(no subject)
Summary - Dean doesn't know what he gets into, when he tries to get Sam to lighten up. This is set in Season 1 and rated PG13
Good Intentions
Part 1
Disclaimer: Supernatural and the Winchesters don't belong to me and I just borrowed them to play!
Dean Winchester looked at his brother with worry. The kid was sitting in the passenger seat beside him, once again brooding. Not that this was really anything new, Sam had been perfecting the art of brooding ever since he'd been two. Where other toddlers would throw themselves on the ground and have a temper tantrum, little Sammy would sit down on the couch and stare into nothingness. Over the years his abilities had only improved and if he had a card, it would read - Sam Winchester, BA, MA, PHD of Brooding. Yep, that sounded about right. Yet in the last few weeks it had been worse than ever. There was hardly ever a smile on the kids face. And Dean new exactly what had done it to him - Sarah, the girl he left behind, too afraid the Sam Winchester curse might hit her.
Although Sam denied it, Dean knew it to be true. His kid brother fell in love with the cute antic dealer the moment he laid eyes on her. Still shaken by the death of his girl friend, which had been too reminiscent of the way their mother had been killed, he believed everything around him was cursed to die. No matter how hard Dean had tried to convince him otherwise, nothing had worked.
So instead of staying and spending some downtime with the beautiful girl, Sam had left it with a kiss and insisted on driving off to the next job. It had broken Dean's heart to see his kid brother this way.
After finishing their last job yesterday, they now were on the way to nowhere in particular, hoping their father was going to send another text message with coordinates. It was getting dark and after grabbing a bite to eat in a diner along the highway they were still looking for a place to stay tonight. Lately their evenings played out pretty much the same way. They would find a cheap motel and Dean would ask Sam to go out for a beer or two. The younger brother would feign tiredness and refuse and so the older would go out by himself, find some girl or play pool and then return to find the kid tossing and turning unable to sleep or torn up by nightmares.
Not tonight though Dean decided, he was not going to let this happen again. Turning off the interstate, he let the Impala roll down the main street of the first small rural town he came across. Just when he thought he was leaving the last building behind, he found what he'd been looking for - 'Joe's Tavern'. His mind was made up, no matter what; Sam was going to have a good time tonight.
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The black classic muscle car pulled into the parking lot and came to a stop in front of the building. Dean checked his watch; it said 8 PM, before he turned off the engine, the sudden silence tearing the younger Winchester out of his reverie.
"Where are we?" Sam looked almost confused.
Giving him a smirk, Dean responded, "Joe's Tavern, we're going to have some fun."
Almost instantly he could see a wall being built up by his brother.
"Dean, I really don't feel up to this, I'm tired and I want to take a shower."
Without missing a beat, the older man took the key out of the ignition and opened the door, "That's too bad, because there is not motel in town and I'm not going to leave until I had a few beer. So you can either sit here and mope, or come in and have one with me."
Without turning, he closed the door and went inside, not really surprised, when he felt his brother's present behind him before he reached the building. He had counted on Sam following him rather than staying in the car by himself.
Entering the twilight of the smoke filled bar, Dean pointed at an empty booth, then stepped up to the bar. Sam sat down, still unsure, if he really wanted to be here or rather return to the Impala, where he at least felt relatively comfortably. Seeing his brother return with two beers in his hands, he leaned back, deciding, he might as well stay. Dean wouldn't leave him alone if he would try to leave now. A drink or two wouldn't hurt and then he could always threaten to take a cab.
He received one of the bottles from Dean's hands, taking a large swig before he sat it on the table. There was a smile on the other hunter's face, as he took a drink also.
"See, it's not that bad now, or is it? We haven't done this in a while."
"Yeah, well, guess I have other things on my mind right now. Like finding dad, you probably should too." Sam's displeasure was clearly visible.
"I do, belief me, I do, but sometimes I have to let some steam off or I'll explode. So do you."
"I'm fine, no steam to let off from me."
"Right, that's why you've been moping and brooding for weeks." Dean gave him a knowing look.
"Hey, I don't have to run around with a constant smile on my face to be okay." The younger man protested, ready to make his case, when he was interrupted by a skimpily dressed blonde setting a bottle and two shot glasses on the table.
"Here, just as ordered." She said, bending over to let her poorly covered breasts rub against Sam's arm.
Blushing, the lanky kid stammered, "Didn't order that."
"That's not what your buddy here told me!" her voice now only a provocative whisper.
Rubbing against him once more, she received several bills and a look from Dean that told her very clearly she needed to back off. Pouting, she turned and walked away, letting her slightly too big bottom swing while doing so.
Face still reddened, his mouth open, Sam took a breath, then angrily looked at his brother, "So that's your plan? Get me drunk and then have this slut have her way with me?"
"Can't blame a guy for trying?" A glare from the kid, made his smirk disappear and instead he continued, "Look Sammy, I didn't ask her to do this, just to bring the booze over here. And as for getting you drunk, I couldn't do that even if I wanted too. Well, I could, but than I would have to force feed you the bottle."
For a moment it was quiet, then Sam said, "Sorry, I guess I am a little uptight? One wouldn't hurt."
"That's my boy." Dean agreed, filling the glasses and handing one to Sam.
Swallowing the liquor, the younger man's face contorted and he grabbed his beer, downing most of the bottles contents before setting it down again.
Straight Vodka? You know I hate the stuff."
"Yeah, but you hate whiskey even more and they don't have the girly stuff you like around here." He waved for the waitress to bring two more beers, then filled the shot glasses again. Seeing Sam's doubting look, he said, "Take your time, no one expects you to keep up with me."
"What, you think I can't?" The kid pouted.
"I know you can't, you've always been a light weight."
"That was before Stanford. You think I didn't have friends?"
"No, but I figured all your friends were geeks like you, well except of Jessica and all you did was study and talk smart." Dean smirked.
"Typical." Without wasting another breath, Sam took the shot and gulped it down. He couldn't help a smile crossing his face at the memory of all the weekends he'd spent with Jess and their friends. Dean was right in one thing though, he hadn't been the party type, at least until he'd met Jess. She had pulled him out of his constant studying. In the beginning he had done it just for her, but pretty soon, he actually had genuine fun spending time with Jess' friends, who fast had become his friends also. The smile left his face and was replaced with sadness, as he thought of why he was no longer with them.
Dean, who didn't miss the emotions playing on his younger brother's expressive face, reached over and padded his hand for a moment, before he handed him the second beer. It hurt seeing Sam in pain, especially since there was nothing he could say to make it better. Darn it, the kid needed a break, he was wound so tight, he was going to explode unless he relaxed. And he was going to make darn sure he was going to do just that.
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It took another beer and two more shots, before Dean saw some of the tension leave Sam. Looking around, the younger man spotted the jukebox.
"How about some music?" He asked, getting up and making his way to the other wall.
He searched his pockets, then pulled out some coins and put them in the slot. After pushing a few buttons, he came back and slid back into the booth.
"You'll like what I chose."
"What is it, some of your girly music?" Dean grinned, almost scared to find out.
He was surprised, when the first notes started to play, immediately recognizing AC/DC's 'Highway to Hell'.
"I thought you didn't like my music?"
This time it was Sam, who smirked, "It grows on you!" He moved the empty bottle in front of him and grabbed a new one, at the same time filling his glass again also.
After downing the shot and taking a swig from his beer, he said, "You remember the hunt in Georgia? What was it again?"
"Oh, you mean the Raven Mocker? How could I forget, I almost bought it on that hunt. The only reason why I'm still alive is because you recognized it right before it got to me and because of it, were able to shoot it with the consecrated iron rounds."
"Yeah, well, it was really ugly!" Sam shook with the memory, "Be happy you didn't see its real face."
Dean laughed, "Well, it was your first major kill and dad took both of us to that bar, allowing you to have a beer."
"It was the best, I felt so grown up and dad told me how good I did."
"I know, it was fun, although I think dad regretted the next day that he allowed you to have that beer."
"Only because you kept exchanging the bottle behind his back, giving me your partially empty one. I must have ended up having something like three beers instead of one." The younger man chuckled.
"See, told you, you always were a light weight."
"I was sixteen!" Sam defended himself.
"Yeah, but dad had to drag you out of place." The other hunter smirked.
"I hardly ate anything that day."
"You puked in the Impala and then were sick for two days." Dean continued his argument.
"I was sixteen!" Sam repeated suddenly out of reasons but not willing to let his brother win.
Dean laughed, "Just confess, I win."
"Okay, you win." He agreed good-naturedly, emptying his beer and getting up, "I'll have to use the rest room, why don't you order me another."
Giving the other man a smirk, he made his way to the back where the bathrooms were located. Dean followed him with his eyes, surprised at the steadiness of his gait. By now the Sammy he knew from before Stanford would have been on very rubbery legs and very close to passing out. The kid really did grow up in those years away and yet, to him, he would always be his baby brother. But what was even more important right now, he finally seemed to loosen up and have some fun.
TBC
Part 2