(no subject)
There are lists he keeps in his head. Lists of facts, like Sam doesn't like blue ink pens, only black, and Castiel isn't allowed near strip clubs ever again. Although, that last one might not be an issue anymore. For all he knows, Castiel went off to help some other sorry fuck try to make the right decision on something; not that anybody else is going to have to fight the apocalypse. It's over now.
It's over. Now.
He thinks about Sam a lot.
He thinks about Adam a little.
He never really got to know the kid, and he's sorry. He tried to tell him on that day. He knows some facts about Adam. Cooked all of his own meals because he had to. He understands the 'had to' aspect of life. He wishes his younger brother didn't. That there were no 'had to' events for him, involving being Michael's vessel. The job he stuck him with. He hadn't meant to. The only thought in his head, when he was trying to get out of that shack, was making sure Sam got out with him. It wasn't until right after, when the door slammed shut behind him, that he remembered Adam.
He's got a whole separate list of facts for things that he doesn't talk about. If he doesn't say them out loud, they don't have to become real to anyone else. He didn't eat anything for a few days after he lost both of his brothers. He drank plenty, though. Drank until he was numb, then kept going. Woke up one morning with his cheek resting in vomit that he didn't remember heaving, but he knew it was his. He had isolated himself.
After that, he got himself cleaned up and left the motel. He couldn't make himself remove the mess on the bed, though. That was all that remained of what Sam and Adam had done for the world. He laughed a little as he drove out of the parking lot. The fate of the world, sealed in puke.
He could have gotten to know more about Adam, if he had taken the time. Maybe if they had stuck Adam in the panic room with him. 'Maybe' doesn't bring either of his brothers back.
He goes to Lisa because he made a promise to Sam. Wonders what kind of demand Adam would have made of him, if he had been given any kind of chance for it. He got to experience life with Sam. He knew that brother, knew what he was capable of. He will never know Adam. Never know what kind of pizza he liked; if he had a favorite kind of laundry soap. Sam liked Tide. Dean used whatever the fuck he could find.
He has a beer at Lisa's. No more alcohol after that. He busies himself with mowing her lawn and thinks about a time when a djinn gave him a glimpse of a life where he did this exact same thing. The lawn at Adam's house wasn't overgrown at all. The ghouls must have taken care of it.
He lost both brothers in May. He's got plenty of things that Sam left behind. His old duffel bag, his laptop - he doesn't so much as touch these things until the middle of July, when he's clearing everything out of the trunk to sell it. He doesn't need the weapons anymore. But he only moves Sam's things aside. He'll never sell them. Never drop them off at Goodwill.
In August, he buys black ink pens. Never blue. Sam doesn't like blue ink pens, only black. He puts pen to paper and makes an actual list of what he knows about Adam. He doesn't need to do this for Sam at all. He feels like he can't figure anything out unless he can physically see it.
Ben reads over his shoulder as he writes. He's never heard of Adam. Wants to know who he is.
Dean apologizes to Ben and Lisa after he loses his temper and throws the notebook across the room.
He learns to appreciate the internet for something other than porn, imagines Sam making a snide remark about it. Imagines Adam at his other side, absolutely silent because he has no idea what the kid would say about it.
Dean hates that he thinks of Adam as 'the kid.'
Lisa wants him to see a therapist. He laughs until he cries. But he goes.
It's almost September when he packs an actual fucking suitcase and hugs his new family goodbye. He's got this assignment now, from the counselor. He's going to get to know who Adam is by talking to his friends in Wisconsin. He already made his peace with Sam's death. Mostly. But he can't let go of the feeling that he failed Adam. Forced him into the role that should have been his.
Somehow, he ends up in Minnesota, instead. There's a faded For Sale sign in the yard, at Adam's house. It's one of those that can be stuck in the lawn. Dean stares at it for a few minutes, then yanks it up and tosses it in one of the trash cans. The lawn still looks good. He picks the lock on the back door and lets himself in.
There are boxes in the basement. He sorts through them, then empties one on the basement floor and starts refilling it with Adam's things. He hears the front door open upstairs; someone calls out cautiously. He smirks to himself and thinks what the hell and goes upstairs for what he thinks might be the last con he's ever going to pull. He doesn't have to lie when he says he's a relative, and there's this pressure in his chest that disappears for the first time since it settled there in May. The realtor barely blinks as she hands him the keys and leaves him there.
And for the first time since he can remember, Dean smiles.
It's over. Now.
He thinks about Sam a lot.
He thinks about Adam a little.
He never really got to know the kid, and he's sorry. He tried to tell him on that day. He knows some facts about Adam. Cooked all of his own meals because he had to. He understands the 'had to' aspect of life. He wishes his younger brother didn't. That there were no 'had to' events for him, involving being Michael's vessel. The job he stuck him with. He hadn't meant to. The only thought in his head, when he was trying to get out of that shack, was making sure Sam got out with him. It wasn't until right after, when the door slammed shut behind him, that he remembered Adam.
He's got a whole separate list of facts for things that he doesn't talk about. If he doesn't say them out loud, they don't have to become real to anyone else. He didn't eat anything for a few days after he lost both of his brothers. He drank plenty, though. Drank until he was numb, then kept going. Woke up one morning with his cheek resting in vomit that he didn't remember heaving, but he knew it was his. He had isolated himself.
After that, he got himself cleaned up and left the motel. He couldn't make himself remove the mess on the bed, though. That was all that remained of what Sam and Adam had done for the world. He laughed a little as he drove out of the parking lot. The fate of the world, sealed in puke.
He could have gotten to know more about Adam, if he had taken the time. Maybe if they had stuck Adam in the panic room with him. 'Maybe' doesn't bring either of his brothers back.
He goes to Lisa because he made a promise to Sam. Wonders what kind of demand Adam would have made of him, if he had been given any kind of chance for it. He got to experience life with Sam. He knew that brother, knew what he was capable of. He will never know Adam. Never know what kind of pizza he liked; if he had a favorite kind of laundry soap. Sam liked Tide. Dean used whatever the fuck he could find.
He has a beer at Lisa's. No more alcohol after that. He busies himself with mowing her lawn and thinks about a time when a djinn gave him a glimpse of a life where he did this exact same thing. The lawn at Adam's house wasn't overgrown at all. The ghouls must have taken care of it.
He lost both brothers in May. He's got plenty of things that Sam left behind. His old duffel bag, his laptop - he doesn't so much as touch these things until the middle of July, when he's clearing everything out of the trunk to sell it. He doesn't need the weapons anymore. But he only moves Sam's things aside. He'll never sell them. Never drop them off at Goodwill.
In August, he buys black ink pens. Never blue. Sam doesn't like blue ink pens, only black. He puts pen to paper and makes an actual list of what he knows about Adam. He doesn't need to do this for Sam at all. He feels like he can't figure anything out unless he can physically see it.
Ben reads over his shoulder as he writes. He's never heard of Adam. Wants to know who he is.
Dean apologizes to Ben and Lisa after he loses his temper and throws the notebook across the room.
He learns to appreciate the internet for something other than porn, imagines Sam making a snide remark about it. Imagines Adam at his other side, absolutely silent because he has no idea what the kid would say about it.
Dean hates that he thinks of Adam as 'the kid.'
Lisa wants him to see a therapist. He laughs until he cries. But he goes.
It's almost September when he packs an actual fucking suitcase and hugs his new family goodbye. He's got this assignment now, from the counselor. He's going to get to know who Adam is by talking to his friends in Wisconsin. He already made his peace with Sam's death. Mostly. But he can't let go of the feeling that he failed Adam. Forced him into the role that should have been his.
Somehow, he ends up in Minnesota, instead. There's a faded For Sale sign in the yard, at Adam's house. It's one of those that can be stuck in the lawn. Dean stares at it for a few minutes, then yanks it up and tosses it in one of the trash cans. The lawn still looks good. He picks the lock on the back door and lets himself in.
There are boxes in the basement. He sorts through them, then empties one on the basement floor and starts refilling it with Adam's things. He hears the front door open upstairs; someone calls out cautiously. He smirks to himself and thinks what the hell and goes upstairs for what he thinks might be the last con he's ever going to pull. He doesn't have to lie when he says he's a relative, and there's this pressure in his chest that disappears for the first time since it settled there in May. The realtor barely blinks as she hands him the keys and leaves him there.
And for the first time since he can remember, Dean smiles.