Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Well, Sam, look who’s back.” John stated with a straight face, lips drawn in a thin, unwavering line.

Dean looked over to where his younger brother stood against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked so distant- so withdrawn. His eyes were drooping, like he hadn’t slept in days. Messy strands of hair decorated his forehead. Dean wanted nothing more than to just grab Sam buy the shoulders and yell ‘I DIDN'T LEAVE’

“Dean.” Sam stated, pulling his chin up, no emotion in his voice.

“Tell your brother what happened, Dean.” John commanded, bringing his own arms up to cross over his chest.

“I uh…” Dean started, lowering his head to stare at the laces on his boots, “I ran off.”

John huffed out a breath of air and Dean felt nausea run through him at the way his father carried himself with such self-righteousness right now. Acting like those weren’t the exact words he had told him to say, the words he had practiced with him. Dean shook his head slowly side to side as he brought it up hesitantly in order to witness Sam’s reaction. He didn’t know what he expected. Maybe anger, maybe confusion, maybe sadness. Probably some raging puppy dog eyes.

He was surprised to be met with a blank expression, instead.

It was unreadable.

Maybe Dean wasn’t the best at reading faces or knowing how people felt, but with Sam he could always tell. The fact that he couldn’t read him now left his heart beating fast and made his skin crawl with unease.

“Why?” John prodded and Dean felt heat in his chest, anger bubbling under his skin.

“Because I was sick of the life.” Dean grit out the line that John gave him not even twenty minutes prior.

“Because you were sick of the life,” John repeated with distaste dripping from his tone, “I hope this is a lesson for all of us. You two pack and get some sleep, we leave tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” Sam and Dean asserted simultaneously, turning away from John and walking towards their room.

Dean felt like there was a vice wrapped around his chest, and everytime he looked at Sam it clenched tighter. He couldn’t stand lying to his little brother.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” He announced with a sniffle as he threw a pair of blue jeans into his suitcase.

That pair was joined by two others by the time Sam replied with a quiet, “It’s okay.”

Dean bit his lip and clenched his eyes shut momentarily, trying to shut down how freaking sad it made him that Sam thought he had run out on him.

“You look tired, have you been sleeping?” Dean couldn’t help but ask.

“Gee, thanks,” Sam bit back before lowering his voice, “No I haven’t been sleeping that amazing lately Dean, I was worried.”

“Worried about what?” Dean asked, already pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Gee, I don’t know. What could I possibly have to be worried about?” Sam replied with sarcasm.

“I’m 18 Sam, you don’t have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Dean sighed, but was secretly smiling a little behind the frown he wore.

“You don’t have a monopoly on worry, Dean. I can worry about you if I want to so you may as well not fight me on it.” Sam renounced, throwing a pair of shoes into his duffle with a thud.

“Bossy.” Dean mumbled, trying and failing to get a laugh out of Sam.

A few moments passed in silence where Dean could only hear his own pulse pumping in his ears. The quiet was driving him crazy, and he couldn’t stand the tension surrounding him right now.

It went on like that for hours. Small conversation and awkward silence. Dean just hoped they would move passed it soon.

——————————————

“Dean?”

Dean opened his eyes barely when he heard Sam’s soft voice call from the twin bed a couple feet away from his own. His back was facing Sam, and he was glad. He couldn’t look at him right now.

He let out a little sigh, trying to swallow down everything that had happened over the past two weeks. The memories and adversity trickled down his throat like shards of glass. His head was pounding, aching and throbbing behind his eyes and ears. He felt a heavy weight on his chest, and wanted nothing more than to just cry or scream or yell or break something. He had to shove all of that away, though. He couldn’t tell Sam the truth. He couldn’t let Sam know he was upset- freaking heartbroken - or else he would become suspicious. It was safer this way. He had to follow his father’s orders for once and let Sam think he ran out on him. Let the one person on the earth that was supposed to count on him more than anyone else think he abandoned him. Because John couldn’t look like the bad parent. Sam couldn’t know that Dean lost the week’s food money in a poker game, and he couldn’t know that it was John that threw him out.

It took everything Dean had to calm his nerves and let out a deep breath.

It took every ounce of his body and soul to keep his voice from wavering when he answered Sam, “Yeah, Sam?”

Dean just prayed to God it was a question he could answer. If he had to lie to Sam again he would start to lose parts of himself. It already tore him apart from the inside out. Guilt gnawed at his chest and clawed at his heart.

“I just…” Sam started with a sigh, “I know.”

Dean forced himself silent by digging his teeth into his lip and allowed a few seconds to pass with his heart clenched in his chest.

With no reply heard, Sam elaborated, “You don’t have to say anything, I know he probably has something over you. I just… I want you to know that I know. And it’s okay, none of it’s your fault.”

Dean’s tongue was now collecting the tangy, metallic taste of blood. His teeth broke the skin of his bottom lip as he tried so hard to not cry out. As tears started to pour down his face in messy paths, he was even more glad that Sam was facing his back.

He wanted to scream and cry and laugh and break down. He was so damn happy that Sam knew, because of course Sam knew. Dean was actually kind of mad at himself for thinking Sam hadn’t known. His geek brother was too smart for his own good, and Dean was so damn proud of him. He just let the tears run down his face, one after another. It felt so good to finally let those tears out, to let some of the pain and horror escape.

Because Sam knew.

He knew that Dean didn’t abandon him. He knew that the one person he could count on would never leave him willingly. He knew.

Dean shook with the emotions leaving him, and had to bring a hand up to cover his mouth and halt the sound of any cries leaving him. If John heard any crying or talking from the other room he would storm in and that would be a disaster for everyone involved. Most importantly he didn’t want Sam to see him cry. He didn’t want his brother to worry.

“Dean?” He heard Sam ask again, quieter this time.

He didn’t even realize it had been a solid two minutes since Sam spoke, and he had left his brother hanging with no reaction.

He tried to control himself and swallow down all of his emotions as he opened his mouth to answer.

“I hear you, Sammy,” He whispered, trying and failing to not let his voice crack, “Thank you.”

He meant it with every bone in his body. He was so grateful that Sam knew, and that he told him he knew. So so grateful that Sam didn’t let him think he thought Dean left him by choice.

So grateful for Sam, and that damn brain of his.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Sam said with finality, voice soft and content.

Dean felt his heart burst. He knew his brother heard his voice crack. He knew Sam heard all of the relief and emotions in his voice, and yet he left it alone. Sam didn’t address it at all and Dean was so damn thankful. God, he loved that kid.

“Goodnight, Sammy.” Dean replied with a deep breath, closing his eyes slowly and welcoming the darkness.

He was almost asleep when he heard his younger brother mumble, “Don’t call me that.”

That night, Dean fell asleep with a smile on his face.