Title: Missing you
Author: Barbed_Edge
Rating: light R, language, Some sexual content
WARNINGS: Wincest.
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Summary: Dean misses Sam...
AN: My first attempt at a songfic...***
{I've been traveling but I don't know where
I've been missing you but you just don't care
And I've been wandering, I've seen Greece and Rome
Lost in the wilderness, so far from home
Yeah, yeah}
Dean watches Sam sleep, the way his hair falls in his face, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Everything about Sam makes him smile, mostly to himself, but he does smile. Dean realizes he is smiling even now, smiling even though tears blur his eyes. Even though he still misses Sam, yet Sam is right there a few feet away. He wonders if Sam realizes the little idiosyncrasy that Dean has about Sam. The way his smile differs just for Sam, the way he laughs in those almost ordinary moments in the car.
Dean brushes a stray tear off his face, his smile cracking until it fades, he doesn't like this new Sam. The Sam with to much emotional trauma, to much fear. Dean realized way back when that Sam was different now, he wonders if Sam realizes the changes. Dean wonders if Sam really knew how much Dean missed Sam back then, if he realizes how much he misses him even now.
{I've been to Africa, looking for my soul
And I feel like an actor looking for a role
I've been in Arabia, I've seen a million stars
Been sipping champagne on the boulevards - yes}
Dean sips his coffee, wincing at the bitter taste. Wonders who the hell made the awful coffee, his eyes wander over the motel room, coming to rest on Sam; whose circling points of interest in the latest news paper. Dean smiles and watches Sam chew on the end of his pen, watches when Sam brushes the to long hair out of his face, and circles something else. Laughing softly to himself at how cute Sam looks when he's concentrating on something. Sam looks up, but Dean is already focused on another point in the room,
"Dean?" Sam questions his voice to old for his actual age, everything about Sam really has changed. Dean looks up and arches and eyebrow, taking another sip of coffee before answering.
"Yeah Sammy? What did ya find?" Dean fiddles with his necklace, his attention solely on his brother.
"I think we should check out these deaths in Colorado. They seem to be connected with something in the town." Sam slides the paper over letting Dean look over his shoulder.
"Ok, Colorado it is then." Dean inhales sharply Sam's scent filling his nose, setting his coffee on the table he reaches over Sam's shoulder to grab the paper. Smiling brightly when Sam turns his head and looks at him, He pats Sam's head and laughs when Sam bats at his hand. Dean smirks and sits down well out of range of Sam's hands.
"Brat."
"Dickwad."
{I'm so sick and tired
Trying to turn the tide, yeah
So I'll say my goodbye
Laugh, laugh
I nearly died}
Twelve hours later, Dean parks the car in another shitty motel parking lot. His eyes soften when he sees Sam passed out in the passenger seat, his mouth pulled up in a sleepy smile. Dean reaches over and ruffs his hair, trying to wake him up slowly. Dean smiles broadens when Sam yawns and looks around, a cute look of confusion on his still boyish face.
"Where are we?" Sam asks his voice still filled with sleep, rubbing at his eyes he shields them from the fluorescent glow of the motels sign.
"Somewhere just outside of that town in Colorado." Dean answers his voice filling with emotion he tries so hard to hide.
"Oh."
"Yeah." Dean finishes the statement watching Sam's smirk turn into a goofy smile, that makes Dean miss him so much more. 'I miss you Sam.' is what Dean wishes he could say when Sam open's the Impala's door, even though Sam would have no idea what the hell he was talking about, he still wishes he could say it. He runs that conversation over in his mind, and yet, no matter how many times he replays it, it never end the way he wants it to.
"You coming, or is the car your bed tonight Dean." Sam smirks and hightails it to the front office, holding the door open for Dean.
"I never laughed so hard in my life." Sam recounts some far off memory over the top of the long neck in his hand.
"Yeah, I remember that, I also remember how much of a brat you were." Dean cracks open another miller light and lounges on his bed. Toeing his shoes off he looks over at Sam, who is peeling the label of his beer bottle. "Remember when you got lost in the woods when me and dad told you to stay in the car?"
"Yeah, I was so scared, but you found me cornered by the werewolf and I wasn't so scared anymore." Sam sighs and looks up at Dean, their eyes locking for a minute before Dean looks away; And Sam can swear he saw tears in his big brothers eyes. "Hey, Dean, I don't think I ever told you thank you for rescuing my little ass."
"You weren't that little, Sammy, you just weren't that good at taking orders." Dean points out his voice cracking when it shouldn't.
"Yeah, I guess you're right, but still thanks Dean." Sam eyes light up and he smiles like a dork at his brother.
"Whatever, Sam, it's not like I had a choice." Dean grumbles not to comfortable with the turn in conversations. "In other news, how's the background information on this so called case coming." 'I. Miss. You.' Dean's mind screams in vain.
{I've been down to India, but it froze my bones
I'm living for the city, but I'm all alone
I've been traveling, but I don't know where
I've been wandering, but I just don't care.}
Dean is a little more than upset, he's pissed. 'Damn it, Sam, where are you.' Dean traipses through the thick underbrush of the forest. Turns out it was another Windego they were after, 'What is it with Colorado and these things.' Dean stops and listens the sound of branches breaking in the distance makes him pick up the pace. "Sam!" Dean yells hoping to hear Sam yelling for him back. When he doesn't Dean tries not to give up hope, tries to stop his mind from forming vivid images of Sam's lifeless form.
Dean found Sam, he always finds him. This time Sam's doesn't look all to relieved to see him, just tells him to hurry up. Dean lets Sam rest on his shoulder, and pulls them both out off the cave's mouth, before turning around to go get the son of a bitch that hurt Sam.
"Dean!" Sam yells trying to stop his brother, trying to see if his mind wasn't playing tricks and Dean was really crying. 'Why are you crying Dean?' Sam leans heavily on the rock Dean sat him on, his eyes getting heavy. The wound on his stomach still pumping out blood, Sam presses Dean's shirt to it trying to stop the bleeding. Sam watches the world fade to black before finally closing his eyes.
"Sam come on, Sammy, wake the fuck up, man. Don't do this to me." Dean pleads with the Gods that Sam's still in the land of the living. Dean checks his pulse and sighs when it beats steady under his finger tips. Almost smiles when Sam bats at his hand, wincing when the stitches in his stomach pull tight.
"Shit, these hurt like a bitch, Dean I'm ok." Sam opens one eye and looks at Dean, who's sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I know, I'm so--." Dean stops and takes a deep breath, 'Come on, you can say it,' but he doesn't just grips Sam's hand tighter and brushes blood crusted hair off Sam's forehead. "Yeah, there going to hurt for a while Sam."
"Dean? I'm sorry I shouldn't have run off like that. If it wasn't for me being an ass I wouldn't have fucked this up." Sam whines taking another painful breath, before squeezing Dean's hand and passing out.
{I hate to be denied
How you hurt my pride
I feel pushed aside
But laugh, laugh, laugh
I nearly died
Been traveling far and wide
Wondering who's going to be my guide}
Dean bites his lip when Sam winces just trying to sit up in bed the next morning, almost starts crying when Sam cries out. "Sam what?"
"I just need to get up and walk, Dean, I feel useless just laying here." Sam takes in a sharp breath, his hand going to the fifty stitches lining his stomach from hip to middle. Three parallel lines, three long gashes from three long claws, "Can you get me a beer Dean?" Sam asks finally tired of trying to move, he relaxes against the headboard.
"Yeah, sure thing, Sam, just don't over do it." Dean pads across the room to the cooler, opening the top he grabs four. Setting them down on the overnight stand he crack to open and passes one to Sam.
"Do I ever over do it, Dean?" Sam asks amusement clear in his voice, he reaches up and brushes hair out of his face. He looks over at Dean, their eyes locking.
Dean smiles and looks away, Sam's eyes look so dead, so devoid of youthful light. That night Dean cries himself to sleep, his eyes puffy and red in the morning. He watches Sam move like a car crash patient, slow and jerky movements. Looking where he's going, looking at everything different. Dean cries again when Sam takes a bath instead of a shower, his salty tears staining the dirty pillow. His hands shake when he re-stitches Sam's stomach, fixing a couple pulled stitches.
"How long are we going to stay here, Dean? It's been two day's since and I need, we need to leave." Sam points out the obvious and Dean glares at him the whole time he packs up the stuff and loads up the car.
"Ok where to Sam?" Dean asks somewhere down the road, on some nameless highway, heading in no real direction.
"St. Louis again." Sam whispers trying to ignore the wince the answer get from Dean.
"St. Louis it is then, what are we looking for this time?" Dean asks his voice filled with worry.
"Not another skin walker, but nothing easy either, its sounds like a hellhound. I really don't want to do this either you know." Sam looks over at Dean, his hand rubbing at the stitches on his stomach.
"Lets go someplace warmer, like Florida for a couple, Sam, your still not healed. I won't ask you to do this." Dean sighs and pushes the emotions back behind the permanent walls around his soul.
"Oh, come on, Dean I'm not made of glass here. I wouldn't be the first time."
"No, Sam, I'll do this by myself if I have to, I just never mind." Dean finishes and turns the radio back up, putting on his sunglasses and wishing it was dark so Sam couldn't see the tears falling down his cheeks.
"Never mind, I'm going to take a nap then, wake me up when we get there."
{Living in a fantasy but it's way too far
But this kind of loneliness is way too hard
I've been wandering, feeling all alone
I lost my direction and I lost my home...Well}
Dean waits until Sam is asleep, kissing his brothers forehead. Grabbing his jacket, his keys and his bag. He stands there not caring about the tear, the hole this is going to tear in his soul. Pulling open the door he leaves the white note on the table, and leaves. Starting the car Dean pauses, 'Is this what I really want?' he asks himself once more before pulling out onto another nameless highway.
Its seven in the morning before he stops at a rest stop to stretch his legs. Looking around the place he realizes he misses Sam. Misses him more than anyone ever, but he can't go back just yet can't look at those dead eyes for another day. Looking up at the rising sun, he makes a promise. "I'll be back, Sam, just let me sort things out, let me find some answers." Dean uses the bathroom and climbs back in, turning the radio back up.
***
Sam sits up, his eyes glancing around the room. "Dean!" Sam realizes Dean isn't there and notices the note. Opening the envelope carefully he reads it....
Hey Sammy, I love you...I'll be back, just I don't know when. There some cash in here, not to much but enough... I miss you... love Dean....
Sam almost crumples the note up, tears running down his face, he grabs his jacket. 'I trust you Dean.' is all Sam thinks when he wanders into town and gets on then bus back to California, back to what he considered home for awhile.
***
{I'm so sick and tired
Now I'm on the side
Feeling so despised
When you laugh, laugh
I almost died
(Been traveling far and wide
Wondering who's going to be my guide)
I hurt my pride, hurt my pride, hurt my pride (Been traveling far and wide)
Been traveling, yeah}
The phone rings and Sam ignores it, to tired to care who I might be. The knock at the door however he can't ignore, "Who ever it is go away." Sam yells knowing they can't hear him. Three years ago, he would have jumped up, but now it's probably just some friends from college. The knocking persists and Sam finally gets up to answer the door.
Dean is standing there a six pack in hand, his mind clear, he wonders if he's at the right room. The sound of the lock disengaging almost makes him think twice. 'three years of pent up anger at me.' Dean swallows hard, his eyes widening when Sam opens the door.
"Dean?" Sam asks surprise filling his voice, even more conscious that he's standing there in his boxers. The scar on his stomach a raised white line. "Why? How? When?" Sam questions tears pooling in his bright eyes.
"I said I would Sam. I don't lie even you know that, ok, so I do but never to you." Dean pushes past Sam, eyeing the big apartment. "Looks like you've been up to it Sam."
"Dean!" Sam shuts the door.
"Sam!" Dean mimics but yelp when Sam hugs him tight, his tears soaking Dean's hair.
"I missed you." Sam gasps out through tears. "I didn't think you would, but I never gave up hope."
Dean nods and pulls away a sweet smile on his face, "Yeah, well you know me the traveling man." Dean reclines on the massive couch and pops open a beer. "So what has my, Sammy, been up to?"
"School, a job. Nothing much, and you?"
"Hunting, tons of stories and tons of new scars." Dean laughs when Sam starts playing mother.
"Your ok though right? I mean nothing to serious right?"
"Yeah Sam I almost died you know, but the thought of never seeing you again made me think twice about it." Dean laughs when Sam rolls his eyes and leans against him.
"I missed you."
"You already said that Sam."
"I know, but." And Sam did something that surprised Dean, Sam's lips press against his. "I love you."
Dean laughs and pulls Sam back kissing him softly, that night Sam watches Dean sleep. A sedated smile on his face, Dean's words echoing in his mind after they made love. "Sam, I've been traveling, but I found my home and my guide." then promptly fell asleep. Sam closes his eyes and buries his head in the crook of Dean's shoulder, falling asleep curled around the one constant in his life.
(Been traveling far and wide
Wondering who's going to be my guide)
(Been traveling far and wide)***
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