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

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

Oh but it is real, Sammy. You know it as well as I do.

The muscles of his arms are taut, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. He knows it's not real. But he can't snap himself out of it, not this time.

Lucifer is right.

He was going to lose his brother. "D-Dean.."

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

He slides his hand up, and uses his thumb to dig into the shoulder joint. He didn't realise that he didn't feel as bad about it as he should. Hell, he didn't feel all that bad about it at all at the minute.

He needed Sam.

"Sam, look at me. It's different. Remember?"

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

Pain shot like fire down his arm where Dean was jamming his thumb against the bundle of nerves. It was enough to slice through the fire and the blood long enough for him to let go of the steering wheel.

Oh no, Sammy. Not so easy this time, is it? Not when you know that I'm right.

He made a low, tight sound of pain, forcing his hand to grab his brother's forearm.

Dean was real. He could hang onto that.

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

"Sam? Are you with me?" He hated the desperate note to his voice.

Sam had to snap out of it. Had to.

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

He clawed his way through the hallucination, through the fire and the blood and the sharp things tearing at him again and again.

Dean.

Sam nearly fell against Dean as he finally broke out of the illusion. His eyes screwed shut, all he could do is gulp in huge draughts of air and try not to shake, not to come apart.

"Y-yeah. M'here."

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

His hand loosened it's grip and relief threatened to overwhelm him.

"Okay." Well, it wasn't okay. Far from. But right now, he was taking what he could. He'd go insane, otherwise.

"Climb over then." because if he pretends nothing's wrong.... well, even then it won't get better. but he can pretend it is.

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

God. This was some kind of sick joke.

Both of them were a hair's breadth away from falling apart into nothing while trying to convince each other that everything was fine and save the world.

Sam gave a shaky nod. He held onto Dean's arm as he got out of the car.

"I can't do this without you, Dean," he said raggedly. "Please." Do whatever it took. Go drinking, find a hooker or three, get into a fight, Sam didn't care anymore. He needed his brother intact.

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

"I know you can't." It was Famine's words he heard in his mind. There's a hole and nothing can fill it. Not drink, not food, not sex. He's feeling that again. He never stopped feeling it, but there's only so much he can lose, and so much he can give before it's going to swallow him whole.

Right now Sam was the only thing stopping it, and the drink was just numbing the ragged edges.

"Just... focus on the job first." And the next one and the next one.

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

Sam made a quiet, broken sound and looked away. He tilted his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes against the throb in his temples.

"Just let me help you," he murmured, not even aware he was speaking out loud. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally and all he wanted was to be able to look at his brother without that nameless terror that one day he was going to be gone.

"Please."

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

The car pulled off back onto the road now Sam was settled in the passenger side, engine purring beneath them.

"This job... What are we looking at again?" He kept his gaze on the road. No, Sam couldn't help. Because that would mean he had to tell him about Amy, and then Sam wouldn't want to help. But he'd had to do it.

He was stuck in a vicious cycle and he didn't know how to break out of it.

[hunter-returns.livejournal.com]

How you underestimate your little brother, Dean. Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, his voice wooden. "Standard ghoul's nest We'll get there tonight. Bobby's got us the usual contact at the coroner's office, we can probably sniff out the nest the day after."

He let his hand drop, but left his eyes closed, letting the quiet sound of the motor start to lull him to sleep. He was so tired.

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

"Awesome." He flicked the music on, but left it at a suitable level for Sam to sleep. Sam didn't sleep enough any more.

...Not that Dean was exactly great at sleeping himself. But he hadn't been for years. And it was more important Sam slept.

So he drove quietly, letting the sound of the engine lull Sam to sleep and the music signal and end to the conversation.