A Guy Is Not Alright
He couldn't talk about this to Sam. Couldn't, and, wouldn't. Some things were hard to explain; either too private or too precious to share with anyone. Not everything could be put into words, or ventured. Sometimes it was just a feeling, a small flicker of something of which meaning was never supposed to be pondered, and much less, spoken of. So even if it hurt, even if it meant suffering alone, he would do it. Some things you had to do on your own and it didn't really matter if you wanted to or not.
Meeting Lisa again…and getting to know her son - his son too maybe, Dean still wasn't sure - had caused pretty much a nuclear explosion inside of him. Feelings of instant terror mixed with joy, and later, pride had him wavering on the brink between his fucked-up, but all-he'd-ever-known life with his brother and this new, could-be-perfect life with Lisa and Ben. It wasn't a choice to make, not really, because even if he was wavering he'd always choose Sam. But, he was wavering nonetheless and it didn't happen very often.
Lisa's dark eyes were on him, grateful, happy and hopeful. It didn't really matter if what she was saying was only because he'd saved her son (his son too?) because she asked and it was all that mattered.
"Look, if you want to stick around for a while…you're welcome to stay."
That line took his breath away and there was a moment of silence, appropriate or not, where he tasted her words, relished in their meaning. I want you to stay. You're welcome into this family.
He breathed in softly through his nose, heart breaking a little, closed his eyes…
The words sounded hollow. Like someone else had uttered them – for, surely, it couldn't have been him... But her eyes dropped to the floor as if on cue and the dull ache in his heart reminded him that it was real. It was all too real. He couldn't have this life…didn't deserve this life.
For, he would soon be gone, and his riddance would already destroy someone. The quieter he could go, the better…The less people would get hurt.
"I got a lot of work to do."
And he had.
"…and it's not my life…"
But he wished it was.
She gave a small smile. A smile he could barely return. He shot a quick glance at Ben, allowing himself that short moment to feed that deep desire for something more. For things that were out of reach. And then…
…and then he turned his back, literally and figuratively, on the home and the family that weren't his, pausing slightly at the door, before walking out and back to the ones that were…
Sam was sound asleep, leant back in the passenger seat of the Impala, head tilted backwards in an awkward angle. The snores were soft, and so 'Sam' and Dean chuckled softly. Ignoring the house that towered behind him, Dean made his way to the car and slipped into the driver's seat next to his brother.
The engine roared to life with a flick of his wrist, and the sound of rock music broke through the silence. Dean turned it off quickly, eyes shooting to his brother. Sam stirred but didn't wake and Dean let out a breath of relief. Then his eyes caught an open book lying in his brother's lap and he reached for it.
Demon dispelling ritual
Dean didn't have to read more to know what it was. He closed the book slowly, deliberately, eyes shifting to his sleeping brother. He smiled sadly.
"Sorry, Sammy, ain't gonna happen."
He rolled down the window and chucked the book into the bushes by Lisa's house, smiling faintly at the sound of it hitting ground. Then, without him realizing it, his hand moved and found Sam's cheek - a light touch, one soft stroke, before he came to his senses and jerked it away. Blushing a little at the sudden, and most definitely unintentional, show of affection, Dean backed out onto the road and stepped on the gas.
Not everything could be put into words.
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A/N: The final chapter of "Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it doesn't" is coming soon.