Prompt: 131- work
Character/Pairing: Vampire!Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, mentions of Bobby Singer.
Word Count: 681
Warnings: AU, wincest if you squint.
Summary: An impatient brother finally gets what he wants after a few endless days.
Sam was gone for three days.
Three long days that Dean spent watching the clock on Bobby's wall as the hands ticked too damn slow.
They tried looking for Sam that first day, with Dean more frantic because he knew about Sam's vampirism and nowhere near ready to tell Bobby about it. After all, he wasn't sure how the older man would react to it and this was Sam. He wouldn't hurt anyone. Dean knew he just wouldn't.
On that third day that Sam was gone, Bobby got fed up with Dean sulking and kicked him outside almost literally, telling him to 'get to work on that piece of work in the garage' – the wrecked '67 Impala. Frankly, Dean forgot about her amidst his worrying over his little brother and he jumped right into it. Mainly in hope that it would take his mind off things for a while.
A whole day slipped by and day turned into night right in front of Dean's eyes. He got so immersed in working on the car that he didn't bother looking at a clock, or even eating really. The hunter went without in worse conditions though, so it didn't bother him very much. But he got his desired result – forgetting his problems. It was only for a short period though, because the moment things were pitch black and he decided to go back inside to sleep, it all hit him again.
Especially when he saw a tall shadow in the salvage yard that looked so much like Sam.
Dean swallowed a forming lump in his throat, doing a double take as his eyes stopped on the shadow. It wasn't close enough to touch, but damn it, it was close! He took a few steps towards it and realized he wasn't seeing things. "Sammy?"
The shadow moved, rushing towards him and he was on his guard for a split second until he saw their face. It was Sam, dried blood and dirt caked on his face with what looked to be tears moving down his cheeks. Dean pulled him into a hug and felt Sam's hands grab at his dirty work shirt, clawing almost. Silent sobs were the only sounds Dean heard as he quietly shushed Sam while trying to pry him off.
"Hey, Sam, shhh. It's okay. Calm down." He sighed once and furrowed his brow in concern. "What happened? Where were you?"
Sam shook his head, finally letting go of Dean and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, which looked just as dirty as his face. "I tried Dean," he said through a cracked voice, "I tried so fucking hard. I'm sorry." Tears started again as Sam started apologizing, breaking down to the point where his knees gave out and the young man fell to his knees.
Dropping aside of him, Dean wasn't getting it. He didn't understand what Sam was apologizing for at all. But once he got a better look of him he understood.
The front of Sam's once grey t-shirt was stained a dark color. Red, Dean assumed, which only meant blood. The dirt he couldn't find a way to explain, but things pieced together. He just nodded and said, "It's alright. We'll deal with this, okay? We won't tell Bobby. Just you and me, Sammy."
A hesitant nod came from Sam as he started to calm down. Once fully calm, he looked at Dean with that familiar puppy dog look and said, "I salted and burned the body. Didn't know what else to do." His voice cracked again and Dean slung an arm over his brother's shoulders in a half hug. "But I couldn't help it."
"Stop explaining. I know. We'll deal with this," he told Sam in a stern tone. "But we gotta get you cleaned up first, so just go with my story when you see Bobby." A nod later and the two were getting to their feet and started towards Bobby's house. Dean only hoped he could give a good enough explanation so that the man didn't have to hear the truth.