Untitled #23 (Gen, PG-13)
Title: Untitled #23
Rating: PG-13
Category: Gen oneshot
Word Count: 1597
Characters: Dean and Sam
Spoilers: Vague for S4
Summary: It's after the end, and the Sam and Dean show isn't quite what it used to be.
Author’s Notes: From here. For mimblexwimble who asked for something about "how sure Dean is that Sam will turn, while Sam is sure that he won't and how completely Sam has lost Dean's trust. I want to know how the boys deal with those facts after Lucifer's released/not released, if Sam proves himself to be good. Still uses his powers but doesn't become evil. After everything is said and done, how do they go on? How does Sam live knowing that his older brother had no faith in him, and that it was pretty much his fault? How does Dean live knowing that he didn't have faith in the one person he should have?"
Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
- - - - -
If this was a storybook, all tied up with a bow, it'd be the end. It wouldn't be a happy ending, Dean thinks, because he and Sam didn't go skipping off into the sunset with bluebirds singing on their shoulders and hot chicks with big tits praising them. It would be a sort of happy ending because, hey, at least Lucifer didn't rise. They managed to stop the apocalypse and all that shitstorm, so there's that to be thankful for at least.
But, nope, it can't be called a straight-out happy ending. Ruby's dead--one of those causalities of war--so Sam's not drinking her blood anymore, but he's still able to snap his fingers and turn demons inside out. Sam's not talking to him much either. It wasn't so much the whole "my older brother started the apocalypse" thing that got to him in the end. It was really more of Dean's constant lack of faith that Sam wouldn't go darkside in the end that silenced Sam.
Dean's not saying much either. He's still feeling pretty damn guilty, truth be told, that when push came to shove, he couldn't find it in his heart to have enough faith in Sam to trust him. He couldn't even believe in his own brother when he insisted that his new psychic shit wouldn't push him over the edge. Then again, Sam wasn't exactly giving Dean a lot of reasons to keep that faith, what with Sam off fucking demons and drinking their blood and ripping them apart with only a thought. Yeah, in Dean's defense, Sam wasn't exactly playing a good little soldier either. So, Dean's got guilt, but he's still pretty pissed off all the same.
So, all in all, it's not exactly a happy ending. Lucifer's still trapped, hurrah on that account, but the Sam and Dean show isn't doing all that great. They ride around in the Impala together, but they're a million miles apart all the same.
Dean decides it's a silver lining sort of ending, maybe. Not great, not perfect, but hey, at least Lucifer's not prowling around up on Earth. That's got to be a bit of sunshine right there.
"I wouldn't call it an end at all," Sam says from the passenger seat.
Dean glances over. Either he's been talking out loud to himself or Sam's mind reading tricks are still there. Admittedly, they're not as powerful as they were a couple months ago when Sam was reading the minds of angels, but a little bit of mind reading goes a long way all the same.
"Yeah?" Dean says, turning his eyes back to the road.
"Maybe the end of the Gospel of Winchester--or whatever it's called--but it's not the end. I mean, for us."
Dean shrugs. "I guess so." This is the most they've talked in a while. It's been half-hearted grunts and mutters for the last several weeks. Enough to get by, but not nearly enough to form a conversation.
Honestly, though, Dean doesn't know if he wants to have a conversation with Sam right now. Dean's still torn between wanting to punch Sam in the face over the whole nearly going over the dark edge--again--or punch himself in the face for not trusting his brother, who's supposedly the only person in the world he can trust. Needless to say, Dean's mind isn't getting along too well with itself.
"If you wanna talk about it," Sam says, "we can."
Dean looks over at him again. Sam's staring out the window, shoulders turned away from Dean, head bent down, and his body language clearly says, You don't want to mess with me, but he's the one who just said--
"Talk about what?" Dean says, feigning ignorance.
"You know."
Dean snorts. He knows bullshit when he smells it. "Yeah. Because talking about our feelings has always gone fan-fucking-tastic for us." He glances down at the steering wheel, and he's surprised to see his knuckles gone white.
"Well," Sam shoots back, "it's a hell of a lot better than you sitting over there and just thinking about it. Might as well get it out in the open, huh?" This time, he does lift his head to look at Dean. His hair's partially in his eyes, but there's no mistaking the challenge there.
Dean shakes his head and smiles humorlessly. "You don't want to do this, Sammy."
"Yeah? And why not?"
"Because...because it won't get us anywhere good."
Sam laughs, a bitter, wicked sort of sound. "Like we're doing so great now." He snorts. "Y'know, if you had just trusted me more--"
"Trusted you?!" Dean shouts, feeling something hot snap inside him. "You were off sucking down demon blood, and I was supposed to trust you?"
"Last time I checked, that's what brothers do!"
"That's it!" Dean yells, and he wrenches the steering wheel sharply to the right, pulling the Impala off onto the shoulder of the road. Gravel bursts up around them when he slams the brakes and turns off the engine. He climbs out of the car and throws his door shut just as Sam does the same on the other side.
"What do you want from me?" he shouts at Sam, the car between them. "You want me to get down and kiss your ass and beg your forgiveness for thinking that you were going darkside?"
"Well, it'd sure be a start."
"Aw, fuck you," Dean spits, rounding the front of the car. Sam still hasn't moved from his place by the passenger door. "You know what? I had angels, man, angels thinking you were about to board the Demon Express Train to Hell when you were off doing the nasty with Ruby in the dark. Why wouldn't I have thought you were heading down that road?"
"Because I'm you're brother, and you should've trusted me! Dammit, Dean, I've never let you down, and then, just because what? I tried to use my powers to help you stop the apocalypse, to kill Lilith, then you stopped having faith in me? I've always had your back. Always!"
Dean stands and stares at Sam, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. The urge to grab Sam by the collar of his shirt and punch him right in the face is pretty damn strong. Once, twice, and maybe then, they can move past this. Dean can get this goddamned feeling of guilt off his shoulders, and Sam can shut his everlasting mouth.
"You want to punch me?" Sam says. "Go ahead, and punch me if it'll make you feel better. It's not going to change the fact that when push came to shove, you didn't trust me. So, what? You're either pissed off at me for it or you're pissed off at yourself. Maybe both, but it doesn't mean--"
So, Dean punches him. Hard and sharp, quick enough that even Sam's psychic powers didn't see it coming. Sam doesn't say anything when it happens. He just turns his face away long enough to blink back the instinctive rush of water to his eyes and wipe his split lip.
"I've always been watching out for you, Dean," Sam says, turning towards him. There's a bit of red on his teeth when he talks. "And that's all I was doing before. Just trying to watch out for you. If I didn't think some good could've come from it, I wouldn't have done it." He inhales, turns and spits blood onto the road.
"How can I believe you?" Dean growls. There's a dull ache in his hand where he punched Sam, and he might do it again. Part of him doesn't really want to, but dammit, if Sam says something stupid or cocky, he will.
Sam sighs. "I don't know," he admits. "But if it's yourself you're mad at, then, maybe you should just remember that we won. We won. Okay? And it wasn't just you and it wasn't me. We were both there, and the only reason we won was because we were both there. And," he says and sighs. "And, if that's not enough to change things between us, then, well, I don't know what will be."
Dean stares at him for longer than is necessary before finally turning away and walking down the empty road. He tilts his head back and looks to the sky. He remembers how it turned black on those last days when they were all sure that Lucifer was breaking free to turn everything to blood and bones. Yeah, Sam was there. He was there all right with the demons who were willing to listen to him, and okay, yeah, they had fought. Standing right beside Dean, they fought, and it wasn't human in how they did it--more of that psychic mumbo-jumbo--but they fought the same fight all the same.
Dean stands for a long while before eventually turning around and going back to the Impala. Sam's sitting on the hood on the car, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes on the ground between his feet. Dean sits down beside him.
After a few moments have passed, Sam says, "We'll be all right eventually, y'know."
Dean stays silent. He's still angry. At Sam, at himself, at the whole damn world. But, he can't stay angry forever, he knows. If he can't move past this, then he's no better than what he claimed Sam to be.
"Yeah," Dean finally says. He sighs and looks down at his feet, where the toe of his boot barely touches Sam's own. "Yeah, I know."
End
Rating: PG-13
Category: Gen oneshot
Word Count: 1597
Characters: Dean and Sam
Spoilers: Vague for S4
Summary: It's after the end, and the Sam and Dean show isn't quite what it used to be.
Author’s Notes: From here. For mimblexwimble who asked for something about "how sure Dean is that Sam will turn, while Sam is sure that he won't and how completely Sam has lost Dean's trust. I want to know how the boys deal with those facts after Lucifer's released/not released, if Sam proves himself to be good. Still uses his powers but doesn't become evil. After everything is said and done, how do they go on? How does Sam live knowing that his older brother had no faith in him, and that it was pretty much his fault? How does Dean live knowing that he didn't have faith in the one person he should have?"
Disclaimer: The following characters and situations are used without permission of the creators, owners, and further affiliates of the television show, Supernatural, to whom they rightly belong. I claim only what is mine, and I make no money off what is theirs.
- - - - -
If this was a storybook, all tied up with a bow, it'd be the end. It wouldn't be a happy ending, Dean thinks, because he and Sam didn't go skipping off into the sunset with bluebirds singing on their shoulders and hot chicks with big tits praising them. It would be a sort of happy ending because, hey, at least Lucifer didn't rise. They managed to stop the apocalypse and all that shitstorm, so there's that to be thankful for at least.
But, nope, it can't be called a straight-out happy ending. Ruby's dead--one of those causalities of war--so Sam's not drinking her blood anymore, but he's still able to snap his fingers and turn demons inside out. Sam's not talking to him much either. It wasn't so much the whole "my older brother started the apocalypse" thing that got to him in the end. It was really more of Dean's constant lack of faith that Sam wouldn't go darkside in the end that silenced Sam.
Dean's not saying much either. He's still feeling pretty damn guilty, truth be told, that when push came to shove, he couldn't find it in his heart to have enough faith in Sam to trust him. He couldn't even believe in his own brother when he insisted that his new psychic shit wouldn't push him over the edge. Then again, Sam wasn't exactly giving Dean a lot of reasons to keep that faith, what with Sam off fucking demons and drinking their blood and ripping them apart with only a thought. Yeah, in Dean's defense, Sam wasn't exactly playing a good little soldier either. So, Dean's got guilt, but he's still pretty pissed off all the same.
So, all in all, it's not exactly a happy ending. Lucifer's still trapped, hurrah on that account, but the Sam and Dean show isn't doing all that great. They ride around in the Impala together, but they're a million miles apart all the same.
Dean decides it's a silver lining sort of ending, maybe. Not great, not perfect, but hey, at least Lucifer's not prowling around up on Earth. That's got to be a bit of sunshine right there.
"I wouldn't call it an end at all," Sam says from the passenger seat.
Dean glances over. Either he's been talking out loud to himself or Sam's mind reading tricks are still there. Admittedly, they're not as powerful as they were a couple months ago when Sam was reading the minds of angels, but a little bit of mind reading goes a long way all the same.
"Yeah?" Dean says, turning his eyes back to the road.
"Maybe the end of the Gospel of Winchester--or whatever it's called--but it's not the end. I mean, for us."
Dean shrugs. "I guess so." This is the most they've talked in a while. It's been half-hearted grunts and mutters for the last several weeks. Enough to get by, but not nearly enough to form a conversation.
Honestly, though, Dean doesn't know if he wants to have a conversation with Sam right now. Dean's still torn between wanting to punch Sam in the face over the whole nearly going over the dark edge--again--or punch himself in the face for not trusting his brother, who's supposedly the only person in the world he can trust. Needless to say, Dean's mind isn't getting along too well with itself.
"If you wanna talk about it," Sam says, "we can."
Dean looks over at him again. Sam's staring out the window, shoulders turned away from Dean, head bent down, and his body language clearly says, You don't want to mess with me, but he's the one who just said--
"Talk about what?" Dean says, feigning ignorance.
"You know."
Dean snorts. He knows bullshit when he smells it. "Yeah. Because talking about our feelings has always gone fan-fucking-tastic for us." He glances down at the steering wheel, and he's surprised to see his knuckles gone white.
"Well," Sam shoots back, "it's a hell of a lot better than you sitting over there and just thinking about it. Might as well get it out in the open, huh?" This time, he does lift his head to look at Dean. His hair's partially in his eyes, but there's no mistaking the challenge there.
Dean shakes his head and smiles humorlessly. "You don't want to do this, Sammy."
"Yeah? And why not?"
"Because...because it won't get us anywhere good."
Sam laughs, a bitter, wicked sort of sound. "Like we're doing so great now." He snorts. "Y'know, if you had just trusted me more--"
"Trusted you?!" Dean shouts, feeling something hot snap inside him. "You were off sucking down demon blood, and I was supposed to trust you?"
"Last time I checked, that's what brothers do!"
"That's it!" Dean yells, and he wrenches the steering wheel sharply to the right, pulling the Impala off onto the shoulder of the road. Gravel bursts up around them when he slams the brakes and turns off the engine. He climbs out of the car and throws his door shut just as Sam does the same on the other side.
"What do you want from me?" he shouts at Sam, the car between them. "You want me to get down and kiss your ass and beg your forgiveness for thinking that you were going darkside?"
"Well, it'd sure be a start."
"Aw, fuck you," Dean spits, rounding the front of the car. Sam still hasn't moved from his place by the passenger door. "You know what? I had angels, man, angels thinking you were about to board the Demon Express Train to Hell when you were off doing the nasty with Ruby in the dark. Why wouldn't I have thought you were heading down that road?"
"Because I'm you're brother, and you should've trusted me! Dammit, Dean, I've never let you down, and then, just because what? I tried to use my powers to help you stop the apocalypse, to kill Lilith, then you stopped having faith in me? I've always had your back. Always!"
Dean stands and stares at Sam, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides. The urge to grab Sam by the collar of his shirt and punch him right in the face is pretty damn strong. Once, twice, and maybe then, they can move past this. Dean can get this goddamned feeling of guilt off his shoulders, and Sam can shut his everlasting mouth.
"You want to punch me?" Sam says. "Go ahead, and punch me if it'll make you feel better. It's not going to change the fact that when push came to shove, you didn't trust me. So, what? You're either pissed off at me for it or you're pissed off at yourself. Maybe both, but it doesn't mean--"
So, Dean punches him. Hard and sharp, quick enough that even Sam's psychic powers didn't see it coming. Sam doesn't say anything when it happens. He just turns his face away long enough to blink back the instinctive rush of water to his eyes and wipe his split lip.
"I've always been watching out for you, Dean," Sam says, turning towards him. There's a bit of red on his teeth when he talks. "And that's all I was doing before. Just trying to watch out for you. If I didn't think some good could've come from it, I wouldn't have done it." He inhales, turns and spits blood onto the road.
"How can I believe you?" Dean growls. There's a dull ache in his hand where he punched Sam, and he might do it again. Part of him doesn't really want to, but dammit, if Sam says something stupid or cocky, he will.
Sam sighs. "I don't know," he admits. "But if it's yourself you're mad at, then, maybe you should just remember that we won. We won. Okay? And it wasn't just you and it wasn't me. We were both there, and the only reason we won was because we were both there. And," he says and sighs. "And, if that's not enough to change things between us, then, well, I don't know what will be."
Dean stares at him for longer than is necessary before finally turning away and walking down the empty road. He tilts his head back and looks to the sky. He remembers how it turned black on those last days when they were all sure that Lucifer was breaking free to turn everything to blood and bones. Yeah, Sam was there. He was there all right with the demons who were willing to listen to him, and okay, yeah, they had fought. Standing right beside Dean, they fought, and it wasn't human in how they did it--more of that psychic mumbo-jumbo--but they fought the same fight all the same.
Dean stands for a long while before eventually turning around and going back to the Impala. Sam's sitting on the hood on the car, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes on the ground between his feet. Dean sits down beside him.
After a few moments have passed, Sam says, "We'll be all right eventually, y'know."
Dean stays silent. He's still angry. At Sam, at himself, at the whole damn world. But, he can't stay angry forever, he knows. If he can't move past this, then he's no better than what he claimed Sam to be.
"Yeah," Dean finally says. He sighs and looks down at his feet, where the toe of his boot barely touches Sam's own. "Yeah, I know."
End