Once a Freak, Always a Freak
Summary: Sam likes being normal, no headaches or visions. So, if he keeps his new headaches and fear of visions to himself, if he doesn't tell Dean, then he won't be a freak…right? Set in Season 3.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but boy I wished I did.
Once a Freak
Sam leaned is head heavily against the cold glass of the Impala window, his eyes closed. He was pretending to be asleep, his brother hadn't noticed. He wasn't sure how long he could keep the charade up. He didn't know why he did not want to tell his brother. But, just the thoughts of acknowledging a headache, made his chest grow tight with fear. What was his deal? It was just a headache, nothing major, nothing to worry about. He tried to shut out the radio as it vibrated harshly in his head. Every thump of the drum beat causing the pain to spike in behind his eyes. He inhaled a steadying breath. His slitted eyes darted over to his brother. Dean was in 'the zone', ACDC song totally taking over his body. His fingers thumped maniacally against the steering wheel. The dark sunglasses that covered his eyes bounced against his nose as he sang loudly to the words of 'Highway to Hell'.
Sam bit his lower lip to keep himself from going over the edge, from darting his hand up and jerkily turning off the music. Keep it under control. Get to the motel, take some aspirin. It's just a normal headache. His brother's voice echoed loudly over the music and reverberated in his ears. He scrunched his eyes shut, forehead planted against the cool window, his forced steady breathe making foggy patches on the glass. His fingers fumbled for the edge of his shirt, then clutched it tightly in a knot in his lap.
He hadn't had a headache since Cold Oak and they killed the Yellow Eyed Demon. He hadn't had a vision since then either, and he liked both of these facts just fine. He was scared to admit he had a headache, he might have a vision, and he did not want to be a "freak" again. He knew his brother, he knew how he thought, and he knew any sign of headaches or visions, would send him straight back into big brother mode. Although he liked being taken care of, he was a grown man, and the last couple months had been nice. Without the headaches and visions; Sam no longer felt needy, no longer a burden. Best of all, Dean no longer felt he needed to take care of him, to protect him. Dean treated him like an equal, like his brother, not like he was a twelve year old. Sam finally felt he was no longer a liability in this partnership. He would keep this headache to himself. He was sure it was nothing.
"Hey dude, you hungry? I'm starv'n." Dean's fingers whipped up to the radio and switched it off. His eyes darted beneath the sunglasses over to the still frame of his little brother. Hum, something don't see quite right here? Sam's head lolled from the window to his brother, a smile curved up on his pale face. Maybe he was coming down with something?
"I'm okay, but if you're hungry, we can stop." Sam mumbled barely audible to Dean's ears.
"You feel okay bro?" Dean's eyebrows arched up above the black frames of his sunglasses as he leered over at his little brother.
Sam shuffled in the seat, pushing his body up into a straight position away from the window. Get it together here dude. "I'm fine Dean. Let's eat."
"Okay dude." Dean's head turned back to the windshield, but his eyes stayed fixed momentarily, under the dark frames, on Sam. Something was off here.
Sam's fingers held tightly to the passenger door as he gazed up at the greasy spoon they had stopped at. Dean sure knew how to pick um. Something about the name "The Greasy Spoon Diner" made him feel nauseated, and he had not even gotten inside yet. He swayed slightly; his headache spiking a sharp pain right behind his eyes.
"You coming?" Dean yelled over his shoulder, and Sam pushed off the doorframe and steadied himself before he took steps to follow his brother.
He slid in across the booth from Dean, his fingers clutching for the sticky menu that rested against the salt shaker. The grease that permeated through the air around them was heavy, and it seemed to settle on their clothes, their hair; soaking into their pours. The fact this place echoed its name, or that it was a dump did not seem to register with his older brother at all.
"So what are you having?" Dean asked as he gazed over his own menu to his brother, fingers flipping up to push the sunglasses up on his head. Sam sure looked a little green here.
Sam knew if he did not eat, it would get his brother's suspicious nature up, so he knew he had to order food, and he had to force it down. He shrugged his shoulders up at his brother, darting the menu down quickly, and them putting it back across his face. Just the though of eating any of this was making him feel sick.
"Well, I'm having the giant burger with everything, and extra onions." Dean offered with a cocky grin as he tossed the menu to the table.
The pretty little waitress appeared at their table just as Dean's menu hit the Formica. He shifted slightly in the seat as he gazed up at her. She was cute, blonde and obviously single, no ring adorning that finger. Dean smiled at her with his best, "Hi, I'm Dean. Want to have sex look."
Sam dropped his menu to the table, just in time to see Dean's face as he gleamed at the waitress. Oh crap, here we go again.
The young waitress grinned widely back at Dean. "Well hello there, what can I get you?" her voice was sultry and it made Sam uncomfortable.
"I'll have the giant burger, no onions, fries, and a coke." Dean cooed in a low gravely tone.
Sam's eyes went wide. "What about your extra onions?"
Dean glared at his little brother and then looked innocently back up at the waitress. "No, no extra onions for me honey." He batted his baby blues at her and Sam thought he saw her actually swoon slightly. She stood several moments gazing intently at his brother.
"Excuse me." Sam intervened when it looked like he was not even at the table anymore. "I'll have a 7up, some fries." He didn't think his stomach would hold any food at all, but maybe the 7up would help the nauseous feeling that was going along with the headache he wasn't having.
"Oh," the young girl's eyes left Dean's face hesitantly. "Sure, sure thing." She nodded slightly at Dean, ignored Sam altogether and swayed slightly as she walked away from their table.
"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" Sam muttered as he brought the fingers on his left hand up to rest on one side of his forehead, unconsciously kneading the pressure point. "I thought we were going to get to Little Rock tonight?"
"I, little brother, am attempting to get laid, something you have obviously forgotten how to do." Dean's face lite up and a slight laugh flowed across his lips.
Sam rolled his eyes. He was not up to this debate tonight. All he wanted was a bed and a pillow to lay his aching head against. "Whatever."
The food was just as Sam expected a mass of grease and salt. He cringed at the sight of his french-fries, floating in puddles on the plate. Dean however, hunkered down on the fat, chewy burger like it was the best food he had ever eaten. He sat stoically watching the grease roll down his brother chin. The sight alone made the bile rise up in his throat. He quickly grasped the 7up and gulped down several mouthfuls, attempting to keep his stomach under control. He shoved the French fries around on his own plate, taking small nibbles in an attempt to look like he was eating something. He did not see his brother's eyes gazing from the burger to his plate and then quickly back to his own food. He's looking awfully pale over there. Maybe he's just tired.
Dean sat the burger down on his greasy plate, and tugged the napkin up across his lips. "Hey, let's find a room here. I might have a chance with what's her name." He tilted his head over toward the young waitress at the counter, eyebrows raising and lowering in an evil 'yes' motion.
Sam cringed. At this moment, his head was hurting so bad, he did not care where they stayed, or what Dean did, he just wanted to lie down. "Okay." Sam forced out as he fiddled with a French fry dangling in his fingers.
The Impala rolled to a stop in front of the dingy little motel not twenty minutes form the diner. Although Sam did not like the looks of the diner, he disliked the looks of this motel even more. What a rat hole. He's eyes scanned the parking lot blearily, and decided he would keep his mouth shut. He really needed to lie down.
"Here we go Sammy. Just like our 'hot' waitress Christi said, The Duck Drop Inn." Dean smiled and wicked at Sam as he turned off the car. "I'll get us a room."
"Great." Sam whispered. As soon as Dean was out of sight, and in the manager's office, Sam whisked out a bottle of Advil from the glove box and dry swallowed three tablets. Finally, Dean was not around. He eased his aching head back against the Impala's bench seat, closed his eyes, and hoped the pain pills would work quickly. He must have dozed off a second, because the next thing he knew, Dean was leaned into the passenger door, patting his hand against his shoulder.
"Hey you…I carried all the gear in, I ain't carrying your ass." A grin leered up on Dean's lips and he shuffled up and toward their motel room, "Number 8 here bro, right in front of you."
Sam blinked to clear his sleepy brain and then lifted his weighty head from the seat. That was a big mistake. His headache soared to new heights and he struggled to catch his breathe in the wave of pain the rolled over him. He stared ahead through the windshield to the open door of their motel room. At least Dean was inside and not watching his every move. He pulled himself up and leaned into the passenger door, white knuckles grasping the cold metal. Okay, steady, take a breath. Just get inside, to the bed. He cautiously thought about each footstep he was making as he watched the wavering doorway come closer and closer. It had been six months since he had a migraine; he had forgotten how they were. He probably was going to have to tell his brother. He couldn't function very well when he had this kind of headache. God, please don't let me have a vision. His hand grasped the doorway, just as his brother thudded bodily against him, then weaved around him and back toward the car.
"I'm going out Sam. Just talked to Christy, she's off work. Don't wait up dude." Dean's voice permeated through Sam's aching head and he lifted his face slowly, the pain causing Dean to blur in the distance.
"Huh…Okay, okay." Sam mumbled.
Dean eased back in the car. He gazed from the steering wheel across the dark to his brother, who seemed to be hovering at their doorway. He squint his eyes to see in the darkness, but Sam moved inside the door and it thudded closed behind him. He smiled to himself and pulled out of the parking lot. I am so getting lucky tonight.
This just came to me, and I had to get it started. I don't think it will be as long as some of my stories. It maybe a couple of chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing!