SPN: Running to Catch Up Again
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storiesimakeupTitle: Running to Catch Up Again
Post Date: February 11, 2006
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Four personal revelations that Sam doesn’t share with Dean (and one that he does).
Notes: Thank you toandrodaixa for existing and such. Also for the audiencing and the betaing. More love than I can express without resorting to interpretive dance.
Running to Catch Up Again
Sam tries to tell Jess about his family. To explain at least some of his frustrations. He can't talk about Dad, but Dean...
So he sits at her feet, his head resting against her legs as he tries to articulate it.
"It's just like, like I'm still five years old to him. He's always trying to order me around and control me. Like he's totally perfect and I know nothing." He sighs.
Jess pets Sam's hair. "So basically he's an overbearing, overprotective, bossy know-it-all. I bet he picks on you, too." She sounds sympathetic.
"Exactly!" Sam is relieved she understands. "It's like--"
"It's like he's an older brother."
"What?" Sam looks up at her and she's laughing at him.
"Oh, Sam. You're such the typical baby of the family." She leans down, her hair falling like a curtain around Sam's face. "Imagine how bad he'd be if you were a girl." She ignores Sam's confused look and continues to pet him. "My brother wanted to kick your ass the first time he met you because you put your arm around me."
"Really? So that's, like, normal?"
Jess wrinkles her nose. "You're so weird sometimes, Sam. Look, I know you might not get along all that well, but all that stuff you just said? Textbook big brother stuff." She bends over him and kisses his forehead. "It just means he loves you."
"Oh." Sam shuts his eyes, suddenly feeling very hollow inside.
The day Sam leaves for college, Dean says, "I guess I'll see you around, Sammy." Then he looks back at the car. Dad is already inside. "Then again, maybe not."
He doesn't say goodbye, and Sam doesn't know how to respond. So he stands at the bus depot and watches them drive away long after the car has disappeared from sight.
It isn't until he's in his dorm room, unpacking the one bag that holds all his worldly belongings that Sam realizes he never intended to go through with it. For all his talk about being normal, Sam never wanted to leave his family. He just wanted--
He sits down on the narrow bunk, his head resting heavy in his hands. It scares Sam sometimes, how much he needs his family. How much he needs Dean. And the whole idea of college was to prove that he doesn't need Dean. That he can survive on his own.
But the thing is, that wasn't it at all. What Sam really wanted was for Dean to admit that he needed Sam back. Sam wanted Dean to ask him to stay.
Dean hadn't.
Oh, sure, Dean said, "You have a duty to this family," and, "I can't believe what a selfish bastard you are." But he didn't ask.
Sam wanted to be needed and instead had proven to himself just how unnecessary he was in the grand scheme of things. How unnecessary he was to Dean.
It seems like Sam has spent his entire life trying to prove himself, and never quite measuring up. Now there's nobody left to prove himself to, and he only has himself to blame.
Sam picks up the packet that was on the desk. Stares at it until the letters start to blur.
Welcome to Stanford
Dean almost dies on his eighteenth birthday, and they wait through the weekend with no small amount of trepidation as the next full moon passes, but nothing happens.
Sam is so mad he can't see straight. He manages to avoid talking to Dean for almost a week. As much as possible with the way they live, anyway. Except that Dad makes them spar and for the first time, Sam is more than holding his own against Dean and he ends up giving Dean a black eye and a bloody nose before Dad breaks them apart.
"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean yells, wiping his nose on his bare arm.
"I hate you!" Sam yells back before running off.
The problem with living like they do, though, is that he can only run so far as the car. So he sits there leaning against the bumper, kicking at the ground until Dean comes to find him.
"I'm gonna ask you one more time. What the hell was that about back there?"
"You almost died."
"What? The werewolf?" Dean snorts and leans against the bumper next to Sam. "Kind of an occupational hazard, there, buddy."
Sam has a split lip and bruises everywhere from their fight, but that is the thing that knocks his breath out of him.
It's the first time Sam really understands that Dean's not invincible, and his whole world shifts.
Sam is nine the first time he's allowed to go on a real hunt. Somehow he gets separated from Dad and Dean. But Sam doesn't cry or panic. Dad has taught him well, and he keeps calm and aware.
He finds them just in time to almost be torn open from head to toe by the thing they're hunting, but he ducks and rolls away as Dean shoots it, and ends up with only a scraped elbow to show for it.
"That was so cool, the way you shot that! It was just like bam and then!" Sam chats excitedly all the way back to the motel. "Did you see the way I just dropped? Like whoosh!"
He doesn't even notice that he's the only one talking until they pull into the parking space and Dean turns around and snaps, "Shut up, Sam!"
"Dean..." Dad says, but Dean is already getting out of the car.
Sam crawls out after him, and he looks between Dad and Dean, and they're saying something but not out loud.
"What?"
"You made some stupid moves tonight, Sam." Dean's voice is low and tight and angry.
Sam looks at Dad, then back at Dean, confused. "I did that drop just like you showed me. Didn't I do it right?"
"If you'd been paying attention to what you were doing like you were supposed to, you wouldn't have had to do it in the first place!"
"Dean!" Dad interrupts. "Go take a shower and cool off."
Dean storms off to the room, and Sam can't quite look Dad in the eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
Dad puts his hand on Sam's shoulder and says, "You just need to be more careful, Sammy."
Sam nods. "I didn't mean for Dean to be mad." He talks to the ground. "I just wanted him to be proud of me."
"Hey." Dad crouches down until he's eye-level with Sam. "Your brother is always proud of you. He just wants to be sure you're safe. Okay?"
"Okay," Sam says, but he doesn't quite believe him. He silently vows to train harder, because he wants to be able to protect Dean like Dean protects him, because that's what brothers are for. Dean told him so.
Sam watches as Dean sleeps. Tries to work things through his mind. Since he's been back, Dean's life has been in danger more times than Sam cares to count, and it scares Sam on some fundamental level that he'd rather not examine too closely.
But Sam's not a kid anymore. He can't afford to just get scared and angry, so he tries to sort through his feelings. Thinks of all the things that Dean has been to him. Father, mother, brother, friend, lover--
His mind trips over that last one, because where did that come from? He rolls the idea around in his head. Prods at it to test the truth of it, and oddly enough, it doesn't end up surprising him at all.
Dean is sleeping on his back, and his eyes open the moment Sam's knee touches the edge of the mattress. "Sammy?"
Sam doesn't say anything, just bends down and claims Dean's mouth. He ignores Dean's initial lack of response and slides his hand over Dean's ribs as he licks at Dean's lips, begging for entrance.
Just like that, Dean opens under him. His hands clutch at Sam's T-shirt and his mouth tastes like heat and mint and possession.
"How long?" Sam asks when they finally break apart.
"Never." Dean's eyes are closed and he shakes his head. "Always. I don't know."
"Okay." Sam nods because it shouldn't make sense, but it does. Because Dean is his and Dean is everything, and Sam thinks he's finally okay with that.
Post Date: February 11, 2006
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Word Count: 1400
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Four personal revelations that Sam doesn’t share with Dean (and one that he does).
Notes: Thank you to
androdaixa for existing and such. Also for the audiencing and the betaing. More love than I can express without resorting to interpretive dance.Sam tries to tell Jess about his family. To explain at least some of his frustrations. He can't talk about Dad, but Dean...
So he sits at her feet, his head resting against her legs as he tries to articulate it.
"It's just like, like I'm still five years old to him. He's always trying to order me around and control me. Like he's totally perfect and I know nothing." He sighs.
Jess pets Sam's hair. "So basically he's an overbearing, overprotective, bossy know-it-all. I bet he picks on you, too." She sounds sympathetic.
"Exactly!" Sam is relieved she understands. "It's like--"
"It's like he's an older brother."
"What?" Sam looks up at her and she's laughing at him.
"Oh, Sam. You're such the typical baby of the family." She leans down, her hair falling like a curtain around Sam's face. "Imagine how bad he'd be if you were a girl." She ignores Sam's confused look and continues to pet him. "My brother wanted to kick your ass the first time he met you because you put your arm around me."
"Really? So that's, like, normal?"
Jess wrinkles her nose. "You're so weird sometimes, Sam. Look, I know you might not get along all that well, but all that stuff you just said? Textbook big brother stuff." She bends over him and kisses his forehead. "It just means he loves you."
"Oh." Sam shuts his eyes, suddenly feeling very hollow inside.
The day Sam leaves for college, Dean says, "I guess I'll see you around, Sammy." Then he looks back at the car. Dad is already inside. "Then again, maybe not."
He doesn't say goodbye, and Sam doesn't know how to respond. So he stands at the bus depot and watches them drive away long after the car has disappeared from sight.
It isn't until he's in his dorm room, unpacking the one bag that holds all his worldly belongings that Sam realizes he never intended to go through with it. For all his talk about being normal, Sam never wanted to leave his family. He just wanted--
He sits down on the narrow bunk, his head resting heavy in his hands. It scares Sam sometimes, how much he needs his family. How much he needs Dean. And the whole idea of college was to prove that he doesn't need Dean. That he can survive on his own.
But the thing is, that wasn't it at all. What Sam really wanted was for Dean to admit that he needed Sam back. Sam wanted Dean to ask him to stay.
Dean hadn't.
Oh, sure, Dean said, "You have a duty to this family," and, "I can't believe what a selfish bastard you are." But he didn't ask.
Sam wanted to be needed and instead had proven to himself just how unnecessary he was in the grand scheme of things. How unnecessary he was to Dean.
It seems like Sam has spent his entire life trying to prove himself, and never quite measuring up. Now there's nobody left to prove himself to, and he only has himself to blame.
Sam picks up the packet that was on the desk. Stares at it until the letters start to blur.
Welcome to Stanford
Dean almost dies on his eighteenth birthday, and they wait through the weekend with no small amount of trepidation as the next full moon passes, but nothing happens.
Sam is so mad he can't see straight. He manages to avoid talking to Dean for almost a week. As much as possible with the way they live, anyway. Except that Dad makes them spar and for the first time, Sam is more than holding his own against Dean and he ends up giving Dean a black eye and a bloody nose before Dad breaks them apart.
"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean yells, wiping his nose on his bare arm.
"I hate you!" Sam yells back before running off.
The problem with living like they do, though, is that he can only run so far as the car. So he sits there leaning against the bumper, kicking at the ground until Dean comes to find him.
"I'm gonna ask you one more time. What the hell was that about back there?"
"You almost died."
"What? The werewolf?" Dean snorts and leans against the bumper next to Sam. "Kind of an occupational hazard, there, buddy."
Sam has a split lip and bruises everywhere from their fight, but that is the thing that knocks his breath out of him.
It's the first time Sam really understands that Dean's not invincible, and his whole world shifts.
Sam is nine the first time he's allowed to go on a real hunt. Somehow he gets separated from Dad and Dean. But Sam doesn't cry or panic. Dad has taught him well, and he keeps calm and aware.
He finds them just in time to almost be torn open from head to toe by the thing they're hunting, but he ducks and rolls away as Dean shoots it, and ends up with only a scraped elbow to show for it.
"That was so cool, the way you shot that! It was just like bam and then!" Sam chats excitedly all the way back to the motel. "Did you see the way I just dropped? Like whoosh!"
He doesn't even notice that he's the only one talking until they pull into the parking space and Dean turns around and snaps, "Shut up, Sam!"
"Dean..." Dad says, but Dean is already getting out of the car.
Sam crawls out after him, and he looks between Dad and Dean, and they're saying something but not out loud.
"What?"
"You made some stupid moves tonight, Sam." Dean's voice is low and tight and angry.
Sam looks at Dad, then back at Dean, confused. "I did that drop just like you showed me. Didn't I do it right?"
"If you'd been paying attention to what you were doing like you were supposed to, you wouldn't have had to do it in the first place!"
"Dean!" Dad interrupts. "Go take a shower and cool off."
Dean storms off to the room, and Sam can't quite look Dad in the eyes.
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
Dad puts his hand on Sam's shoulder and says, "You just need to be more careful, Sammy."
Sam nods. "I didn't mean for Dean to be mad." He talks to the ground. "I just wanted him to be proud of me."
"Hey." Dad crouches down until he's eye-level with Sam. "Your brother is always proud of you. He just wants to be sure you're safe. Okay?"
"Okay," Sam says, but he doesn't quite believe him. He silently vows to train harder, because he wants to be able to protect Dean like Dean protects him, because that's what brothers are for. Dean told him so.
Sam watches as Dean sleeps. Tries to work things through his mind. Since he's been back, Dean's life has been in danger more times than Sam cares to count, and it scares Sam on some fundamental level that he'd rather not examine too closely.
But Sam's not a kid anymore. He can't afford to just get scared and angry, so he tries to sort through his feelings. Thinks of all the things that Dean has been to him. Father, mother, brother, friend, lover--
His mind trips over that last one, because where did that come from? He rolls the idea around in his head. Prods at it to test the truth of it, and oddly enough, it doesn't end up surprising him at all.
Dean is sleeping on his back, and his eyes open the moment Sam's knee touches the edge of the mattress. "Sammy?"
Sam doesn't say anything, just bends down and claims Dean's mouth. He ignores Dean's initial lack of response and slides his hand over Dean's ribs as he licks at Dean's lips, begging for entrance.
Just like that, Dean opens under him. His hands clutch at Sam's T-shirt and his mouth tastes like heat and mint and possession.
"How long?" Sam asks when they finally break apart.
"Never." Dean's eyes are closed and he shakes his head. "Always. I don't know."
"Okay." Sam nods because it shouldn't make sense, but it does. Because Dean is his and Dean is everything, and Sam thinks he's finally okay with that.
