Work Text:
Everything I Didn’t Say.
5:00 AM.
Dean was the first one out of him, his brother and his father, to be awake. He couldn’t sleep so he decided to do some research on the vampire nest they’ve been after.
Well, he was, until he found something bookmarked in Sam’s stuff and this time he really wasn’t trying to snoop in Sam’s things because that’s where all of the research on it is. Sam bookmarked the Stanford home page. Why does Sam have the Stanford home page bookmarked?
Dean glanced over at his sleeping brother and father and then back to the computer, finding Sam’s link to his email.
Yeah, it might be wrong to go through his little brother’s email, but when has anything Dean’s ever done been considered technically right?
Dean tried to think what Sam’s password could be. He tried the obvious things, Sam’s birthday, his father’s birthday, his mother’s birthday, his favorite animal, color, you name it Dean probably tried it. It’s a wonder he hasn’t gotten locked out of Sam’s email yet.
Dean furrowed his eyebrows and tried one more thing, surprised when it worked.
“My birthday Sammy,” Dean muttered, shaking his head with a smile on his face. “Sappy little brother.”
All Dean could see for a good hundred or so emails were emails from Stanford, but nothing leading up to the fact that Sam might have applied there, just that they’re interested in him going there.
Dean got up quietly, walking over to Sam’s duffle bag and trying his best to unzip it as quiet as humanly possible. He had rifled through Sam’s bag and was just about to give up when he saw a large orange envelope at the very bottom of the bag. Dean grabbed it and saw that it was already opened so he took out the papers, the first one shocking and angering him.
Sam applied to Stanford, Sam got into Stanford and Sam has a full ride to Stanford.
Dean put the envelope back and zipped Sam’s bag back up, walking back over to the computer. He closed out Sam’s email and went to one of the links about the nest’s location and he tried to focus, he really did but that letter, the fact that Sam applied was just eating at him.
Dean closed the laptop and went over to his bag, grabbing some clean clothes and heading for the bathroom to take a shower. Closing and locking the door behind him, he looked himself in the mirror, trying to convince himself that Sammy wasn’t leaving because of him.
It didn’t work.
5:30 AM.
Sam woke up to the shower running and his father still passed out drunk.
How did he know that he was passed out drunk? He was still awake, even though he pretended not to be, when the man straggled in the door at two in the morning.
Sam got up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he walked over to the laptop, gonna try to get some more research on the vampire nest before John woke up.
He logged onto the internet and went into his bookmarks, internally groaning when he remembered that he didn’t bookmark what he was looking up about the vampire’s last night. He went into the history, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion when he saw that his email had been logged onto in the past thirty minutes.
Dean must’ve-
Oh God. He saw the Stanford bookmark and the emails and-
His bag, he had to have looked in his bag and found the acceptance letter.
Sam felt like his was gonna throw up. He had done so well at hiding this from his brother and John. If they find out, God, if John finds out, they’re gonna be pissed.
Sam heard the shower shut off so he quickly went to the page he needed, closing out the extra window the history popped up in.
Dean emerged from the bathroom not five minutes later, shaking his hair like a dog as he walked over to Sam.
“Hey Sammy, find anything new on the nest?” Dean asked, oddly cheerful.
“Um, just that there was another killing about two blocks from where we suspect the nest to be.” Sam told him, hesitant but he wasn’t gonna question why Dean wasn’t reaming him out right now.
Dean patted his back and moved over to the fridge, obviously trying to find food.
Two days later, 9:00 PM.
“Okay, Dean and I will go in,” John started, explaining how the attack on the nest was gonna go down. “Sam, you stay here and if we’re not back in twenty minutes-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, why do I have to stay? It’d help if I were to go in with you guys.” Sam interrupted.
“It’s not safe for you-“
“It’s not safe for you two either.” Sam argued.
“You’re staying in the car, Sam. That’s final.”
Sam just grabbed the cell phone and stayed quiet, looking out the window towards the vampire nest.
“If we’re not back in twenty, call Bobby, got it?”
Sam stayed quiet.
“Sam, do you understand? Call-“
“Bobby if you’re not back in twenty, I got it.” Sam’s voice was cold as stone, not even sparing the two a glance.
Dean and John got out of the car and started walking around near the vampire nest.
“You didn’t have to be so hard on him back there,” Dean whispered.
“He doesn’t get it,” John murmured back, looking around and drawing his machete. “This is too dangerous for him.”
“Maybe we need to-“
“Shh,” John shushed Dean quickly, hearing twigs break behind him.
The two turned around quickly and saw Sam with a machete and a vampire on the ground, beheaded.
“Sam,” Dean started loudly, immediately realizing his mistake.
John and Dean turned back around and saw a good four to six vampires heading towards them. Both boys started fighting to their fullest extent, beheading the vampires one by one, Sam covering them from behind.
When the three had finally successfully beheaded the entire nest, they started walking back to the car, John making it perfectly clear that he was pissed at the younger of his two boys.
“I told you to stay your ass behind,” John barked, shoving open the trunk of the Impala. “Why do you have to make things so difficult? Why can’t you just listen to me for once Sam?”
John all but threw his machete in the trunk of the car and stormed off, going to search for something or another back at the nest. Dean silently cleaned it and put it in the right spot, doing the same to his. He held his hand out for Sam’s machete, not having the strength to look at his little brother at the moment.
“I know you know,” Sam said solemnly, handing Dean the bloodied machete, watching as he took his time cleaning it.
“I don’t know what you’re,” Dean cleared his throat, trying to keep himself from sounding like he was on the edge of tears. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you got into my email and I know you found the acceptance letter. I’m not stupid Dean and I’m not a kid anymore, so don’t treat me with kid gloves please.” Sam pleaded.
Dean shrugged.
“You’re going off to Stanford; it’s none of my business.” Dean carefully put the machete down next to his own, closing the trunk afterwards.
“You’re doing what?”
Both of the boys turned and looked at John, Dean quickly turning away and getting in the passenger side of the front seat.
Dean was his perfect little soldier and perfect little soldiers don’t cry, especially not at the thought of their little brother leaving them.
Dean could hear them yelling at each other from inside the car. He tried to distract himself by getting out a tape he had made for Sam but that didn’t work.
They got in the car, still arguing loudly as John cranked up the Impala, the hum of the engine soothing Dean more than any sedative could.
“Why don’t you want me to actually better myself?” Sam yelled.
“It’s the family business Sam, saving people-“
“Oh, don’t give me that stupid ‘saving people, hunting things’ spiel.” He interrupted.
“Fine, you don’t wanna be part of the family business that’s on you, but if you leave, don’t come back.”
“Dad!” Dean hollered, appalled.
“Stay out of this Dean; this is between me and your brother.”
Sam and John went back to yelling at each other and Dean started fiddling with the tape he made, trying to focus on that rather than listening to his family fighting.
In the midst of their fighting, Dean reached back and grabbed Sam’s bag from the floorboard of the backseat, shoving the tape he made in it and setting it back down.
Dean quickly turned around in his seat, looking out the window and hoping that Sam didn’t see the tears rolling down his cheeks.
Sam did though, and that’s what made him stop fighting with John.
He was hurting his brother enough and fighting with John was only going to make things worse.
Two weeks later, 5:00 PM.
Dean kept his eyes forward on the road as he drove Sam to the airport. John wouldn’t go, on the count of the fact that he and Sam had been fighting on and off for the last two weeks.
“Dean, will you please say something? Or at least put on some music? The silence is driving me insane.” Sam pleaded.
Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes forward on the road, mainly because if he looked over at his brother, he was going to breakdown and no matter how much he was against the decision of Sammy going to Stanford, he knew it was good for him. Get out of this life and never turn back.
“Dean,” Sam was on the verge of crying himself, but neither of the two were ever gonna let that show. Ego’s a helluva drug. “Please.”
Dean wanted to say so much to Sam. He wanted to tell him how proud of him he is, he wanted to ask if he was the reason he was leaving, he wanted to ask how he could possibly make him stay, but most of all he wanted to tell Sam to get the hell out of hunting and never turn back. He couldn’t though. The man with the most nerve out of all three of the Winchester boys couldn’t bring up enough nerve to tell his little brother how he felt.
“What do you want me to say Sam?” Dean questioned, blinking back tears but keeping his voice strong.
Sam looked out of the passenger side window, trying to wipe away the tears that had fallen without Dean seeing. Dean didn’t see because he was doing the same thing.
“You’re pissed; I get it, but please just say something.” Sam’s voice was begging. He didn’t want to leave his brother with him being pissed off.
Dean pulled into the airport parking lot, quickly finding a parking spot and shutting off the engine. Dean still kept his gaze forward, trying his hardest to will the tears back. When the tears were sufficiently hidden, Dean got out of the car and Sam followed, grabbing his stuff out of the backseat and walking over to his brother at the front of the car.
“Have fun at school Sammy,” Dean forced a smile at him.
“Dean-“
Dean cut him off by pulling him into a tight hug, Sam hugging back just as tightly. When they both pulled away, both of them were forcing smiles to hide the tears in their eyes.
“Got your plane ticket?” Dean questioned, still trying to take care of his little brother.
Sam bit his lip and nodded.
“And you got your money for a cab once you get there?”
Sam nodded again, not trusting his voice if he were to speak.
“Butterfly knife?”
Sam let out a light, humorless laugh and nodded.
“Well,” Dean looked at his watch, seeing that Sam’s plane was gonna take off soon. “Your plane is gonna take off soon and getting through security will take a little while.”
Sam nodded, looking down at the license plate of the Impala. Sam looked back at Dean, knowing that as soon as he started walking towards the airport he was gonna start bawling his eyes out.
“Thank you Dean,” Sam said, just above a whisper.
Dean shook his head, huffing out a laugh.
“I don’t know what you’re thanking me for Sammy.” Dean told him honestly.
“Giving me a childhood, taking care of me, supporting me, and just, well, everything.” Sam explained.
Dean shook his head.
“That’s my job. Take care of my pain in the ass little brother.” Dean chuckled weakly. “I should be thanking you.”
Sam furrowed his eyebrows, silently questioning what his older brother meant.
“You kept me ending it so many times, you don’t even know.” Dean embraced his little brother in a hug. “Thank you Sammy.”
Sam hugged his older brother back, hugging extra tight.
When the two brothers departed from their hug, they smiled at each other one last time, nodding their goodbyes and Sam started walking towards the entrance of the airport at the same time Dean walked and got back in the front seat of the car.
What they didn’t know was that they started crying at the exact same time. Sam because he was leaving the only person that he felt really cared for him and Dean because he was losing the only person that he felt truly understood him. Both because they were separated from the only person who they felt really loved them.
Two months later, 6:00 PM.
Two months later, things were relatively the same for both boys. Dean was back to hunting with his father and Sam was finally getting settled at school. Neither of the boys had picked up the phone to talk to one another, not because of pride, but because if either of them had called the other one, they both knew that Sam would end up leaving to come back to hunt, to be with his family. Neither of them wanted that.
Dean had thought about picking up the phone so many times. He wanted to tell Sam how proud of him he is, he wanted to tell him that he missed him so much, but most of all Dean wanted to ask when he could come and visit because it was killing him to be apart from his little brother. It was killing him because he raised Sam, Sam is his baby, not anyone else’s, and it was hard being without the boy he had gone from being around every damn day to not at all.
Sam had thought about it equally as much. He wanted to call and check in on Dean, to make sure he hasn’t done something stupid to get himself killed, to tell him that he misses him so much, and most of all he just wanted to call because he wanted Dean to tell him that he needs him to come back home and be with his family. Sam wanted a reason to leave school because he was completely miserable without his older brother, but he wouldn’t. Not unless Dean were to tell him to.
Done with classes for the week, Sam was in his single dorm room trying to think of what to do. He had surfed the internet until it had become boring, he was invited to a party but he doesn’t really know anybody so that was out of the picture, so there’s nothing to really do.
Sam suddenly struck a grin, thinking of something.
He has his fake ID, why not drink?
Sam went over to his duffle bag, of which he still hasn’t unpacked mainly because there isn’t much to unpack, and started ruffling through it, stopping when he found a cassette tape.
He immediately recognized Dean’s chicken scratch handwriting ‘Everything I Didn’t Say.’
Tears quickly formed and fell from his eyes; he thought Dean was mad at him for leaving, but why would he make this for him if he was?
Sam had picked up an old cassette player from a thrift store a few days back because before he had left he snagged one of Dean’s cassette tapes to play when things got bad.
Sam wiped away his tears and quickly found his fake ID. He set down the cassette tape on the player and left his dorm room, locking it behind him.
Sam made it to a liquor store down the road in less than ten minutes and within fifteen he was walking back. Ever since Sam’s got his growth spurt, a person carding him for things like beer wasn’t really a problem. He looked damn near thirty when he wanted to.
When he made it back to his dorm room, now fifty bucks shorter but a case of beer and a couple of things of fireball whiskey larger. Sam locked his door and set the alcohol down next to his bed, putting the cassette in the player and pressing play, immediately hearing distorted guitars and the like.
One hour, a case of beer and a half a bottle of whiskey later, Sam was sufficiently drunk and crying at classic rock like it was a sad slow pop ballad.
“He-he-he-he never wanted m-me to-to leave,” Sam hiccupped, his head hitting the wall behind him. He was sitting on the floor next to the cassette player still playing music. “He never wanted me to leave!” Sam screamed, throwing the cap to his whiskey across the room.
Sam tried to stand up but when that failed him he literally crawled across the room, whiskey in hand, and fished his cell phone out of his duffle bag full of what little stuff he had.
He sat back against the door; setting his whiskey down next to him and flipping open his phone, he tried to drunkenly dial his older brother. When he was finally able to, he put the phone up to his ear and laid his head back on the door.
“Sammy?” Dean answered, almost questioning the fact that his little brother was calling him.
“D-D-Dean,” Sam sniffled, stammering over his words.
“Sam? Is everything alright? What’s going on?” Dean asked, suddenly growing very concerned about his little brother.
“I wanna c-c-c-come home,” Sam hiccupped his way through his words, still crying very heavily.
Dean sighed, hearing the slur in his little brother’s words. What Dean had been avoiding is what Sam had succumbed to.
“Sammy, you’re drunk, you don’t mean that.” It pained Dean to say this, but he knew it was what’s best for his little brother.
“N-N-No, I-I found the-the-the tape. I,” Sam hiccupped again. “I miss you and I’m-I’m mis-sus-erable.”
Dean looked over at his passed out father and left the hotel room, starting to walk down to the ice machine down the hall, stopping when he got there.
“Sammy, listen to me okay? I need you to listen to me.”
“Okay, I’m l-listening.”
“I miss you so, so, so much, but you need to stay at Stanford.”
“W-W-Why do I n-need to stay?” Sam stammered.
“You’re there because you’re trying to better yourself, right?”
“Yuh-yeah,”
“Sammy,” Dean lowered his voice, not because he knew people could be listening, but because what he was about to say was hard. “I’m so proud of you, do you know that?”
“N-No, I, I, I thought you hated me for-for leaving.”
Dean’s eyes filled with tears at his little brother’s words. How could he think that he hates him?
“No, Sammy, I could never hate you. I’m so proud,” Dean’s voice faltered. “I’m so proud of you a-and I miss you so much that it hurts, I really do.” Dean wiped at his eyes, sliding down and sitting with his knees up. “But, I know that this is what’s best for you.”
“But, I-“
“You miss me, I know.” Dean’s voice lowered to a whisper. “I love you, Sammy.”
“I love you too, Dean.” Sam’s voice sounded a little soberer.
“Promise me something, okay little brother?”
“Okay,”
“Promise me that you’ll stay and work. I need you to be there, but more importantly, you need you to be there. You don’t want this life and I don’t blame you, not for a second.”
“But John-“
“Screw what he thinks, okay? Have you ever valued what he thought?”
“No,”
“Then why start now? Stay there and do good because I know you can.”
“Okay,”
“Okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll stay.”
“And Sammy,”
“Yeah, Dean?”
“Please don’t let it take this for you to call again.” Dean pleaded and Sam, albeit still pretty drunk, could hear that he needed him as much as he needed Dean.
“Okay Dean, the same goes for you. Make sure you call me, gotta make sure you aren’t getting yourself killed.”
Dean chuckled, as well as Sam.
“Got it Sammy,”