Somebody that I used to know

[hopeitsworthit]

The motel room is dark. Anyone without a functional sense of hearing might be excused for thinking it's empty.

But guess what?

It's not.

Dean's seated in the shitty orange-upholstered chair, a three-quarters empty bottle of Jim Beam dangling down between his hands.

The expression on his face is one that could melt glass.

He's waiting for Sam to get back.

It ain't gonna end well.

Comments

[gavemea_45]

He waits until he's damn sure the extra effects have worn off before heading back, but he's still a little exhilarated all the same.

Tired, but exultant.

This could work. This could really work.

Sam unlocks the motel room door as quietly as he can and eases it open.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean doesn't move.

He wants to see the expression on Sam's face when he realizes he ain't alone.

Plus he's not even sure what the hell he wants to say.

[gavemea_45]

He edges in, trying to be quiet so he doesn't wake Dean, giving the room a fast once-over out of pure habit--

--only to freeze in his tracks as the dim light through the cracked-open door glints off the bottle in his brother's hand.

"Dean."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Hey there, Sammy."

His voice doesn't slur.

It probably should, hell, it would've just a couple months ago.

But not now.

[gavemea_45]

"Hey."

There's no mistaking the look on his face, even in the dark.

Shit.

"Thought you'd be asleep by now."

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean snorts.

"Figured."

The bottle between his hands swings a little, back and forth.

Maybe he's doing it on purpose.

But probably not.

"You never did stop thinkin' I was stupid."

[gavemea_45]

He kicks the door shut and switches on the light, then levels a look at him.

"Dean, I don't think you're stupid. I never have."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Yah-huh."

Dean does not sound like he believes it.

"Try selling me some shit that's actually true, for once. It'd make a nice change."

[gavemea_45]

"If you're not going to believe anything I tell you, what's the point of trying?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"You could try saying shit that's less the kinda thing that'd come out of the mouth of a dumbass."

You know. For starters.

"Or you could, I dunno, remember that I fucking know you. So if I hear you talkin' shit, of course I ain't gonna believe it."

Jesus, Sammy.

[gavemea_45]

"Fine."

Sam glares at him.

"I don't think you're stupid. Stop saying I do."

[hopeitsworthit]

"You sure were treatin' me like I was, for a while there."

Dean's delivery is sharp, though the bottle of booze is still dangling from his fingertips.

"Thought we were done with that, all the sneakin' around and shit. But I guess not."

[gavemea_45]

Knowing Dean's right makes his own voice sharper than he'd meant it to be.

"I needed some air," Sam snaps. "After that last thing with Jay. So I went to walk it off. What's the problem with that?"

[hopeitsworthit]

Here Dean takes a long swig from the bottle of Beam before setting it down hard on the table.

Nothing breaks, though. Kinda lucky, if you think about it.

"What about that last thing with Jay? You got a problem with how it all went down?"

[gavemea_45]

"What I've got a problem with is knowing more than I ever wanted to about my brother ending up dead because of me!"

[hopeitsworthit]

He could get angry. It'd be real fucking easy.

Dean can feel it simmering in his veins, the need to yell, or throw a chair, or throw a punch --

But.

He's just so goddamned tired, and so freaking tired of being this tired.

So what comes out instead is --

"Yeah, well. I know a lot too much about a whole metric shit ton of things, Sammy. And I tried to keep you from knowing about all that. Goddammit, I tried."

[gavemea_45]

"... I know."

Guilt twists inside him, coiling around the simmering hatred that's always there any more, deep down.

Lilith is going to pay for this. Even if it takes my last breath.

Sam draws a breath and lets it out, then moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I know," he says again. "I know you did. But what I don't get, Dean, is why."

[hopeitsworthit]

Okay, maybe Sam's really the stupid one here.

"Because you're my brother, Sammy. Jesus."

[gavemea_45]

Sam can't hold Dean's gaze. He stares at the floor instead, and says nothing for several long moments.



"Still trying to look out for me, huh."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Sometimes, Sam," Dean says, eyes drifting closed.

He's so goddamn tired.

"You are such a fucking dumbass."

Like Dean was ever gonna stop looking out for him.

Even Hell didn't make a damn lick of difference.

[gavemea_45]

"Yeah, well."

The silence between them stretches out.




"I'm sorry."

He says it quietly at first, directed at his feet, but then drags in a breath and raises his head to look Dean in the eye.

"Dean. I'm sorry. I just..."

Sam trails off there, unable to find the right words.

[hopeitsworthit]

"I'd say 'for what', but I've got a feelin' it's gonna be for all the wrong things."

Dean takes a deep breath, scrubbing his hands over his face.

"Jesus, Sam. Just -- just stop. Can you do that?"

Stop what?

Everything?

It's entirely possible that even Dean doesn't know.

[gavemea_45]

"I could say 'everything,' but that'd probably just piss you off," he quips, although without any real humor.

Sam takes a deep breath, and nods.

"I can try," he says, very quietly.

"I know things have been ... weird, I guess. I don't want them to be. So if that's what it takes..."

Although he's pretty sure he knows what it's going to take, in the end.

Once Lilith's dead, everything'll be better.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean used to think in righteous absolutes, too.

Now, not so much.

"I don't know what it's gonna take, Sam. Not really. But -- well. If you're askin' me I'd say that'd be a damn good start."

It would be more of a relief if he really believed it just now.

But maybe that'll come later.

He hopes so.

[gavemea_45]

He scrubs the back of his hand over his mouth and nods again.

"Okay."

He looks up at Dean.

"As for the rest, we'll figure it out."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Yeah."

Dean's grin is a little bit crooked, but a lot more genuine than it's been in a while.

"You bet your ass we will."

All of it.

Somehow.

It'll be great.