Graveyard Digger, Coffin Case Sinner

You Built In Me This City

[Summary: It wasn't their first fight by any means, but it was the first time, the only time, Dean had ever told him to leave. -- chapter one of two]

Sam stood as his ride rolled to a halt and lifted his backpack from the seat next to him. He glanced out the window as he heard laughter, and saw a group of people gathered outside, laughing and hugging. He exhaled heavily and slipped the backpack onto his shoulders, then stepped off the bus.

An hour later, he was sitting in a coffee shop, ingesting much-needed caffeine. He hadn't slept in 48 hours, he was tired, and everything inside him felt hollow. He frowned, shoved the thoughts that were plaguing him away. His eyes shifted to the phone by his hand on the table; it had gone dead an hour into his bus ride. He really needed to charge it, and would as soon as he found a motel room.

Sam brushed a hand over his eyes. He needed some sleep. He needed food. He needed Dean. He picked up and pocketed his phone before standing and leaving the shop.

Half an hour later, the 22-year old walked into an empty motel room. He locked the door behind him before moving further into the room to toss his backpack on the bed. He placed his phone and his gun beside it - he needed to plug in his phone before he went to sleep - and started digging into his pack find some clean clothes. Shower, then sleep.

The young man was standing beneath the spray of water in the shower, washing shampoo out of his hair, when the panic set in. What the fuck had he done? He muttered a breathless "fuck" as he leaned forward, palms against the tile, trying to take calming breaths. Tears and water dripped down his face as he rested his forehead against the tiled wall. "Fuck!"

He and Dean had their share of fights over the years, most of which passed quickly. Every now and again they had an epic one, which led to heated, shouted words and slammed doors. Two nights ago had been an epic one.

He had watched his brother kill people, had helped him when those urges for darkness struck him, but it was the stupid little things that blew up between them. Dean, for example, was possessive, and Sam loved that about him. He did. He loved everything about his brother. Still, sometimes that possession bordered maniacal and homicidal.

Sam had stopped in at a bar near their motel, where he had gone to have a couple of beers while Dean went out in search of his own "fix". He and a woman sitting next to him had struck up a conversation (about books, of all things) while having their beers. After a while, they said their goodbyes, and both had moved to get up and leave the bar. The woman had stumbled while getting off her bar stool, and Sam caught her. Whether it was intentional or not, he didn't know, but he had enough manners not to let her fall her on face. She had given an embarrassed laugh, muttered a thanks, and Sam had let her go. He had turned to leave, and found himself face-to-face with Dean. Dean, whose eyes had flicked to the departing girl, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he tried to contain his obvious rage.

The rage, the twitching of his brother's fingers at his sides, that look in his eyes. Signs that that man hadn't found a target, hadn't satisfied whatever darkness drove him. Sam had guided his brother from the bar immediately, before he decided the clumsy woman was his next target, and back toward their nearby room. Dean was oddly silent throughout the walk, shooting angry glances at him as he explained what had happened at the bar.

It had all gone to hell once they reached their room. Dean's anger overrode his reasoning, and he had demanded to know if Sam went to "find someone" every time Dean went out to do his thing. It had escalated from there, ending with "Leave, then!" from his brother, and a slammed door as Dean stormed out of the room.

It wasn't their first fight by any means, but it was the first time, the only time, Dean had ever told him to leave.

Sam had listened as the Impala's engine roared to life, heard the squealing of tires as his brother peeled out of the parking lot.