dick.” “I told you I under-“ “I know you understand, and that just makes it worse that I didn’t see it. I’m not saying I haven’t had a reason, but I think the statute of limitations ran out a while ago and I didn’t figure it out.” Dean’s phone rang. Sighing, Sam turned from him, expecting him to answer it. He ignored it. “Cass needs you.” “Cass needs someone to take the stick out of his ass, too, but that’s not happening right now, either.” He pointed at the shakes on the table. “I didn’t think when I bought the salad. Probably kill your throat right now. But how about you try to get those shakes down?” The fact that something as simple and stupid as offering his milkshake to his brother completely shocked him seem to drive it home to Dean. Before he could say anything else, Cass appeared in the room. “I tried to call, but I got no answer. I’m glad you are still here.” “Not now, Cass.” “I’m glad you are well, Sam. Dean said you were drunk.” Any progress Dean had made with his brother was gone. The look on Sam’s face made Dean want to bitch-slap the angel. But he had to admit, at least to himself, that Dean had given the angel the impression that it was okay to talk to or about Sam like that. Some fucking big brother he’d turned into. “I’m busy, Cass. Later.” “Dean, just go. I promise I won’t leave the room. I won’t go anywhere, I won’t call anyone, I won’t cause trouble.” A memory slammed into Dean. The words and the tone were an exact replica of teenage Sam to John when he and Dean would leave him to go on a hunt. It used to aggravate Dean when he heard it directed at their father, but it really hurt to hear it directed at him. No anger, just resignation. That this was the way it was, this was how it was going to be, and nothing Sam did would make a difference. Time to change that. “Cass, go find a cloud to play in. I’ll call you when we’re ready to move.” Stressing the ‘we’, he hoped Sam understood. After Cass was gone, he sat on the end of the bed and stared at the younger man. “Here’s how I’m hoping this is going to go.” “Whatever you want, Dean.”
Part 7 “No, that’s not it. Drink the milkshakes. Then you can either get some sleep or you can go with me to do laundry, if you feel up to it?” Sam stared at him for a long moment. The thought that Dean might actually mean he wanted Sam to go along, not to babysit, but because he might actually want the company was too much for the younger Winchester to hope for. All Dean could see in his little brothers eyes was hope. If he said the wrong thing now, he’d crush the kid and he knew it. “Look, I’m making an effort, here, Sammy. I want to fix whatever the fuck went wrong between us.” He grimaced. “And didn’t that sound like we broke up.” A soft laugh followed by a sad sigh. “Didn’t break up, Dean. Just broke.” “So we fix it.” Sam actually snorted, and Dean took that to be a good sign. “I didn’t say it would be easy, but I’m willing if you are.” When his brother’s eyes met his, Dean couldn’t see anything but his little brother in them. “I’ve been willing. Just waiting for you to decide to give me a chance.” Standing up, Sam moved to his duffle. When he pulled out the bottle, Dean wondered if Sam was going to have to drink to deal with him. Instead he put the bottle on the nightstand and started shoving his clothes in. “Guess we need to find a laundromat first.” Just like that. With a few words from him, Sam was ready to let him back in and move on. Where had his little brother learned forgiveness like that? Sure as hell didn’t learn from him. With his bag over his shoulder, Sam grabbed both milkshakes. Smiling at Sam for the first time in way too long, Dean followed him out the door.
I was so pissed off at Dean when I was reading this, I couldn't stop swearing at him the entire time XD This was awesome - a broken Sam, and a jackass and guilty Dean are the best mix! :)
Ohhhh Poor Sam. Him heading downhill was completely understandable. And I loved Dean rushing to try to figure out what was happening and trying to fix it at the same time.
God, I just wanted to just slap the shit outta Dean while reading this. Kinda like how I felt about him during season 4... :/ I'm a sucker for broken!Sam and asshole!Dean fics where at the end Dean realizes just how unfairly he is treating his brother. This story was perfect! :)
As he turned the ignition, Sam’s raspy voice carried across the car. “You mind if I wait till we get to the next stop to do laundry?”
“You really think I give THAT much of a fuck about laundry?” He pulled the car into a small chain restaurant.
Sighing, Sam sat up and reached for the door handle.
“Where are you going?”
Sad hazel eyes met his. “You don’t trust me enough to even get your food order right?”
Almost desperate, Dean searched those eyes for any hint of sarcasm, or maybe even he held a small hope for some humor. There wasn’t any. Sam was serious.
“You’re not my maid.”
“What else is there at this point?”
The sight of his brother almost in tears for being told he can’t retrieve dinner like a maid or a fucking dog was too much for Dean. “You’re my brother.”
“Something else I can’t fix for you.”
Again, no humor or sarcasm. Just a flat, despondent tone. Jesus Christ. The kid actually believed somewhere in that big ass brain of his that if he wasn’t playing fetch he was useless.
“Where in the hell did you get that-“ Cutting himself off, Dean realized exactly where his little brother had gotten that idea. From his big brother. His great big brother who has pretty much decided lately that Sam WAS fucking useless. Like the kid didn’t convince himself of that regularly with an exceptional OCD tendency.
“I’ll get it, Sam. Because you feel like shit, okay?”
It took Sam a moment to realize that Dean wasn’t being nasty. His face showed surprise at Dean’s concern, which only added to the guilt the older man felt. Had it really been that long since he’d taken any notice of Sam’s comfort? Apparently the answer to that was yes.
When they got back to the motel, Sam filled his already empty drink with water and sat on the bed. Spreading the food out on the table, Dean turned to him. “Get over here and eat.”
Again, a shocked expression crossed his brother’s face. Dean didn’t have to search his mind long for that one, either. He forgot the last time he’d actually sat down with Sam at a table for anything. Recent memory was always one of them sitting at the table, one on the bed. By Dean’s choice. And that was on the rare occasion they were both actually in the same room. Apparently that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Sam, either. Now that he was thinking about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even seen the kid eat. Suddenly Dean wasn’t hungry. For the last god only knew how long, Sam had gone, as ordered like a good whipped puppy, to fetch his brother’s dinner, and probably hadn’t even gotten anything to eat for himself.
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As Sam sat down, Dean stared at him. “How long were you going to let things go like this?”
“What’s that mean?”
“I’ve been a total dick. Not like you to let that go for long.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“Christ, Sammy, I don’t want you to understand. I want to you tell me what a fucking asshole I’ve been to you and get pissed about it!”
With a shake of his head, Sam was staring that floor and pinching the bridge of his nose. For a moment, Dean thought the younger man was about to have some sort of seizure. Until he realized that he was just trying to literally pinch back tears. Dropping to his knees in front of his brother, Dean reached for his hands. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Sam shook his head. “Just didn’t realize how much I missed you calling me ‘Sammy’ until you just did.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that, either. He bet Sam could remember the date and time. Probably what he was wearing and what town they were in. Big girl was like that. He started to say that, but he stopped himself. Any joke at Sam’s expense wouldn’t be received as a joke right now in his head. It would just be more of the same. Dean berating him. It was time to stop.
“Okay, if you won’t say it, I will. Enough is enough. I’ve been a dick.”
“I told you I under-“
“I know you understand, and that just makes it worse that I didn’t see it. I’m not saying I haven’t had a reason, but I think the statute of limitations ran out a while ago and I didn’t figure it out.”
Dean’s phone rang. Sighing, Sam turned from him, expecting him to answer it. He ignored it.
“Cass needs you.”
“Cass needs someone to take the stick out of his ass, too, but that’s not happening right now, either.” He pointed at the shakes on the table. “I didn’t think when I bought the salad. Probably kill your throat right now. But how about you try to get those shakes down?”
The fact that something as simple and stupid as offering his milkshake to his brother completely shocked him seem to drive it home to Dean.
Before he could say anything else, Cass appeared in the room. “I tried to call, but I got no answer. I’m glad you are still here.”
“Not now, Cass.”
“I’m glad you are well, Sam. Dean said you were drunk.”
Any progress Dean had made with his brother was gone. The look on Sam’s face made Dean want to bitch-slap the angel. But he had to admit, at least to himself, that Dean had given the angel the impression that it was okay to talk to or about Sam like that. Some fucking big brother he’d turned into.
“I’m busy, Cass. Later.”
“Dean, just go. I promise I won’t leave the room. I won’t go anywhere, I won’t call anyone, I won’t cause trouble.”
A memory slammed into Dean. The words and the tone were an exact replica of teenage Sam to John when he and Dean would leave him to go on a hunt. It used to aggravate Dean when he heard it directed at their father, but it really hurt to hear it directed at him. No anger, just resignation. That this was the way it was, this was how it was going to be, and nothing Sam did would make a difference.
Time to change that. “Cass, go find a cloud to play in. I’ll call you when we’re ready to move.” Stressing the ‘we’, he hoped Sam understood. After Cass was gone, he sat on the end of the bed and stared at the younger man. “Here’s how I’m hoping this is going to go.”
“Whatever you want, Dean.”
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“No, that’s not it. Drink the milkshakes. Then you can either get some sleep or you can go with me to do laundry, if you feel up to it?”
Sam stared at him for a long moment. The thought that Dean might actually mean he wanted Sam to go along, not to babysit, but because he might actually want the company was too much for the younger Winchester to hope for.
All Dean could see in his little brothers eyes was hope. If he said the wrong thing now, he’d crush the kid and he knew it. “Look, I’m making an effort, here, Sammy. I want to fix whatever the fuck went wrong between us.” He grimaced. “And didn’t that sound like we broke up.”
A soft laugh followed by a sad sigh. “Didn’t break up, Dean. Just broke.”
“So we fix it.”
Sam actually snorted, and Dean took that to be a good sign. “I didn’t say it would be easy, but I’m willing if you are.”
When his brother’s eyes met his, Dean couldn’t see anything but his little brother in them.
“I’ve been willing. Just waiting for you to decide to give me a chance.” Standing up, Sam moved to his duffle. When he pulled out the bottle, Dean wondered if Sam was going to have to drink to deal with him. Instead he put the bottle on the nightstand and started shoving his clothes in. “Guess we need to find a laundromat first.”
Just like that. With a few words from him, Sam was ready to let him back in and move on. Where had his little brother learned forgiveness like that? Sure as hell didn’t learn from him. With his bag over his shoulder, Sam grabbed both milkshakes.
Smiling at Sam for the first time in way too long, Dean followed him out the door.
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This was awesome - a broken Sam, and a jackass and guilty Dean are the best mix! :)
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And, awwww, milkshake peacemaking.
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thanks!
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