Deana: Hey guys. Here's a little old one-shot I wrote just for you! Ok, I lie, I wrote it for me, but you get to read it. Please review, they mean lots to me.
Disclaimer: Don't own it...happy now?
To Brother by ShadowMayne.
Dean stared at the words on the paper as though they where spitting on his car. He shouldn't have to do this. It wasn't like he ran out of the door, he didn't abandon the family.
The second that thought crossed his mind he mentally hit himself. Sam was following his dreams, not living in a world he resents anymore. No matter how much it hurt Dean, he wanted, needed Sam to be happy.
I hope your ok at Stanford, I bet there's hundred of hot chicks…though I bet you've already hooked up with someone from you're study group.
I want you to know I'm proud of you, I didn't really get a chance to talk to you about that last time we saw each other. We're cool though now right?
Dean could hardly believe what he was writing, he wanted to cry for Sammy to come back, wanted someone other than the drunken John Winchester for company.
He wanted to reach out for Sam and tell him how proud he was, how much he missed him, how much it broke his heart to see his brother storm through the door.
It had been raining that night. Dean wasn't home; he had been out doing the standard dig up and torch corpse job. Sam and John were arguing over the acceptance letter into College.
"If you walk out that door you can never come back!" John had yelled as Sam grabbed his things and stuffed them in his bag.
"I don't want to come back here!" Sam had shouted back, fury rippling from every word.
Dean had come home at that point, lingering in the doorway, afraid to say something that could lead to Sam leaving.
"Isn't there something here worth staying for?" he asked, his smile slipping into a cocky one, trying to mask his horror.
Sam turned and look at Dean with anger and betrayal, a look Dean would never forget. "There is nothing here. Nothing I want. Nothing I care about."
Dean's smirk had been wiped clean off his face here, unshed tears sparkled in his eyes and John and Sam went back to arguing.
Sam didn't even think Dean was worth staying for? Now when he looked back, Dean realised this was probably true. Dean had always taken jokes too far. He had been the reason Sam had been hurt so many times. He hated himself for it.
Every time a spirit got him he wondered if it was karma, making up for what he did to Sam.
Sam and John exchanged a few final and angry insults before Sam threw his bag over his shoulder and stalked out of the room.
Dean had watched in a trance as his little brother had stalked out, not even looking at him.
Dean hadn't blamed Sam for leaving, Dean had failed his little brother and he knew that was a burden he'd have to carry until the end of time.
As the door slammed Dean had come to his sense and run onto the street after Sam, only to be held back by his father, just like Dean himself had held Sam back from his life before that night.
Dean had never been so glad it was raining, because then, when Sam did finally turn around, all he saw was the desperate face of his elder brother, not his crying brother.
It's been a while hasn't it? Dad and I are still looking for you-know-what. He drinks more now, a lot more. I think he misses you…not that he'd ever admit to it.
We hunt more know, haven't stayed anywhere long.
I won't recommend writing back as I have no idea where we'll be, we're moving a lot, seeing the nicest places!
As he wrote more Dean realised he would never send this to Sam, there was nothing to say anymore. He had called once, but Sam had hung up on him.
Dean knew he deserved it, but he was hurt beyond words. He had sat there, staring at the phone, listening to the beeping of the receiver though never really hearing it.
He stayed like that until a sober John came in and pulled it gently from his hands. The day Sam left John turned to Dean and said, "Why did you let him leave!"
And as Dean's thoughts turned to his father he found himself writing underneath Sam's half done letter.
Insult me, leave me, but don't blame me, I tried, I loved and I failed, but I had no help…maybe u should have been there for me…
He stared at the words and let his tears fall, smudging parts of the writing. He sighed, throwing the paper in his bag, never planning on throwing it away, never planning on seeing it again.
Sam rummaged through Dean's bag. It had been a few months since Dean had turned up on his door step, since Jess died and he came back to hunting.
His fingers brushed against a crumpled piece of paper, Dean's writing scribbled all over, the ink running from tear marks.
He read the words and he felt emotions pouring off the paper, as though Dean had written his heart into the paper.
He turned around as Dean came out of the bathroom; he saw what Sam held, no emotion showing.
"Dean?" Sam asked, Dean's head bowed slightly, guilt pouring off him. Sam dropped the paper and the guilt, desperation and depression floated away with it, only to be replaced with his own.
Dean didn't look up as Sam came closer, gently wrapping his arms around Dean.
Sam expected Dean to pull away, but instead they embraced as brothers, and finally, they understood each other.
But as Sam pulled back Dean felt a stab of horror, now they would have to talk.
Sam watched as Dean talked, and then his older brother smiled, the way he used to, before hunting.
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Ok guys please review; it will mean a lot…please? Keep Smilin' :) Deana.