/pretends this song was made before the series started rather than after it hehe100deaths_a_dayJuly 2 2012, 06:41:46 UTC
[He's deviated from his normal music choice to request this. Might not be a song either of them like especially not Dean, but it find the words he can't. The announcer reads out the shout-out before in a slightly amused tone - Sammy, would it kill you to pick up the phone? - And Dean leaves his phone on the bed, resisting the urge to pace as he waits for any sign that Sam heard it.
Okay, so maybe he's going a little crazy without sam here. He's not even going to ask him back, he just needs to hear from him or something...]
Right! No songs from the future here, nope, haha.onlytobenormalJuly 2 2012, 07:23:16 UTC
[Maybe Sam was just looking for an excuse to call, even if he really shouldn't have been. It was just luck he'd heard that on the radio and he was half-convinced he was probably just seeing things that weren't even there when the DJ came on with that shout-out. Maybe he just wanted to talk to his brother too bad.
It was weird... first time out on his own and as much as he was enjoying some parts of it, some part missed his stupid, pain in the ass brother being around. Hated how he'd left even if he hadn't had much of a choice.
Dean could expect that call and Sam would be nervously waiting on the other end. If Dean didn't pick up, he wouldn't be surprised. This call wasn't promised to end well either way.]
Re: Right! No songs from the future here, nope, haha.100deaths_a_dayJuly 2 2012, 07:31:46 UTC
[As soon as his phone rung, he picked it up. He didn't even check the caller ID. However, once he'd picked up, then there came the moment of hesitation. Was this the right thing to do? Sam was off enjoying life away from them, did he really want to talk to him because without Sam, he felt more lost than a nun in a whorehouse he was missing his brother. And felt more than a bit lonely now that Dad had decided he could hunt on his own (by way of taking off) - sure, that had been what he wanted, but... well, he'd always seen it as him and Sam. Not just him.
Eh, screw it. Of course he does.] Sammy? [Maybe he should have checked the caller ID. Maybe then he wouldn't sound as tentatively hopeful as he does.]
[There was a moment of silence when that familiar voice answered. It was just a strange comfort to hear it, even if Dean still used that stupid, kiddie nickname. He was still upset with Dad, with Dean, but... just right now, he was trying to put that aside.]
Hey, Dean. [He paused again, biting at his lip before adding more playfully...] I see you're finally listening to some new music, dude. Is it the apocalypse? Pretty sure that's a sign.
[Dean's laughing and that makes Sam relax some too. He smiles to himself a little.] Right, dude... it's okay to admit you like a newer song, you know. Take a step into the future, Dean.
[He pauses a beat. School wasn't such a great topic last time they spoke, but...] It's good, Dean. Different, but I'm doing okay. How are things with you?
[It wasn't a great topic, but despite what you think he really is proud of you. He does want to know, it was just everything else about this mess that he didn't like. The fight, the leaving without more than a slammed door, The not knowing whether you'd pick up the phone, not knowing if he should phone, knowing there's no place for hunting, and thereby him, in your new life.
There's a pause before] Well, y'know. I'm fine. [Dad's been disappearing more, and the time he does spend here he's drunk off his ass either wallowing in guilt or shifting said guilt (and making Dean feel worse), he feels like he's lost a right arm, but he's not going to worry you with that. The same as he could tell you he's supposed to be on bedrest at the minute with fifteen stitches across his side and abdomen. But he won't tell you that either.] Are you keeping up okay? Have you got enough cash? [Is there something he can do, even if it means not coming down, to help?]
[Sam really didn't bet on Dean being proud of him or happy with him. He was surprised Dean even wanted to call him or wanted him to call after he stood by and watched Dad kick him out on his ass... and that still stung deep. The one guy he'd always been able to count on, the only constant in his life... Hell, the guy who'd done all the little things Dad should have been doing in the first place wasn't there anymore.] You are? So nothing's been up?
You know, Dean, it's not easy here. He's gone from having a brother who's always there, who's done things for him since before he could even walk... Maybe he can manage up here on his own, but he'd still like you here, Dean. Had always hoped maybe you two could get away together even if he knew you'd never leave Dad deep down
( ... )
Nothing. [which translated as: nothing you want to hear about. You got out, he's trying not to drag you back in.
It doesn't matter if you'll make ends meet in your opinion. In a few days, a few hundred dollars will find it's way through your door, unmarked envelope. He knows where you are, Sam, because you left doesn't mean he doesn't know. you think he'd really go not knowing?
As for Dad, there's a pause. It's short... but still too long. He doesn't know a thing, and Dean doesn't intend to tell him.] ...He'd understand. [Is all he can say, quietly.] He does miss you, Sam. I know you won't believe it, but he does. [And as for the fight, Dean had been in a lose/lose situation. Or, lose/lose/lose as it turned out. How he worked was simple: all he wanted was his family. Together. It broke him a little he couldn't have that.]
Dean, come on. [Sam misses you, Dean, he really does. It feels like he's missing something without his family there and he can be as pissed as he wants, but it doesn't change the fact that he misses even Dad.
But he can't do this, not right now. He can't tell you how he knows Dad wouldn't understand, how Dad meant what he'd yelled and what he did. He knows you want your family back together, but it's got to be mutual. Sam doesn't want to go back to hunting and fighting with Dad, he wants a home.
And he's sorry he can't give that to you, Dean, he is. Maybe it doesn't show through, but it's there, deep down. Still, he's not going to say that. He just draws in a breath and tips his head back.] He should be happy. I'm not there to cause trouble for him. Anyway, you didn't want me to call to talk about Dad, right?
[He runs a hand down his face] Nothing, Sam. Nothing you want to hear. You wanted to get away from the hunt and from dad... [The slight hesitant pause there where he almost adds 'and from me', but he doesn't.] ...and you got away. But that's how I am - but I'm not going to sit there telling you with tales of the newest scars added to the ever-growing collection [Both mental and physical] because you don't really want to know. So believe me when I say nothing's up. [all the slight bitterness that had creeped into his voice is dropped out of it with a physical effort. He didn't get you to call for an argument, either.]
No, I didn't call for that. [There's silence for a few moments from Dean's end of the phone, then the distinct hiss of a beer being cracked open. He takes a few mouthfuls, then sighs heavily.]
I wanted you to call because you wouldn't have picked up. [That's all there was to it: Leave the call in Sam's hands, he'd have been more likely to do it... if he wanted to speak to Dean. If Dean had called, he's sure, you wouldn'
( ... )
[Sam's jaw tightens as he leans back in his desk chair, tossing down the pencil he'd been holding because there's no way he can get back to studying right now. It's hard to even hold his tongue when Dean starts talking-- yeah, he wanted away from hunting, he wanted away from Dad, but he hates that it's a free pass to talk to him like that apparently, make it like he's the bad guy.
What was so horrible about wanting to go to college? He'd never said anything about leaving the family or not caring if they were well or not.] Yeah, alright. Whatever. [His own tone is harder now because you don't get to guilt trip him over this, Dean, and you're an idiot if you think he doesn't care if you're hurt or if you need help.]
[But you're right,he's got nothing to say to that. He probably wouldn't have picked up because he's hurt and angry and Winchesters are all stubborn, especially when they're licking their wounds
( ... )
[He chuckles a little, but it's not an amused one. He'd like to think it was bitter... but he knows it was definitely more sad.] You'll get used to it. [He crosses the room as he talks, looking out of his window, currently able to stay still for too long. Not that Sam can see any of what he's doing, of course.] You've got your new friends and your new life. [He'll bet you haven't even told them about him. Not even in just 'I have a brother' capacity.]
[He sighs again, moves again, this time crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair when he's sat.] sorry. I'm not doing this well. Chick-flick was always more your crap. [a slight tease edges that last sentence.]
I never said you couldn't have a part in it, Dean. [If his tone is harsh, he can't help it. He's hurt too and hearing Dean like that, hearing all this tossed back at him... he can't just keep taking it or ignoring it.] Dad was the one who told me to stay away... How do you feel about that, man?
[Maybe he doesn't really want you to answer, but the question is out now and he can't take it back... but then yo're apologizing and he relaxed just a fraction.] Yeah, well... I'm used to you sucking, dude. It's fine. Just-- can we talk like we used to? Without fighting for a night, man? [At least this type of fighting. Normal bickering, he could handle. Kind of expected.]
[He bites back the response of 'If I had a part in it, you'd have called without me having to ask you over the damned radio'. By finishing his drink. He throws it into the bin from across the room. Well. It hits the edge and the can falls noisily to the floor. Eh, close enough.] It sucks. It pissed me the hell off, too. I want you back. Here. But a the same damned time, I want you to be freaking happy. [And that's the only thing that's stopping him asking you back.]
...But there's no place for me there, and you know it. Besides, Dad needs me here.
That's all I wanted. [but he can't even do that right.] shoot the shit or something. [Pretend like he's not alone in this goddamn motel room.]
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Okay, so maybe he's going a little crazy without sam here. He's not even going to ask him back, he just needs to hear from him or something...]
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It was weird... first time out on his own and as much as he was enjoying some parts of it, some part missed his stupid, pain in the ass brother being around. Hated how he'd left even if he hadn't had much of a choice.
Dean could expect that call and Sam would be nervously waiting on the other end. If Dean didn't pick up, he wouldn't be surprised. This call wasn't promised to end well either way.]
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Eh, screw it. Of course he does.] Sammy? [Maybe he should have checked the caller ID. Maybe then he wouldn't sound as tentatively hopeful as he does.]
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Hey, Dean. [He paused again, biting at his lip before adding more playfully...] I see you're finally listening to some new music, dude. Is it the apocalypse? Pretty sure that's a sign.
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How's school?
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[He pauses a beat. School wasn't such a great topic last time they spoke, but...] It's good, Dean. Different, but I'm doing okay. How are things with you?
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There's a pause before] Well, y'know. I'm fine. [Dad's been disappearing more, and the time he does spend here he's drunk off his ass either wallowing in guilt or shifting said guilt (and making Dean feel worse), he feels like he's lost a right arm, but he's not going to worry you with that. The same as he could tell you he's supposed to be on bedrest at the minute with fifteen stitches across his side and abdomen. But he won't tell you that either.] Are you keeping up okay? Have you got enough cash? [Is there something he can do, even if it means not coming down, to help?]
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You know, Dean, it's not easy here. He's gone from having a brother who's always there, who's done things for him since before he could even walk... Maybe he can manage up here on his own, but he'd still like you here, Dean. Had always hoped maybe you two could get away together even if he knew you'd never leave Dad deep down ( ... )
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It doesn't matter if you'll make ends meet in your opinion. In a few days, a few hundred dollars will find it's way through your door, unmarked envelope. He knows where you are, Sam, because you left doesn't mean he doesn't know. you think he'd really go not knowing?
As for Dad, there's a pause. It's short... but still too long. He doesn't know a thing, and Dean doesn't intend to tell him.] ...He'd understand. [Is all he can say, quietly.] He does miss you, Sam. I know you won't believe it, but he does. [And as for the fight, Dean had been in a lose/lose situation. Or, lose/lose/lose as it turned out. How he worked was simple: all he wanted was his family. Together. It broke him a little he couldn't have that.]
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But he can't do this, not right now. He can't tell you how he knows Dad wouldn't understand, how Dad meant what he'd yelled and what he did. He knows you want your family back together, but it's got to be mutual. Sam doesn't want to go back to hunting and fighting with Dad, he wants a home.
And he's sorry he can't give that to you, Dean, he is. Maybe it doesn't show through, but it's there, deep down. Still, he's not going to say that. He just draws in a breath and tips his head back.] He should be happy. I'm not there to cause trouble for him. Anyway, you didn't want me to call to talk about Dad, right?
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No, I didn't call for that. [There's silence for a few moments from Dean's end of the phone, then the distinct hiss of a beer being cracked open. He takes a few mouthfuls, then sighs heavily.]
I wanted you to call because you wouldn't have picked up. [That's all there was to it: Leave the call in Sam's hands, he'd have been more likely to do it... if he wanted to speak to Dean. If Dean had called, he's sure, you wouldn' ( ... )
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What was so horrible about wanting to go to college? He'd never said anything about leaving the family or not caring if they were well or not.] Yeah, alright. Whatever. [His own tone is harder now because you don't get to guilt trip him over this, Dean, and you're an idiot if you think he doesn't care if you're hurt or if you need help.]
[But you're right,he's got nothing to say to that. He probably wouldn't have picked up because he's hurt and angry and Winchesters are all stubborn, especially when they're licking their wounds ( ... )
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[He sighs again, moves again, this time crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair when he's sat.] sorry. I'm not doing this well. Chick-flick was always more your crap. [a slight tease edges that last sentence.]
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[Maybe he doesn't really want you to answer, but the question is out now and he can't take it back... but then yo're apologizing and he relaxed just a fraction.] Yeah, well... I'm used to you sucking, dude. It's fine. Just-- can we talk like we used to? Without fighting for a night, man? [At least this type of fighting. Normal bickering, he could handle. Kind of expected.]
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...But there's no place for me there, and you know it. Besides, Dad needs me here.
That's all I wanted. [but he can't even do that right.] shoot the shit or something. [Pretend like he's not alone in this goddamn motel room.]
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