FIC - After the Room
title: After the Room
pairing: Sam/Dean
rating:R
a/n: general late seaon 6 spoilers, in case you haven’t seen it yet.
summary: People asked for a sequel to "After the Wall” and "Again", so here it is. Hope I don’t disappoint.
Dean never even considered the possibility that it would take this long. How could it possibly take longer to physically detox from booze & coke than it took to detox from demon blood for fuck’s sake?
Days. Long ass horrific fucking days, a nightmare that Dean thought he’d never survive except when he reminded himself that he wasn’t the one who was going through the real pain, the pain that his baby boy was feeling. How many more times? How many more times could he hear Sammy calling his name, reverting back to their childhood, “De…please De…I need you, please , let me out, I’ll be good, I promise, I won’t do it again, I’ll do whatever you say, just please let me out, I need you, please …”
Dean waited as long as he could. He waited until Sam stopped calling for him, until there was just silence, and he knew then that his brother was sleeping, actually sleeping for the first time since the wall came down ( yeah, the wall didn’t “come down”, it was pushed down ).
Bobby and Dean talked for a while, debated whether or not it was time, Dean obviously taking the “YES, IT’S TIME” part of the argument as Bobby was more cautious and not so sure it had been long enough yet. But Bobby didn’t hold out much hope that he’d win that battle, knowing what he’d known for so many years about his boys (and yes, he did consider them to be his, he was the only patriarchal figure who’d been in their lives for years) but had never openly acknowledged the, uh, non-traditional brotherly affection that Sam and Dean had for each other. He’d accepted it, but never spoken of it, knowing that it was the right thing to do, at least for now. Maybe one day they’d all be okay with things being out in the open, but right now none of them were ready yet.
Dean was the one who made the call, but Bobby was the one who opened the door. He had to do it, because Dean had tried and couldn’t pull up enough strength to walk down the stairs and face his brother after what he’d put him through.
The sound of the lock disengaging and the door opening was like Heaven for Sam, that tiny little bit of Heaven that he’d had a taste of so long ago. But he’d expected to see Dean on the other side, and while he was grateful enough to fall into Bobby’s arms, he wondered why it was Bobby and not Dean there to rescue him.
“Bobby”, Sam gasped, his throat raw and swollen,”thank you, thank you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
Bobby put his arm around Sam’s broad and hard shoulders and replied “Nothin’ to be sorry for, boy, quit all that nonsense and come on back to us now, ya hear? We just want you back, ya thickheaded kid.”
And so on they went, up the stairs to where Dean was waiting, standing with a tense posture, his arms crossed against his chest, hoping to keep his heart from being physically ripped out as he prepared to face Sam for the first time since he’d left him down in the panic room to get this shit out of his system, to hope that he’d get back his Sammy. His brother, his love, his whole world.
The second the two of them locked eyes, Bobby knew it was time to make himself scarce. He didn’t even bother with fake excuses, just disappeared to another room so that Dean and Sam could at least try to make their way to reconciliation.
“Dean”, Sam whispered as soon as he saw his brother, who looked more pale and broken than he’d seen him for years. Sam had a new clarity about him, and he knew, just fucking knew how badly he’d hurt Dean while he was hurting himself. His first instinct was to tell Dean how terribly sorry he was for the things he’d done, and for the pain he’d inflicted on his brother AGAIN . But that particular instinct was gone the minute Dean pressed his body and lips againts Sam's.
Dean didn’t seem to be interested in apologies, because that would instinctively make him respond by telling Sammy how sorry he was for locking him up again. But he wasn’t sorry for doing it, so he didn’t want to say that he was.
Instead, he just shot his arms out and wrapped Sammy as tight as he possibly could, holding on to him like he’d wanted to for weeks, the two of them kissing so softly and gently, then more deeply and passionately. Finally, the need to take a breath overcame them both and Dean spoke as he pulled back.
“You know I had to do it, baby, I thought of every single other thing, I couldn’t come up with anything else. I just needed you back. After everything else we’ve gotten through, there was no way I could lose you to this . Please forgive me.”
He got his answer when Sam returned his embrace like no time had passed at all. There was no trust lost between them. Sam wasn't angry. Dean wasn't angry. It was a testament to the fact that everything they had that linked them together was so fucking real .
The hesitance that both brothers felt momentarily was washed away in the tiniest minute. Dean took Sam by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom, were he planned to make up this evening for every single second they’d had to spent apart.
pairing: Sam/Dean
rating:R
a/n: general late seaon 6 spoilers, in case you haven’t seen it yet.
summary: People asked for a sequel to "After the Wall” and "Again", so here it is. Hope I don’t disappoint.
Dean never even considered the possibility that it would take this long. How could it possibly take longer to physically detox from booze & coke than it took to detox from demon blood for fuck’s sake?
Days. Long ass horrific fucking days, a nightmare that Dean thought he’d never survive except when he reminded himself that he wasn’t the one who was going through the real pain, the pain that his baby boy was feeling. How many more times? How many more times could he hear Sammy calling his name, reverting back to their childhood, “De…please De…I need you, please , let me out, I’ll be good, I promise, I won’t do it again, I’ll do whatever you say, just please let me out, I need you, please …”
Dean waited as long as he could. He waited until Sam stopped calling for him, until there was just silence, and he knew then that his brother was sleeping, actually sleeping for the first time since the wall came down ( yeah, the wall didn’t “come down”, it was pushed down ).
Bobby and Dean talked for a while, debated whether or not it was time, Dean obviously taking the “YES, IT’S TIME” part of the argument as Bobby was more cautious and not so sure it had been long enough yet. But Bobby didn’t hold out much hope that he’d win that battle, knowing what he’d known for so many years about his boys (and yes, he did consider them to be his, he was the only patriarchal figure who’d been in their lives for years) but had never openly acknowledged the, uh, non-traditional brotherly affection that Sam and Dean had for each other. He’d accepted it, but never spoken of it, knowing that it was the right thing to do, at least for now. Maybe one day they’d all be okay with things being out in the open, but right now none of them were ready yet.
Dean was the one who made the call, but Bobby was the one who opened the door. He had to do it, because Dean had tried and couldn’t pull up enough strength to walk down the stairs and face his brother after what he’d put him through.
The sound of the lock disengaging and the door opening was like Heaven for Sam, that tiny little bit of Heaven that he’d had a taste of so long ago. But he’d expected to see Dean on the other side, and while he was grateful enough to fall into Bobby’s arms, he wondered why it was Bobby and not Dean there to rescue him.
“Bobby”, Sam gasped, his throat raw and swollen,”thank you, thank you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
Bobby put his arm around Sam’s broad and hard shoulders and replied “Nothin’ to be sorry for, boy, quit all that nonsense and come on back to us now, ya hear? We just want you back, ya thickheaded kid.”
And so on they went, up the stairs to where Dean was waiting, standing with a tense posture, his arms crossed against his chest, hoping to keep his heart from being physically ripped out as he prepared to face Sam for the first time since he’d left him down in the panic room to get this shit out of his system, to hope that he’d get back his Sammy. His brother, his love, his whole world.
The second the two of them locked eyes, Bobby knew it was time to make himself scarce. He didn’t even bother with fake excuses, just disappeared to another room so that Dean and Sam could at least try to make their way to reconciliation.
“Dean”, Sam whispered as soon as he saw his brother, who looked more pale and broken than he’d seen him for years. Sam had a new clarity about him, and he knew, just fucking knew how badly he’d hurt Dean while he was hurting himself. His first instinct was to tell Dean how terribly sorry he was for the things he’d done, and for the pain he’d inflicted on his brother AGAIN . But that particular instinct was gone the minute Dean pressed his body and lips againts Sam's.
Dean didn’t seem to be interested in apologies, because that would instinctively make him respond by telling Sammy how sorry he was for locking him up again. But he wasn’t sorry for doing it, so he didn’t want to say that he was.
Instead, he just shot his arms out and wrapped Sammy as tight as he possibly could, holding on to him like he’d wanted to for weeks, the two of them kissing so softly and gently, then more deeply and passionately. Finally, the need to take a breath overcame them both and Dean spoke as he pulled back.
“You know I had to do it, baby, I thought of every single other thing, I couldn’t come up with anything else. I just needed you back. After everything else we’ve gotten through, there was no way I could lose you to this . Please forgive me.”
He got his answer when Sam returned his embrace like no time had passed at all. There was no trust lost between them. Sam wasn't angry. Dean wasn't angry. It was a testament to the fact that everything they had that linked them together was so fucking real .
The hesitance that both brothers felt momentarily was washed away in the tiniest minute. Dean took Sam by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom, were he planned to make up this evening for every single second they’d had to spent apart.