Work Text:
Over the course of his entire life Dean Winchester had experienced a multitude of pain. Like the time he got sliced clean open on a hunt in Grand Rapids 2 years back or the time he and his dad mistakenly walked into a nest of Vampires and had barely managed to get out. Lost count of all the times he'd walked away with gashes everywhere, a slew of broken bones, eyes sealed shut, his body broken and bruised. Over the years they all kind of mushed together and yet, despite all this, none of it even came close to the agony he felt without Sam. His absence left a gaping hole inside him no amount of alcohol or cheap women could fill. He was miserable, completely and utterly alone and he felt the ache of it all the way to his bones, felt it settle over him, marking him like another scar.
He replayed the last memory with his brother in his head....... remembered the way Sam's eyes had been full of unspoken pleading and the way he looked at Dean as if he somehow held all the answers. The minutes ticked by quietly, the silence growing deafeningly loud, each brother waiting for the other to speak. Instead they sat there in silence waiting for the bus that would soon be taking Sam away, and Dean's heart along with him.
"Dean"
It was just a whisper or perhaps a question but Dean couldn't find his voice to answer, a knot forming in his throat and tears welling up in his eyes and he was about to lose it. He wanted nothing more than to beg Sam to stay but knew he had nothing to offer his younger brother. Nothing he could possibly say to convince Sam that this was a mistake, that they were always better when they were together. Not without revealing the sad and pathetic truth that Dean hadn't even admitted to himself.
"I can't do this Sammy."
He replied with a shaky voice and quickly got up no other words spoken, didn't turn to glance back at Sam, just hopped into the Impala and tore out of that parking lot as fast as she would take him. If he had of looked back though he would have noticed his baby brother, tears streaming down, hands curled around himself the look of utter loss and disappointment on his face. Letting Sam leave was the hardest thing he's ever done but he knew it was the right decision. Convinced himself that he had made the right choice. That maybe now his baby brother could have the normal life he always wanted.
Most days Dean thinks he's okay. Can manage to go the whole day without thinking about his brother, manages to get the job done with no unnecessary casualties and considers it a win but then the sun goes down and the hotel room falls quiet and he's left alone with all his thoughts. Thoughts of Sam, always of Sam. He tries to push them down, fights against the sudden onslaught of memories. Memories so painfully beautiful they rip him apart and yet at the same time make him whole. Memories that rake across his heart stirring up the feelings he's so desperately tried to bury but they surface in his head and in his heart demanding to be given a voice.
Sometimes they're soft and subtle like a stolen glance when their eyes would meet and linger there just a little longer than necessary or the remembrance of how warm his brothers body felt against his lost in sleep, tucked in tight against him. Of how the sound of Sam's even and steady breathes had become the soundtrack to his life. Then, sometimes they were wild and urgent like the way Sam would moan against his ear, lost in sweet dreams, and how it would take every bit of Dean's strength not to just take his baby brother right there. To not claim his brothers lips with his and drag out every beautiful and needy sound he could make.
A sound breaks the silence of the dark, empty room and for a moment Dean doesn't realize it's the sound of his heart breaking; breaking for the hundredth time. Despite his best efforts, tears streak down his face and pool into the curve of his neck. He wants to wipe them away, to pull himself together, wants to not feel this God damn weak but it's pointless.
A vicious tremor rakes through his body pulling from his chest a broken cry and the pain floods through him, consuming him entirely.
It's not the first time Dean falls asleep wrecked and empty with his brother's name on his chapped lips, he's also aware it probably won't be the last but in the security of the dark room, hidden away from prying eyes, he holds on and allows it to take him over hoping that tomorrow will be easier. That it won't be quite as bad, that this love won't destroy him quite as violently.