Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likely_evil) wrote2009-11-20 11:21 am
likely_evil) wrote2009-11-20 11:21 am
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50prompts: Rattled and Scared, the Brothers Cover their Wounds in
Sam knew that look in his brother's eyes as he sat next to the fireplace at Bobby's place. It was the hurt and lost look. The "I don't want to talk about it" look. The "I'm hurting and I can't let myself show it."
The "I failed" look that Dean wore anytime someone died on a job. But this time Sam knew the look better than Dean could know.
It was the look Sam had worn so many times before - Jess. Dad. Madison. Dean. And even Ruby. The pain of losing someone who you loved more than just a girl in the next town, or the buddy you saw once a year if you were lucky. he knew that pain intimately, and he knew it wasn't something that you could face alone. Hell, Dean had already shown just how well he could handle it on his own.
Dean had lost Jo. Sam knew his brother had denied that relationship on purpose, and it wasn't because he had been afraid of Ellen. Hell, Ellen was the closest person that Sam had as a mother in his life, and Jo was like a kid sister. He remember how they had been good friends growing up until the day came that Dad took his boys away and they never returned.
There was always something between them, and Sam had figured that Dean didn't want to go after Jo because he felt she deserved better. That or she had become his when this is all over dream. Seeing the way he looked at Jo the night before and hearing the whole "last night on earth" speech had amused him, but it was Dean's defense mechanisms. If she shot him down, he could blame the alcohol. It wouldn't hurt because it wasn't "real".
But seeing him starting to break down in that supply shop had almost done Sam in. He knew what his brother was going through. Every thing he tried to do hadn't worked. And he was building the bomb that was going to be the death of the girl he loved. Sam wish he could just do it himself and let Dean not have to have that pain - like how Dean offered to take the gun from him when Sam had to face his own failures and finish Madison's final request.
His brother didn't cry, but focused on his work. Sam would have been worried if Dean had cried. When Dean cried... it was too much to bear.
Sam couldn't say goodbye to Jo. She met his eyes and nodded, and that was all they needed. They both knew, and the guilt was starting to just add up in his mind and he couldn't say I'm sorry anymore because it just didn't work. Sorrys wouldn't fix this.
His fault. Sam broke the seal and Lucifer was free and now their family was paying the price.
At least they went out as hunters. Their deaths meant something. And even if the angels hated them and God was missing, Sam still whispered a soft prayer that they would find their way to heaven and not the other way. They didn't deserve to burn for this.
Now it was a day later and they were two men down and Dean just sat there because there was nothing he could focus on. The Colt hadn't worked, and their gambit had been a failure. Sam just watched him from the other room, not sure how to help Dean through this anymore than Dean had known how to help Sam all those years ago when Jess was pinned to the ceiling and Sam had been willing to burn right there beside her.
But Dean wasn't alone this time.
Finally Sam did the only thing he knew how to. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was left from the night before and two shot glasses, then walked over to Dean. His brother looked up, the lost look quickly disappearing behind the cool exterior.
"Sam, don't..." Dean stated as Sam dragged a chair over and turned it to face his brother.
"Shut up," Sam said, and he watched his brother start in confusion. Sam just put the two glasses on the small end table between them and poured the shots. He then held one out to Dean. "Just take it."
Dean did, taking the shot glass before looking at Sam again. Sam gave him a sympathetic look, then just held his shot glass in the air in a silent salute. Dean licked his lips and nodded, and they both took their shots.
The first of many that night in honor of all those lost, and the loved ones who would never be forgotten.
The "I failed" look that Dean wore anytime someone died on a job. But this time Sam knew the look better than Dean could know.
It was the look Sam had worn so many times before - Jess. Dad. Madison. Dean. And even Ruby. The pain of losing someone who you loved more than just a girl in the next town, or the buddy you saw once a year if you were lucky. he knew that pain intimately, and he knew it wasn't something that you could face alone. Hell, Dean had already shown just how well he could handle it on his own.
Dean had lost Jo. Sam knew his brother had denied that relationship on purpose, and it wasn't because he had been afraid of Ellen. Hell, Ellen was the closest person that Sam had as a mother in his life, and Jo was like a kid sister. He remember how they had been good friends growing up until the day came that Dad took his boys away and they never returned.
There was always something between them, and Sam had figured that Dean didn't want to go after Jo because he felt she deserved better. That or she had become his when this is all over dream. Seeing the way he looked at Jo the night before and hearing the whole "last night on earth" speech had amused him, but it was Dean's defense mechanisms. If she shot him down, he could blame the alcohol. It wouldn't hurt because it wasn't "real".
But seeing him starting to break down in that supply shop had almost done Sam in. He knew what his brother was going through. Every thing he tried to do hadn't worked. And he was building the bomb that was going to be the death of the girl he loved. Sam wish he could just do it himself and let Dean not have to have that pain - like how Dean offered to take the gun from him when Sam had to face his own failures and finish Madison's final request.
His brother didn't cry, but focused on his work. Sam would have been worried if Dean had cried. When Dean cried... it was too much to bear.
Sam couldn't say goodbye to Jo. She met his eyes and nodded, and that was all they needed. They both knew, and the guilt was starting to just add up in his mind and he couldn't say I'm sorry anymore because it just didn't work. Sorrys wouldn't fix this.
His fault. Sam broke the seal and Lucifer was free and now their family was paying the price.
At least they went out as hunters. Their deaths meant something. And even if the angels hated them and God was missing, Sam still whispered a soft prayer that they would find their way to heaven and not the other way. They didn't deserve to burn for this.
Now it was a day later and they were two men down and Dean just sat there because there was nothing he could focus on. The Colt hadn't worked, and their gambit had been a failure. Sam just watched him from the other room, not sure how to help Dean through this anymore than Dean had known how to help Sam all those years ago when Jess was pinned to the ceiling and Sam had been willing to burn right there beside her.
But Dean wasn't alone this time.
Finally Sam did the only thing he knew how to. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was left from the night before and two shot glasses, then walked over to Dean. His brother looked up, the lost look quickly disappearing behind the cool exterior.
"Sam, don't..." Dean stated as Sam dragged a chair over and turned it to face his brother.
"Shut up," Sam said, and he watched his brother start in confusion. Sam just put the two glasses on the small end table between them and poured the shots. He then held one out to Dean. "Just take it."
Dean did, taking the shot glass before looking at Sam again. Sam gave him a sympathetic look, then just held his shot glass in the air in a silent salute. Dean licked his lips and nodded, and they both took their shots.
The first of many that night in honor of all those lost, and the loved ones who would never be forgotten.