Chapter Text
Author's notes: First of a series I shall write, and keep adding to as and when I finally get them finished and out my computer.
It’s quintessentially a bad idea, and he sits in the car impassive and brooding, not sure of what to say or do. It’s been like this for a week now, Sam pressing forever pressing and Dean saying no, he says no to everything Sam suggests now and it’s getting him down and Sam too. Today has been different; Sam hasn’t said a word since they woke up in the overheated room of the motel just off the Interstate. Never spoke on single word all through breakfast and never spoke whilst they packed, filled the car and drove away. Dean just drives listening to Journey on the machine in front of him, Sam says nothing, makes no suggestions, and never once asks. Dean knows or thinks he knows that Sam is just sulking but something in the back of his mind is niggling away, making him wonder to himself if Sam isn’t really serious this time.
Sam first huddled up to him when it was cold many years ago when they were still kids. His long limbs were just begging to sprout and it was rather like holding a bony daddy-long-legs than his little brother, Sam must have been all of 13 and not totally aware of himself then. Dean was fully aware and it quietly disturbed him how he felt with his younger sibling clinging to him like he was life itself.
Sam had declared he loved Dean when he was 15; Dean for his part had simply gotten up out of the ratty chair he was sitting in and headed out the door, afraid of where the conversation would go. He came back drunk, unable to walk in a straight line and talking incoherently.
Of course, when he walked out the door he never saw the crushed hurt look on Sam’s face never saw the bitter fat tears that streaked his cheeks. He never heard Sam sobbing; in fact Sam was in bed asleep after that and never said he loved Dean again.
When Sam left for Sanford he never said very much that time either, never said much when Dean collected him years later to go hunt for Dad. An awful lot of road and experience had passed since then, and now Sam had said he wanted to be with Dean, all the time in a relationship and Dean had simply said no. How many different ways could he possibly say no, so he tried quietly, softly with no force, angrily and downright off the rails but Sam still kept asking. The more he asked the more Dean refused and the more he refused the more desperate Sam got, Dean knew that he’d said no one too many times and Sam would never ask again.
Just like when Dean had walked away when Sam told him something as simple and beautiful that he loved him, now he was pushing him away again.
The song on the in car stereo finished and Dean turned the tape cassette over and began humming to the next tune, Sam neither heard or cared, he watched as trees sped by and the fields filled with crops changed colour on the farms they passed. Sam would never again ask Dean for anything, never beg, never request or expect anything. In fact Sam was beginning to rethink being with Dean, he wasn’t getting what he knew he wanted and what Dean wanted. He never would get what he wanted in that respect from Dean, Dean just couldn’t come to terms with the fact he wanted his brother just as much as Sam did.
Sam thought it was best to put this all in the open, but yet again he’d been wrong and it hurt just as much as the first rejection. All the same he knew he couldn’t carry on asking, it wasn’t dignified, so he just didn’t have anything to say, what could he say? He certainly wouldn’t apologise to Dean he had nothing to be sorry for.
They reached their next job and Sam did speak to Dean, but only to find out information he didn’t really care if Dean felt good, bad or indifferent about the work in hand. He took the offered weapon and they went and did what they did best as a team, neither got hurt and they escaped without so much as a scratch. Weapons safely stashed they headed towards the nearest motel Dean asking if the one they saw was acceptable, only then did Sam sigh and agreed it looked okay. Dean nodded, but noticed Sam neither looked at him or acknowledged his existence other than talking when spoken too. It was now beginning to infuriate Dean, getting under his skin in the worst possible way. He saw red later that evening when an impassive Sam sat on the bed, freshly showered and dressed for bed flicking quietly through the channels, Sam didn’t once look up. Sam for half of his life had always looked at Dean it was Sam’s way of checking Dean was okay, not hurt all the usual brother protectorate conditioning he had. Sam didn’t do it once, never looked at Dean never checked him over, and Dean knew he’d lost Sam for good.
Sam would never climb into his bed again, never ask him for help, and never ask his opinion or permission on anything the only thing Sam would talk about was the next job. He would find the information tell Dean all he needed to know but never anything more, he would never ask how he felt, if he was injured or hurt he would never voluntarily pick up the medikit they had in the back of the car and do emergency surgery on his big brother. Dean would have to ask him and Sam would probably do it in total silence with no emotion in his face, no compassion and no empathy.
This made Dean totally see red and he exploded shouting and yelling, calling Sam everything he could think of including a few expletives that Sam knew were made up. Sam never said one single word, he just watched Dean which unnerved Dean even more, he grabbed his jacket and left the room fully intending to find a bar get drunk and roll back in around 3 am. Only Dean drove around for an hour, calmed down and little and went back to the empty motel room, Sam was gone.