Cement
Cement
Author: Chameleon75
Rating: PG
Characters: Dean (P.O.V) and Sam Winchester
Pairing: none; Just brotherly bonding
Word Count: 1396
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: General references to past and current season.
Summary: Dean’s mind drifts while driving to the next hunt.
Disclaimer: I own nothing so don’t sue me! Just borrowing Sera’s boys and having some fun with them. Neither do I own-Steppenwolf, Nirvana or Metallica.
A/N: This plot vulture would not stop circling until I exercised it. My vultures unfortunately do not respond to Latin like regular demons do, they only stop pestering me when I get it down on paper. Italics indicated Dean’s thoughts underline indicates music lyrics.
*~*
I have been addicted to hunting every since that very first kill. I helped dad track this freakazoid and when I put that silver bullet in its head-I felt my heart pounding, my blood was thundering in my ears and I felt ten foot tall and bulletproof. I knew from that exact moment I would be a hunter.
Sammy, on the other hand, seemed to loathe hunting. He disliked the lifestyle and ran away as far as Stanford to escape this fate. I had a hard time understanding his disinterest and his decision. I knew from that first hunt that this was what I was born to do. My dreams of hunting with Sammy shattered the night he left for California.
Hunting alone still offered the same adrenaline rush but the moments between the hunts were what were hard to handle. Some hunters seem to prefer to work alone. I don’t think I am built that way. I like having someone around to bounce ideas off of, tease, fight with and just be. Just be with someone who knows me and the lifestyle.
When Sammy rejoined me after Jess, although I hated he had to suffer that pain. I have to be honest (at least with myself) that having him back in my life was the best. What has Sammy done to me? Even my thoughts have turned into lifetime moments.
“Headache better Sammy?” I ask.
“It’s Sam and yeah. The Tylenol killed it.” Sam lazily replied.
“Music?” I turn up the charm with a smile and a hopeful tone. Sam nodded at the suggestion.
Twiddling with the dials trying to find a classic rock station amongst all the alternative and country crap flooding the airwaves in Oklahoma, I finally hear “Get your motor running…Get out on the highway.” Hell yeah!
*~*
I have lost Sammy a couple of times. Each time we are alone we fall apart. Sam turned into a demon humping, blood drinking freak. I plastered on a fake smile and worked at being a step-father. On the surface I had gotten out and appeared to be happy but they didn’t see the whole picture. The nightmares and the lonely, grieving, broken man ready to join my brother in hell. With all the shit piled on both of us, it’s a wonder we are still sane-if we were sane to begin with-Freud would probably have a hay day psychoanalyzing us. Fuck! Even his college educated five dollars words are starting to rub off on me but I digress. (Grrrr- the walking dictionary needs to shut up sometimes. I am starting to not only talk but think like him)
Losing Sammy to the cage was a real eye-opener for me. I just don’t function well with normal. As great as Lisa and Ben are…that life was not for me. This; being behind the wheel of my baby, Sam riding shotgun and heading towards my next adrenaline fix is what I have always known and wanted. “Hey! Wait! I got a new complaint. Forever in debt to your priceless advice…Your advice”
“Sam did you change the station!?” I growl when the song interrupted my thoughts. I actually like Nirvana but Sam doesn’t need to know that.
“No I didn’t. It’s a mix station that plays rock from the 60’s to current. Leave it so we can both have some decent music.” Sam whined in his little brother, demanding tone. “Besides you were tapping along before you realized it wasn’t a tune from the 70’s. Not all 90’s music is bad Dean.”
“Fine, Samantha. Don’t start throwing your bitch face my direction. I am warning you though. If they start playing crap, then I am turning it!” I mock grumble.
“Jerk”
“Bitch”
Which is our code for everything’s cool. This easy communication is what I missed. We can both be growling and spitting then one of us will call out the pet names and all is good. It’s so fucking awesome having Sam back with me again. Robosam was not any kind of replacement for my little brother.
*~*
My elbow just got banged. I turn my head to see Sam with his freakishly long left arm digging around in the duffel he placed in the backseat this morning.
“Hey you big oaf, don’t you know better than hitting the arm of the driver?” Dean griped.
“Chill out Dean. Just trying to get this.” As Sam places a book in his lap, “I am going to read. Trying to find any information I can about Eve.”
“Only a giant geek would put his nose in a book and research on such a beautiful day. Carry on then nerd-boy”, Dean snarks with a brief smile.
The DJ announces Metallica on our compromise station. I reach over to crank up the volume. “So close, no matter how far… Couldn’t be much more from the heart…Forever trusting who we are…And nothing else matters. I never opened myself this way…Life is ours, we live it our way…All these words I don’t just say…And nothing else matters.”
*~*
Couple of hours later, a tape is playing low in the background replacing the station that was lost to the static void. Sam has positioned himself with his duffel on the passenger door with his back holding it in place. His left leg is hiked up on the bench seat with his book in his lap. From the look on his face he is totally engrossed in his nerdy textbook.
The sun is on its way towards the west for the day. The windows are down and the cooling breeze is ruffling my hair. Sam’s ‘I refuse to cut my precious hair even though its way too long’ mane is a mess after being windblown all day. The Impala continues to eat the miles all the while just humming along (like the good girl she is). I feel stiffness in my legs and back after driving all day. I need to start looking for a town big enough for a decent diner and a motel. As much as I love my baby…all three of us need our rest.
“Dean? What have you been thinking about so hard today? Is there something bothering you?” Sam queried as he closed his book.
“Not thinking about much Sammy. Just enjoying the drive and the view” I dodge the question. No way is I am going to have a mushy chick flick moment with Sam now. I am hungry, tired and ready to stretch out.
“Yeah, well, if you feel the need to talk about it, hit me up after dinner. I am starving and ready to find a room” Sam replies with a small smile. I can’t believe he is letting it go! He is usually like a dog with a bone. It is actions like this, knowing when to push and when to gracefully back off, that makes me appreciate Sam more each day.
“On it, dinner and a room coming up, your highness” Dean returns Sam’s grin and steps on the gas.
This quiet easy going downtime is what I missed the most while Sammy was gone. The time between the hunts, days like today are what keep me going steadily towards the next big thing. Our upbringing, the hunting, the big events such as going to hell and saving the world, are the strong bricks that our relationship is built on. No one can go through all that shit without building one hell of a bond. What no one else seems to notice-is the cement that holds all those bricks together.
*~*
All reviews are welcome and appreciated.