|Caught In A Fold
Author: jessmerrick PM
Dean has always looked after his brother, protected him from the demons that haunt him so. But now Sam faces danger from a very different kind of demon...can Dean help him before it's too late?Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Drama/Angst - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,896 - Reviews: 25 - Favs: 4 - Follows: 17 - Updated: 04-02-06 - Published: 03-20-06 - id: 2853320
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
In A Fold
By JessMerrick aka Sami
Author's Notes: I really write Sam and Dean horribly, but especially Dean. This is just something that I really wanted to do with these characters. The title comes from a song by Mostly Autumn...look out for random quotes. Please feedback, but don't flame - as I said, I know I don't write these guys all too well.
About the way that I've been feeling
I'm caught in a fold
As the moon holds the sea"
Sam Winchester sighed as he stared out of the window, watching the scenery as it passed them by. He was doing his best to block out the background noise - as accustomed to it as he had become, Black Sabbath was a little too heavy to handle at 5am - but it wasn't proving to be all that easy today. Not when Dean was singing at maximum volume, probably just to annoy his little brother, as he quite often seemed to like to do. He turned so that he was facing ahead, after a moment risking a glance over at the driver. "Dean, it's 5am. Do you have to play that quite so loud?" he asked, slightly snappily. He tended to be grumpy when one of his few nights of decent nightmare-free sleep was interrupted. He didn't get why they'd had to leave so early anyway. "You're definitely no Ozzy Osbourne."
"Yes I do," Dean replied simply, his mind somewhere completely different. He was paying some attention to the road, but the rest was channelled in to something else. Something that Sam had no idea about. "Unless you'd prefer Metallica?" He knew that given the choice, Sam would choose Sabbath any day. He said that Metallica were awful, that the singer couldn't sing and their music was just boring and exactly the same. They'd had oh so many arguments about it, but in the end, one or both of them always gave in and they never reached a final verdict.
"Never mind," the younger boy grumbled, sighing. He wondered where they were going, Dean hadn't told him anything. The night before he had driven Sam so insane that he'd turned in at a very unholy hour of 10pm, and then he'd woken him up at 4:20 in the morning, bags packed, telling him to get showered and dressed and that they were moving out. Now he thought about it, Dean was most definitely up to something. He had planned this, driven him to bed early on purpose.
Dean suddenly made a turn, apparently either he knew these roads from the time when he and Sam had been apart, or he was just making up the route as they went along. Two minutes later, he was pulling in to a rest stop with a diner to the side of the garage. It didn't look anything special, but it didn't look completely terrible either. Not half as grotty as some of the places that they had found themselves in the past. Sam looked at Dean and frowned. "You got me up at 4:20am to go for breakfast?" he asked, hoping for some sort of explanation if he started asking questions again.
"Of course not," Dean replied, giving him a look that said 'you're really making me think you're the don't eat the paste kind of special.' Of course he hadn't gotten them up at that insane hour of the morning to go for breakfast. That would just be rather crazy, wouldn't it? No, he had his reasons. They just weren't ones that he felt like sharing at this very moment. If he did, he knew that there would be big trouble. And frankly he couldn't deal with his brother's whining for the next three and a half hours.
Getting out of the car, he waited for his brother to get out. The boy didn't budge. "Come on Sammy, what are you, five?" he sighed, rolling his eyes. He could see he was going to have to start another fight here. They'd had way too many lately and he was really getting sick and tired of it. Something was wrong with Sam and every time that he actually tried to get even slightly chick flickish with him, the boy just got mad or shrugged it off and ignored him. He'd had enough.
"No, I'm twenty-two and I'm not hungry," Sam replied, defeatedly. He sounded so lost, so...broken. Just down, like he was never going to get back up. Dean often worried that he was too far gone, but today he was going to make sure that his brother's life was saved. He refused to lose the only good thing he had. He loved Sam too much to leave him alone. The boy was killing himself, neglecting himself. And he hated it. He really did.
"Damn it Sam don't make me drag your ass inside like some little kid who's having a tantrum. God knows I will but I sure as hell don't want to," Dean said, in a very firm tone that showed he meant business. This was Sam's last chance before he carried out his plan. He had to get the kid's life back on track, whether Sam liked it or not. He was just sick of seeing his baby brother like this. He'd been through so much, he knew that it had really started to take it's toll. It could go either way from here, he could get better - if he tried - or he could just get worse and give up on life. "Get out of the car, Sam."
Sam sighed, very loudly, and eventually got out of the car, slamming the door as he did so. "Okay, okay," he said, just giving up. He was even giving up on fighting now, what was the point? Dean was always so set on having his own way that it was just futile to try and challenge him. He followed his older brother in to the diner and sat down at a booth in the corner. He really wished that Dean would tell him what the hell was going on, he was having really bad feelings. He almost wished that he'd had a stupid nightmare to tell him what to expect.
Dean handed him a menu and then began to scan his own, glancing over the top of it at Sam. Sighing very softly, his eyes flicked back to the breakfast offerings and he made his choice. He folded the menu back up and put it to the side, watching his brother. He looked so exhausted, pale, sickly. He was looking worse every day and it scared him more than he would ever be able to admit. Dean had always taken care of Sam, or always tried his best to. He was so scared of losing him. He didn't know what he would do if he did. He just couldn't lose him, that was unacceptable. "Pancakes and coffee. What'll it be?" he asked Sam, expecting him to have made his mind up by now. Please, please, he thought to himself.
"Orange juice," Sam replied, flatly, closing up his own menu. He looked at Dean, catching the look that he was giving him. He simply shrugged, not bothering to respond. The expression on his face told Dean all that he needed to know. If he said anything, Sam was just going to ignore it or he was going to walk out of the diner and wait in the car. He was in a foul mood, but then that was what depression did to you, wasn't it? It made you sick.
Dean didn't bother to argue, he'd let Samuel have his way this time. It was the last time that he was going to sit back though. He was going to do something...he was now more sure than ever.
Things had got to change.