Hey again! I've had a lot of extra time on my hands, so I wrote another story.
Tag to 5x10 Abandon all Hope
Dean was an emotionless guy.
He had made it very clear, on numerous occasions, that his so called "chick-flick moments" were never to be had. Sam had tried many times to have caring-sharing times with his brother, but Dean would push him away.
Now, Dean sat on the steps to Bobby's house, cradling a beer bottle in his hands, pushing back all his emotions as he remembered their fight against Satan. Any minute now, he thought, Sam's gonna come out and try to talk to me.
He took another sip and slowly exhaled through his nose. After Cas had poofed them to Bobby's, they had said final good byes and burned the only memory they had together… The picture.
Over time, they grew distant from each other. Sam seemed to be fretting over something, but God only knows what that was. Bobby was drinking more and looking for a hunt.
Dean remained alone for as long as he could during the day. In his mind, he remembered his final moment with Jo, how they had kissed and tried to express love they had never portrayed for each other before. He remembered how sad Ellen had been when she realized that her daughter wouldn't make it, and it reminded him of himself when his Dad and Sam had died.
The bottle was now empty. He had a vague idea that he had drained it a little too quickly, but he didn't care anymore. If this was what it took to mask out the blinding pain, then so be it.
He heard the front door open and close slowly, as if the person coming out was hesitant to do so. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a groan. Here came Sam, trying to make him talk about his emotions.
There were slow, heavy footsteps, and Sam sat down next to Dean. He looked at the beer bottle, then shyly held out his hand, offering what little he could which, in this case, was another beer.
Dean peered at it for a second before placing his empty one down and slowly taking it. He popped the top off and took a nice long swig, not caring if he was going to get drunk from it.
Sam watched his brother with sad eyes, but he didn't try to say anything. He knew that, no matter how hard he tried, Dean would push him away and just bottle the emotions down deep inside, using the rising anger to hunt.
Dean waited for Sam to start talking. He waited for his brother to say something stupid like, "It'll be okay, Dean", or "It wasn't your fault." But, to his shock, Sam remained silent, just sitting with his brother, staring out into the junkyard.
They sat in silence for a while. With each passing minute, the tension eased out of Dean, but he waited for the snap, for Sam to start talking. He began to relax, starting to believe that maybe he wouldn't have to talk to Sam.
After a while, Sam stood up slowly. He swallowed thickly, placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, and whispered, "I understand how you feel." Then, he stepped in the house.
Dean took another swig and considered Sam's words. Then, it all hit him.
He finally understood how Sam had felt to lose the love of his life. It had broken him to watch Jess burn on the ceiling to their apartment, and it had torn him in half when he had shot Madison.
Now, Jo was dead, and the pain he felt inside was almost the same as to what Sam had felt with most of his girlfriends. He was miserable, broken, and he didn't know what to do next.
But Sam was there. Sam understood, this time, that he didn't want to talk, and he was respecting that.
He strolled inside again. Sam was sitting on the couch, reading a book, and Bobby was nowhere to be found. He cleared his throat, and Sam looked up. "Thanks, Sammy," he said earnestly.
Sam offered a small smile and nodded. "Anytime, bro."
Hope you liked! Maybe leave a review please...? Thanks :)