A Worried Brother (s7)

[hunter_returns]

Sam pulled away from the drivethrough window, stopping long enough to push back the little plastic lid and take a sip of the hot, bitter coffee. He glanced in the rear view mirror, checking on his fitfully sleeping brother in the back. He was pushing himself too hard, asking too much, and as usual, trying to do it all alone. The scotch had finally put him under long enough for Sam to haul his brother into the backseat.

The cup balanced on one leg, Sam turned the car back onto the highway. They had to drive most of the night if they wanted to meet up with Bobby on time, and Dean was in no shape to drive. Again. He switched the headlights on and accelerated, breathing in the warm smell of the coffee against the cool interior of the Impala.

He was trying not to let his frustration show, and the longer Dean insisted he was fine, the more frustrated Sam got. He wasn’t all right. He was coming apart at the seams, and he wasn’t letting anyone help him. Dean was back to that same self-destructive bent he had when he’d come back from Hell. Thinking he wasn’t worth saving and so wrapped up in self-hatred and guilt that he didn’t even see how much it was hurting the people that loved him.

He sipped at the coffee, letting the cup rest between his legs as he drove. Dawn was just starting to tint the sky a pale shade of blue. It was going to be one hell of a sunrise.

He’d told Dean the truth. He still saw Hell, still saw Lucifer, and there were still times when he had a hard time telling the difference between what was real and what wasn’t. But he was getting a handle on it. He felt better. He wasn’t laboring under any illusion – he’d never be all right. He’d always be a Grade A Freak, but at least he was managing. Sam.. couldn’t help but wonder if Dean resented him a little because somehow he’d made peace with his past, with everything that he’d done.

His mind amended bitterly that if the stubborn jackass would just talk to someone.. he’d probably feel better too.

But he wouldn’t. Because it was Dean and he didn’t know any other way.
So Sam drove on in silence. He drove, and he worried. He was losing his brother and he didn’t know how to save him this time.

Comments

[100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com]

"No, the point is that I lost the trial because everything is on me." He took the bottle back, but didn't swig from it. Instead, he replaced the cap, and held it between his legs.

"Talk. That's what you want to do, Sam. Talking doesn't it. It won't change anything." It won't stop him coming apart, it won't do anything.

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

Sam barely suppressed the violent urge to grab Dean and shake him until his teeth rattled. "Did you hear a goddamn thing I said in there? It's not on you. Yeah, you called me when Dad went missing, but it was my decision to stay. Mine."

"You've done that since we were kids. Stop. It's not all on you. Stop paying for my mistakes."

[100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com]

It's not like you had much choice there, was it, Sammy? Me dragging you back in took that damned choice away.

And while he knew deep down that staying with him was a mistake... It still kinda hurt to hear Sam say it aloud. Like a damned shot through the heart.

"...fine, whatever." He went back to looking out the window and trying to fix the gaps in his damned emotional dam, making himself unreadable.

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

Punching him won't solve anything.
Punching him won't solve anything.

"Ass." Sam clenched the wheel and shoved the key back into the ignition, jamming the car into drive. There were only so many times he could extend his hand and get it bitten before he was going to seriously reconsider doing it again.

Would he ever stop completely? No. But there were times when he very seriously wondered.

[100deaths-a-day.livejournal.com]

"Be careful with the damned car." He snapped, before going back to looking out of the window.

While most of his trouble lay in the fact that he didn't want to talk about his issues, firmly set in the belief that it wouldn't and couldn't change anything so what was the point in burdening others with his problems when he can suck it up and deal with it on his own... the other problem lay in that he'd been sucking it up and dealing alone for so long, he didn't know how to let others help.

It's times like these he almost wished Sam would punch him. He knew how to deal with that better; and it'd also not only let Sam vent some of the irritation he was feeling, but Dean knew it was less than he deserved.

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

The longer they drove, the more irritated and upset Sam got. He needed to help Dean and his dumbass brother couldn't or wouldn't let him.

Sam had been doing better since the reservoir. Not great, but better. Until he lost control of his emotions. When he got pissed off, frightened or hurt, the flames licked a little closer to his field of vision and Lucifer became that much clearer.

He tried to ride it out, white knuckling the steering wheel for miles until he finally pulled off, pale and sweating. "Drive. Just fucking drive."