SPN: Blood is Thicker than Water... || Pt. 1
Title: Blood is Thicker than Water… (1/9)
Series: Blood, Water, and Whiskey
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 470
Spoilers: BuaBS
Part 1. || Part 2. || Part 3. || Part 4. || Part 5. || Part 6. || Part 7. || Part 8. || Part 9.
Dean caught up with his brother in a town off I-35, just south of Duluth, called Eldes Corner. He thanked God for what seemed like the hundredth time in several days that his brother still had his GPS-chip phone with him. He had gotten ahold of a different operator and could use the runaway story again. At the first interstate sign indicating a motel, he turned off. The first place he came to was called the Sundown Motel. He checked for a Jim Rockford. He wasn’t disappointed. Even in his panic, Sam held to tradition but Dean couldn’t decide if it was habit or if he really wanted to be found.
He deftly picked the lock and eased the door open. The room was completely dark except for the wedge of early sunlight from the door.
“Sam?” he called softly. No answer. He tried again. “Sammy?”
A muffled sigh came from the darkest corner next to the bed. Dean could see a rumpled head just peeking over the top. He was struck suddenly by a memory from years ago, when he thought he had lost Sam in some podunk town when Dad was out hunting. He came back to the motel room to find his little brother huddled beside the bed, dirty face streaked with tears. ”I just wanted to find a library or something, Dean. I thought you wouldn’t notice me gone. I saw you looking for me. Are you mad? I’m sorry, please don’t be mad…”
He shut the door, walked over, and slid down beside his little brother and drew his knees up to match his brother’s posture. He didn’t say anything, just sat. After a few minutes, Sam tipped his head up from his arms.
“I almost raped her. I almost killed Jo,” he whispered. “I shot you, Dean.” ”I’m so sorry, Dean… please don’t tell Dad I ran off.”
Dean didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at the wall and remembered. The streaky face, the bullet ripping into his shoulder, Jo’s terrified eyes.
“You didn’t. You didn’t, Sam.” He was quiet for several long minutes. “I was just worried about you, dammit. Don’t run off anymore, you hear? I can’t protect something I can’t find.” Even as he said it in his twenty-eight year old voice, he could hear himself at fourteen saying the same thing. It hurt like hell to see, out of the corner of his eye, his little brother’s face crumple. He couldn’t make anything else come out because he felt a hard lump in his throat and he was not going to cry. Not now.
They sat for hours in the dark. Dean thought about Jo and how he had promised to call, but sometimes, blood is just thicker than water and some things don’t matter at the time.
Series: Blood, Water, and Whiskey
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 470
Spoilers: BuaBS
Part 1. || Part 2. || Part 3. || Part 4. || Part 5. || Part 6. || Part 7. || Part 8. || Part 9.
Dean caught up with his brother in a town off I-35, just south of Duluth, called Eldes Corner. He thanked God for what seemed like the hundredth time in several days that his brother still had his GPS-chip phone with him. He had gotten ahold of a different operator and could use the runaway story again. At the first interstate sign indicating a motel, he turned off. The first place he came to was called the Sundown Motel. He checked for a Jim Rockford. He wasn’t disappointed. Even in his panic, Sam held to tradition but Dean couldn’t decide if it was habit or if he really wanted to be found.
He deftly picked the lock and eased the door open. The room was completely dark except for the wedge of early sunlight from the door.
“Sam?” he called softly. No answer. He tried again. “Sammy?”
A muffled sigh came from the darkest corner next to the bed. Dean could see a rumpled head just peeking over the top. He was struck suddenly by a memory from years ago, when he thought he had lost Sam in some podunk town when Dad was out hunting. He came back to the motel room to find his little brother huddled beside the bed, dirty face streaked with tears. ”I just wanted to find a library or something, Dean. I thought you wouldn’t notice me gone. I saw you looking for me. Are you mad? I’m sorry, please don’t be mad…”
He shut the door, walked over, and slid down beside his little brother and drew his knees up to match his brother’s posture. He didn’t say anything, just sat. After a few minutes, Sam tipped his head up from his arms.
“I almost raped her. I almost killed Jo,” he whispered. “I shot you, Dean.” ”I’m so sorry, Dean… please don’t tell Dad I ran off.”
Dean didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at the wall and remembered. The streaky face, the bullet ripping into his shoulder, Jo’s terrified eyes.
“You didn’t. You didn’t, Sam.” He was quiet for several long minutes. “I was just worried about you, dammit. Don’t run off anymore, you hear? I can’t protect something I can’t find.” Even as he said it in his twenty-eight year old voice, he could hear himself at fourteen saying the same thing. It hurt like hell to see, out of the corner of his eye, his little brother’s face crumple. He couldn’t make anything else come out because he felt a hard lump in his throat and he was not going to cry. Not now.
They sat for hours in the dark. Dean thought about Jo and how he had promised to call, but sometimes, blood is just thicker than water and some things don’t matter at the time.