Party like a rockstar... Kick a little ass. Writing is hard : comments.
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(no subject)
hmm. Can I get Sam/Dean, #27?
(no subject)
I don't so Sam/Dean complete AU, so rather than that this is future!fic. Hope that's okay, honey!
Sam takes a seat on the left hand side at the back. It's his usual spot and he scans the crowd like he usually does, nods and smiles at Carrie and Tim and Dave. He's still wearing a slight, vacant smile when his head turns ninety degrees but it drops in a flash when he sees the guy sitting at the other end of his row. His stomach sinks and he can't find his next breath, because no. No, it can't be what it looks like.
Not that Sam doesn't think his big brother should absolutely be here, because if anybody needs group therapy wrapped up in donuts and coffee it's Dean, but they parted ways years ago, Sam with a broken heart and Dean with a promise that he was better off without him. Sam looks away like the right side of the room is on fire.
Dean's seen him, Sam's sure he has because he may be out of the game but he's still got his instincts and as hard as he fights not to look over at Dean for the next hour, focus all his attention on Kelly and the story he shares and the next five, six, seven people after that, Sam can feel eyes on him.
Sam doesn't share that day, passes when it's his turn.
To Sam's surprise, Dean smiles and nods his thanks and gets right up in front of twenty seven complete strangers, and he does share.
It's vague, what he says. Talks about loss and living with it every day and how he tries to keep going. His words are too precise, though, too raw and new and he can't be here for the same reason Sam is. He isn't here because he lost his father and his brother and his girlfriend and so many friends, so much like family.
It's something else, something Sam doesn't know. Dean is something Sam doesn't know, not anymore.
And Sam's angry. The reason they left each other was to leave all that hurting and loss behind but Dean clearly didn't. He's still losing people, he's still hurting and if that's the case then why isn't Sam there, why can't they lose people together?
He's still sitting in his seat at the end of the session, staring forward where Elias used to be, still hearing echos of how he planted a tree in honour of his wife. People are standing up around him, making their way to the refreshment table and Sam's about to join them, he is. He's about to join them and find Dean and punch him in the face but then there's a hand on his shoulder, strong and forceful and Sam has to struggle so much to stand up that it's not worth it.
Not much is, these days.
(no subject)
He gets angry all over again.
“It wasn't... anything supernatural. Hit by a garbage truck on her way home from school.”
“You got married?” Sam asks. It sounds more bitter than he'd like it to.
Dean cocks his head and narrows his eyes a little.
“No.”
Sam doesn't say anything to that, just sits quietly for several long seconds before he asks, “What are you doing here?”
Dean sighs and finally lets his hand drop from Sam's shoulder.
“In town? Hunting a werewolf. At this group? Sharing and caring.”
“Seriously, Dean. Wait... you're still hunting?”
“You're not?”
“No, I...” Sam breaks off and shakes his head, turns to face Dean and scowls. “You told me not to! You said we needed to get out, that this life was toxic.”
“It is.”
“So...”
Dean's eyes slip shut, he leans on his chair so that he's only inches away from Sam. He breathes in, out and his hand comes to rest on Sam's knee, completely innocuous, completely innocent.
Except for the sudden flash of images it triggers in Sam's mind, all the other times Dean's touched him like that, the way Dean's hands have gripped his thighs, lifted and parted them.
“I don't know how to do anything else, Sammy,” he admits. “I wanted you safe but I don't know how to do anything else.”
Sam wants that to be his cue, wants to swoop in and take Dean's mouth with his own, wants to swear and make Dean swear that they can keep on hunting forever. Sam's not doing anything important, anyway. He works in a convenience store and watches the home shopping channel.
But he doesn't think that's what Dean needs right now.
“You want to go get some coffee?” he asks instead. “I know a good place a few blocks over, better than the swill they got in here. You can tell me about... about your little girl?”
Sam holds his breath, forces his leg lax under Dean's involuntary flinch. It's a decent ten count before Dean's fingers loosen up again and then, to Sam's surprise, Dean nods.
“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, we can catch up. Like old times.”
“Yeah,” Sam agrees, standing alongside Dean with a watery, nervous smile. “Like old times.”
(no subject)
Love it, thanks bb ♥ ♥