The Other Side of the Door
The Other Side of the Door
Dean stared at Sam, his eyes raised as he looked at the bruise forming on his little brother’s arm. Amanda Tarken had a hell of a push when it came down to it. Dean had almost managed to get the journal from the memorial in the school halls when Sam had shown up, talking to the night guard, leading him away from Dean as he worked. The guard wasn’t supposed to be there just yet, Dean knew from the way he’d watched his routine, but Sam had shown up out of nowhere, talking him away from Dean until it was all clear.
They didn’t speak a word as they walked down to the haunted basement, knowing it was the only place they could go where they wouldn’t get caught. The locks were easy to pick and the construction had stopped until the lawsuit was decided. It was looking more and more like the school was going to settle though so it was a good thing Dean had found what he needed.
It wasn’t until he had the damn journal doused in lighter fluid that the ghost showed up and went nuts though. “Dean!” Sam screamed, pushing him aside just as the ghost got to him. She got Sam instead, knocking him back into the wall. Sam stood his ground though, hands clutching an iron blade as he sliced through her when she got close enough.
Dean grabbed the journal and lit it, the air suddenly pulling tight in the room until it was hard to breathe, and then it was gone. Amanda Tarken was a ghost no more.
Sam’s tee shirt had ridden up though, caught between his back and the wall and Dean had seen. So with the ghost gone, he crossed over to Sam, jerked his shirt up, and gaped at the mass of bruises on his brother’s stomach.
“What the hell, Sam?”
Sam pushed him off, his eyes burning with anger. “Leave me alone, Dean.”
“Who the hell did that to you?” His eyes narrowed, “Ethan?”
“Please, Dean. Like Ethan could make a bruise like that even if he wanted too.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m handling it.”
“Who?”
“Fuck!” Sam yelled. “Jason, alright. What the fuck do you care?” Sam spat the words at him. “I’m not your boyfriend anymore.”
“Sammy,” Dean’s voice sounded defeated and he knew it, but he was in love with Sam and even if he could never say that out loud, he could admit that he would never stop worrying about him. “I’m still your big brother. Nothing changed that.”
Sam looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears as he shook his head. “Yes, it did.”
Sam left the room, but he didn’t make it but a step or two outside the door. Dean could see him through the glass top of the door and Sam leaned back, his shoulders slumping and shaking in a way that he knew meant he was letting loose his tears. Sam slithered down the door, his back to Dean but so damn close he ached to reach out to him. He couldn’t though, couldn’t move past those doors and do what he really wanted to. Instead, he moved to the door, mirroring his brother’s motion as he slide down.
He heard a soft sob from the other side of the door, and closed his eyes, feeling his own tears fall.
On to A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words