Saturday, April 9, 2011

Can't Sleep

Title: Can’t Sleep
Rating: PG-13
Author: Reportergirl13
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 772
Warnings: Spoilers through season 5
Prompt Words: Dark & Soft
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Eric Kipke *sigh* but if I did own them I would have taken better care of Jo and Ellen.
Authors Note: All three drabbles were inspired by the song “If You Only Knew” by Shinedown

It's 4:03 and I can't sleep
Without you next to me I
Toss and turn like the sea
If I drown tonight, bring me
Back to life
Breathe your breath in me
The only thing that I still believe
In is you, if you only knew

Dean tossed and turned in the lumpy motel room bed. He shifted, lifted his body slightly and hit the pillow a few times before plopping back down on the bed and closing his eyes. A minute or so later his eyes slid back open and he let out a frustrated sigh.

It had been less than a week since he and Sam went their separate ways. Less than a week since he’d been able to get a good night’s rest. He kept replaying their last conversation in his head.

Sam shook his head and watched Dean with a look of pain on his face.

“I know you don’t trust me. It’s just… now I realize something. I don’t trust me, either. From the minute I saw that blood, the only thought in my head… and, and I tell myself it’s for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it feels true, you know? But I think, underneath, I just miss the feeling.”

Dean’s brows furrowed and he sucked in a deep breath. Sam rushed on.

“I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am. The thing is, the problem’s not the demon blood, not really. I mean, what I did, I can’t blame the blood, or Ruby, or… anything. The problem’s me. How far I’ll go…there’s something in me that… scares the hell out of me, Dean and in the last couple days, I caught another glimpse of it…”

Dean clenched his jaw. There was something in Sam that scared the hell of him too, not that he'd ever admit it, but the Sam standing before him wasn’t the same Sam from two years ago. He raised an eyebrow.

“So, what are you sayin’?”

Sam hesitated for a second before speaking.

“I’m in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back, ‘cause I’m dangerous. Maybe it’s best we just…go our separate ways.”

Dean let out another heavy sigh. Less than a week ago, in that moment, Sam broke something in him that he wasn’t sure could be fixed. When Sam told him that they should go their separate ways Dean felt something inside him implode.

So Dean did what he always did when things got to emotional. He closed up and answered Sam with an “I think you’re right” and “Fact is I spend more time worrying about you than doing the job. I can't afford that right now.” He knew he hurt Sam when he said that.

He knew his brother wanted him to fight for him, but he was tired of fighting. He’d been on the road with Sam for five years now…everything he’d done up until this point had been for Sam. Protecting him, selling his soul for him, going to hell for him.

The Angel’s brought him back to avert the apocalypse or start it, who knows, but Dean was here for Sam and no other reason. And yet, nothing he did, none of the sacrifices he made seemed to be good enough. He failed his father, he failed himself, but most importantly he failed Sam.

He promised to protect him, love him, and make sure that he didn’t go dark side, but he had and nothing’s been right since Dean got back. Dean sat up and glanced at the empty full bed next to him. His mood was dark and as pissed as he was with Sam, he missed him.

He missed having someone there who knew him; he missed waking up to Sam’s sleeping face. When Sam slept his innocence showed. His face was soft and all hardness was gone from it. He was Sammy again. Intelligent, funny, naïve, and guiltless.

Dean ran a hand over his face. He needed Sam. He wasn’t sure how long he’d last without him. He did trust Sam…maybe his faith in him was a little shaky, but Sam loves him. He knows that and right now that’s all that mattered.

Dean bent down, reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out his cell phone. He glanced at the time, 4:03, and hit two on his speed dial list. The phone rang and he waited with tense shoulders. There was a click on the other end as the call was answered.

Dean could hear Sam breathing over the phone and he swallowed hard and scratched the back of his neck as he spoke.

“Sammy…you’re wrong…we need to stick together…I…I need us to stick together…”

Sam still hadn’t said anything and Dean grew anxious. Finally he heard a deep sigh as Sam’s voice flowed over the line.

“What took you so long?”

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