SPN Fic: It Hurts Me Too || Part 6, BWW
Series: Blood, Water, and Whiskey
Word Count: 817
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam, slight OFC
Warnings/Disclaimer: All your SPN are belong to Kripke and Co.
Summary: You know Dean and Jo’s side of the story. Remember Sam? He’s here too.
Part 1. || Part 2. || Part 3. || Part 4. || Part 5. || Part 7. || Part 8. || Part 9.
The first trip to Montana sucked ass. Sam cringed in disgust as he thought about the 13 hour car ride with Led Zeppelin blasting most of the way and Dean driving like a madman. There had been no explanation—just Dean coming in from making or taking a call and saying they had to leave. Sam had tried to sleep most of the way, but with music like “The Immigrant Song” playing, it just hadn’t worked very well. In Billings, he had calmly decided his brother had experienced a psychotic break because he unceremoniously dumped Sam at a hotel with instructions to book a room and stay put.
When he came back later, Sam was relieved to see his brother looking more normal and relaxed than he had in the past two weeks. There was a vaguely familiar smell that clung to Dean and filled the air as he leaned across Sam to grab a beer. Realization struck him full force. It was the same smell that had clung to him for hours after he did some horrible things at a bar, like showing up possessed for starters.
Dean had been with Jo.
Sam remembered saying he had to take a piss as an excuse to go hide his shock.
The second visit was pretty nice. They were between jobs, there was no rush getting to Montana, and they had plenty of money. Dean was incredibly elusive as to why they were going back to a state they had left only three weeks ago, but Sam knew. He just didn’t want to say anything. After getting left at the Country Inn and Suites on Main Street, he booked a room then caught a bus to MSU-Billings. The campus was beautiful and the library was nice with free WiFi. Sam had found an empty table and fired up his laptop. He had figured he might as well do research while he had plenty of time on his hands. Four hours later, Sam had learned most of the staffs’ names and had even had a pleasant conversation with a girl reading Jane Austen in a sunny corner.
Dean was completely oblivious that the third visit had been entirely planned out by his brother. Sam had found a quickie job about an hour outside the Billings city limits when he noticed Dean getting uptight and restless. They were in town for three days. During that trip, Sam mentally thanked his brother for the first time for starting this whole crazy thing. While Dean spent his time with Jo, Sam spent his time hanging out with college students and even took that nice girl from the library out to lunch.
The fourth visit was almost wonderful. Dean was gone for three and a half days and didn’t call or anything. Sam felt rather like a normal college-aged guy. He hung out at the college, took that nice girl out again (her name was Rachel and she wanted to be a child psychologist), and even went to a free concert. When they left, Sam was surprised to feel a twinge of sadness. For the first time in a long time, he felt at home somewhere.
The fifth visit was hell. Not even 24 hours after Dean left Sam, he was back. He looked pale and drawn, even worse than when he left. The Djinn had screwed with him pretty bad, but Sam knew this was something else. Dean practically locked the two of them inside the room and sat quiet and still on his bed before opening his mouth. Sam listened hard as Dean tried to spill his guts about why they had been coming to Billings. Of course, Sam didn’t interrupt to say he already knew. His heart sank, however, as Dean continued and confessed Jo’s secret worries. Sam started feeling sick as he realized why Dean was saying all this. Like it was a prep course for what to do if something happened to him. After Sam promised to put Jo’s number in his phone and to remember why it was there, Dean left. Sam watched him walk heavily to the Impala. Backlit by the sun coming in the car, he could see his brother lean his forehead against the steering wheel momentarily before driving away. The rest of the day, Sam sat in the room. He didn’t feel like pretending to be a college kid anymore.
They left in the darkest hours before dawn the next morning. As they blew past the city limits sign, a radio station flared into life out of the static. Bob Dylan was singing. The sun was coming up. Sam acted as if he didn’t see his brother quickly drag a hand across his eyes.
If not for you,
Babe, I'd lay awake all night,
Wait for the mornin' light
To shine in through,
But it would not be new,
If not for you.