Day 44: Sun Room (4th Shift)
As soon as she had the chance, Sheena ninja'd herself out of the cafeteria and away from the conversation she'd been semi-forced to have. She probably could have just clammed up and told the boys to go away, but she'd kind of owed at least Endrance some kind of explanation. It wasn't everyday the embodiment of darkness pops up and delivers a
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"Ow, jeez," he snapped, more out of principle than anything else. He turned around and fixed his gaze on Dean. Getting the sudden irrational feeling that something was going to blow apart right here-that right here would be when all the secrets came tumbling into the open-he huffed out without thinking, "You really wanna talk about who's getting sloppy?"
For which he immediately felt guilty about; Dean had nothing to do with what'd happened that night with Lelouch or the night before with the sedation or...getting dragged to hell. But the accusation of being sloppy hit a little too close to home because he remembered spending six months thinking, If it's not perfect, Dean will die, and after he got sent back, Dean died again, anyway. And the truth was, he had no idea what he was doing now. It just seemed like whatever he did, it wasn't enough or it wasn't right, that he wasn't good enough to keep his brother safe. ( ... )
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His lips parted, but his mind had blanked on him again. Sure, he'd been distracted, but he thought he'd been covering it up and focusing on what had to be done; it wasn't like he'd broke down or anything, except obviously he hadn't been covering his tracks as well as he should've if Sam noticed he wasn't on top of his A-game. Did he suspect about Cold Oak? Or was he just calling him out without knowing what was the problem? Please be Door 2, Dean thought, even though Door 2 was still a crap door when it could easily lead into Sam diggingDean's eyebrows drew together. If he acted like he was guilty, then he might as well be guilty to Sam, even if they both knew it. He wasn't gonna fold that easily ( ... )
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Sam furrowed his brow and crossed his arms, but he didn't take a step back. "Nothing," he replied, lifting his eyes back up at Dean. "Nothing, I didn't mean it like that."
If he was backpedaling, so be it. He couldn't exactly tell Dean what he was thinking about, even if he managed to figure out how to put it into words.
Not that he expected Dean would let this go so easily, either. Sam hadn't been oblivious to the tension that had simmered beneath the surface from the very start-that sense that something was off-and he knew Dean must've felt it, too. They'd been ignoring it up until now, but now that Sam had let it out, it was too late to put it back out of sight. Once, he would've thought it was for the best. Put it out in the open and deal with it, that was what he used to do. But these days...these days, he was as content as Dean was to act as if everything was fine. It all felt ( ... )
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He shifted his weight again, feeling himself growing defensive as he was pushed even further back into a corner. A corner he'd entirely made on his own, of course, but that didn't change the fact that this was where he was.
God. This was such a mess. He'd questioned before whether he should've maybe told Dean the truth from the start, but even looking at it now, he had no idea if that would've gone over any better. Would it have changed anything? Or would they still be here, only with Dean knowing that Sam hadn't been able to save him like he'd promised, and knowing all the things that he'd done since then ( ... )
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"I wasn't talking about him," Sam said, a little impatiently. Partially because the notion of him giving a damn about anyone being less than nice to Lelouch wasn't even worth consideration, and because as much as this wasn't what he'd been referring to earlier, he couldn't deny that it'd been bothering him from the start. The assumption that these people were all dangerous because of what they could do. He hadn't missed the way Dean would tense up, grow wary. How far did that extend to him?
There was a reason why Sam had kept his mouth shut about the visions until he couldn't any longer. Ever since then...he didn't know anymore. The line between Dean being afraid for him and Dean being afraid of him wasn't so clear.
But Jesus, he didn't know how they'd gone from-whatever to talking about this. He hadn't ever meant for it to get here, with Dean basically asking him to spell out his issues on his abilities. He kind of wished Dean had just caught on and then they could...pretend like the subject was never raised. The way they ( ... )
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It looked like Sam was in full backpedal mode, which meant even if Dean wanted to know what the hell was his problem, he probably wasn't gonna drag it outta his brother. Sam shared when he was ready, whether Dean was ready for it or not, and there'd been plenty of times, especially when Dad died, that he wished Sam would keep it to himself. If he didn't want to do this, fine. Dean knew when he might as well be pulling teeth from his brother and unlike his brother, he knew when to quit. Dean found himself unconsciously reaching up to rub at his shirt over the healing tattoo, itching at it and wishing that weird feeling in the back of his head would just go away - something didn't feel right about this, even something like just arguing with ( ... )
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He stared at his brother for a moment, knowing that if he didn't say it now, he never would. Bringing this up? Not really something he'd planned, to say the least, and he knew that if he had half a chance to think about it next time, he'd keep his mouth shut.
Thinking about it further now, yeah, no, he shouldn't have gone there. Dean didn't need to deal with whatever personal crap Sam had accumulated. Even if it...kind of had to do with Dean, but he knew better than to think that that was all it was. Still-it was too late to take it back and he didn't know if he'd be making it worse or better by keeping it to himself now that Dean already knew that something was wrong in the first place. Even if his brother wasn't going to keep pushing now, Sam had started something and-it'd fester there. And sooner or later, one of them was gonna snap and if it came out then, it was going to definitely be ( ... )
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But he kept his mouth shut.
Dammit, Sam hadn't forgotten about the files - apparently dying-but-not-really hadn't changed his mind about it, and for a brief second, Dean was annoyed that Sam could still keep his focus on stuff like that even in the middle of a fight; usually it was useful but right now? He wished his brother would space on things here and there like everyone else. Dean reached up, rubbing the back of his neck before dropping his hand and shrugging.
"Guess so. It'd help stick to whatever cover they got for us here," and Dean just barely resisted the urge to pointedly add unlike a certain someone, and went on, "I guess the battle plan will be we'll hook up in my room and check the doctor offices or something. Might have to split up to cover more offices though ( ... )
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At least they were agreed on the files. He thought they should check out the file rooms, too (they had to have been identified on those crudely drawn maps as file rooms for a reason, right?) and he wasn't all that comfortable with the idea of splitting up given their track record so far. Dean had been...not himself in one way or another twice, Sam had freaking died, and God knew what else could happen tonight ( ... )
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