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ohsam2010-11-07 02:55 pm
gooferdusty.livejournal.com) wrote in ohsam2010-11-07 02:55 pm
Entry tags:
This is no place like home.2/?
Title: This is no place like home.
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gooferdusty
Pairing/ Characters: Sam, Dean.(This is gen, for now but will become slash i think!)
Rating: This is PG for now, but will probably end up nc-17!
Warnings: None really, apart from it could be spoilery for season 6.
Disclaimer: Not making a penny profit, don't own the boys, no hurt intended, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Summary: There are things that Dean knows are a given. Since his brother's return he isn't so sure anymore. The one place that's home suddenly isn't.
A/N: This is something that my muse leapt on me what with all the season 6 angst flying around. I don't think its too spoilery, but then ive been wrong before! Anyway i figured its about time i took the bull by the horns and attempted to post one of my fics here (more to come with this soon) Not really used to posting on lj so if it all goes belly up you have been warned!
When the silence in the car became deafening Dean pulled in at the first motel he saw. It was still a little early to be stopping for the night but he had to get out of that damn car and away from the thing wearing his brother’s face. Dean was strung too tight, worn too thin. The effort of keeping his mask from slipping was so god damn tiring. He was sick of trying to act as if everything was ok, it was exhausting. As soon as Dean returned from the office with the keys to their room he dumped their duffels on one of the beds and informed ‘Sam’ he was going for a drink. It was a statement not an invitation and he didn’t wait for a reply, and if there was one it was swallowed by the door slamming behind him.
The bar was dimly lit, classic rock on the jukebox and no shortage of willing pretty things to help take the edge off if that’s what you were looking for. It was the kind of place Dean usually felt at home in, his natural hunting ground. Normally by now Dean would have separated his prey from the herd, ready to move in for the kill armed with a flash of green eyes and an easy smile. Dean brought the glass of whiskey to his lips and threw it back in one, feeling the warm burn in his throat. Sighing he placed the glass back on the bar and ordered another rubbing at his tired eyes. It wasn’t easy company and a willing body he was looking for tonight. Dean knew what he needed; he just had no idea how to get it. But until he figured out what the thing back at the motel was and what it had done to his brother a little time in the company of Johnnie Walker wouldn’t hurt.
Around 1 am, several whiskies and one fight later Dean finally left the bar and began walking back towards the motel. It would take around 40 minutes to make the walk back to the motel; Dean just hoped ‘Sam’ would be asleep when he arrived. He didn’t think he could take another night of forced conversation, of that thing pretending to be Sam, and Dean pretending to care. Yeah, if he was lucky ‘Sam’ would be asleep and Dean could have a few blessed hours of peace before the whole charade started all over again tomorrow.
Dean had never been lucky. Why would that change now?
Dean’s heart sank as he saw the light coming from their room obviously ‘Sam’ was still awake. Dean was steeling himself to open the door and face another night of awkward silences and stilted conversation when he heard it. The sound of crying was coming from around the side of the building, soft and unmistakable. Dean followed the sound until he turned the corner of the building and found the source. A Woman was sitting on the ground her back resting against the building. Her left leg was pulled up and her arm was draped across it, a cigarette hanging from her fingers. She startled when she heard Dean approaching and sprung to her feet turning her tear streaked face to look at him.
“Hey, its ok i didn’t mean to scare you.” Dean said holding his hands up in a 'i mean you no harm' gesture.
In the half light coming from the motels neon sign Dean recognised her as the woman who had been working in the motel office earlier.
The woman studied Dean for a moment before throwing her cigarette to the floor and grinding it under her foot. “Room 18” she said “You booked in earlier.”
Dean offered out his hand “Paul” he said remembering the name on the fake credit card he had used to pay for the room.
The woman shook the offered hand. “Angela” she said in return.
Brushing her dark hair from her eyes she straightened her clothing “Is there something you need? My husband is behind the desk he will see to whatever you need.”
“No, no that’s ok i don’t need anything, i was just going back to my room when i heard you, you sounded pretty upset.” “Is everything ok?”
Angela gave Dean a watery smile before answering him. “Honestly, i don’t know anymore.”
Dean was normally not to be found in the same zip code as an emotional conversation but it was either talk to Angela or go back to his room and spend time with ‘Sam’. Just the thought of being in the same room as his ‘brother’ made his skin crawl, so he decided to talk to her for a while, at least until ‘Sam’ was asleep. And besides, she really did look like she needed to talk to someone.
Dean motioned to the small wooden bench a few feet away before walking over and sitting down, Angela following suit. Dean glanced over at the young woman noticing a silent tear spilling over her cheek.
“You sure you’re ok? Do you want me to get your husband?” Dean asked.
Suddenly Angela twisted in her seat grabbing hold of Dean’s arm. “NO!” She yelled. “Please, i don’t want my him to see me like this.”
Dean looked the distressed woman in the face trying to keep his temper in check. “Why not? is he the reason you’re crying? Did he hurt you?” Dean growled.
Angela released Dean’s arm and wiped her eyes. “No, it’s nothing like that, Jack would never hurt me.” “Things are just really difficult at the moment.”
Dean reached into his jacket pocket for his hip flask offering Angela a drink before taking a long pull himself. “In what way? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Angela shook her head no at the offered drink “Jack, is a marine, was a marine” she corrected herself. “He came home from Afghanistan 6 months ago on medical leave.” Angela sighed, lighting a new cigarette. “The vehicle his 2 buddies and him were travelling in was hit by a roadside bomb, Jack was pretty badly burnt, but it was worse for his friends. Tom was killed instantly; Mickey made it home, minus his legs.” “Three weeks ago he put a bullet through his brain, it was his funeral yesterday.”
“That’s gotta be rough.” Dean said taking another pull from his hip flask.
“Yeah.” “But you know what the worst part is?” “It’s the way people look at me, i feel like i have to paste on this fake smile and pretend like nothings changed.” “That i should be grateful that Jack came home, and i am, truly i am, it’s just sometimes it feels like he never really came back at all.” “He doesn’t talk to me like he used to, he tries so hard to act the way he thinks i want him to.” “I don’t know how to talk to him anymore, it’s as if he’s empty, you know?” “ It’s like living with a stranger, he looks like Jack on the surface but inside there’s nothing left of the man i love.” Angela ran her hand through her hair and let out a steadying breath. “It’s all such a god damn mess.”
Dean rested a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “I’m not much good at finding the right words, but for what it’s worth i’m sorry and i hope everything works out.” Dean looked up at the night sky and shook his head. “Boy, if my brother were here he would know what to say, he’s so much better at this kind of thing than me, well he used to be anyhow.” Dean finished with a rueful smile.
Dean looked at his watch, it was 3 am surely ‘Sam’ would be asleep by now. “I really gotta go, i’m sorry, but my brother and i have to be on the road early tomorrow, will you be alright?”
Angela stood up and dusted herself off “What choice do i have?” she replied. “I won’t give up on him, he’s all i have.” Turning she bid Dean good night and walked back towards the office wiping her eyes and tidying her hair as she went.
Dean watched her walk away before turning and heading back to his room. He thought about some of the things Angela had said. They could have been talking about him and Sam not Angela and her husband, except that Sam wasn't suffering from some form of PTSD he really wasn't Sam anymore and no one could tell Dean any different.
Reaching the room the first thing Dean noticed was that the light was still on. Unlocking the door the second thing he noticed was that 'Sam' was gone....
previous chapter.
chapter 3.
Author:
gooferdusty Pairing/ Characters: Sam, Dean.(This is gen, for now but will become slash i think!)
Rating: This is PG for now, but will probably end up nc-17!
Warnings: None really, apart from it could be spoilery for season 6.
Disclaimer: Not making a penny profit, don't own the boys, no hurt intended, yadda, yadda, yadda.
Summary: There are things that Dean knows are a given. Since his brother's return he isn't so sure anymore. The one place that's home suddenly isn't.
A/N: This is something that my muse leapt on me what with all the season 6 angst flying around. I don't think its too spoilery, but then ive been wrong before! Anyway i figured its about time i took the bull by the horns and attempted to post one of my fics here (more to come with this soon) Not really used to posting on lj so if it all goes belly up you have been warned!
When the silence in the car became deafening Dean pulled in at the first motel he saw. It was still a little early to be stopping for the night but he had to get out of that damn car and away from the thing wearing his brother’s face. Dean was strung too tight, worn too thin. The effort of keeping his mask from slipping was so god damn tiring. He was sick of trying to act as if everything was ok, it was exhausting. As soon as Dean returned from the office with the keys to their room he dumped their duffels on one of the beds and informed ‘Sam’ he was going for a drink. It was a statement not an invitation and he didn’t wait for a reply, and if there was one it was swallowed by the door slamming behind him.
The bar was dimly lit, classic rock on the jukebox and no shortage of willing pretty things to help take the edge off if that’s what you were looking for. It was the kind of place Dean usually felt at home in, his natural hunting ground. Normally by now Dean would have separated his prey from the herd, ready to move in for the kill armed with a flash of green eyes and an easy smile. Dean brought the glass of whiskey to his lips and threw it back in one, feeling the warm burn in his throat. Sighing he placed the glass back on the bar and ordered another rubbing at his tired eyes. It wasn’t easy company and a willing body he was looking for tonight. Dean knew what he needed; he just had no idea how to get it. But until he figured out what the thing back at the motel was and what it had done to his brother a little time in the company of Johnnie Walker wouldn’t hurt.
Around 1 am, several whiskies and one fight later Dean finally left the bar and began walking back towards the motel. It would take around 40 minutes to make the walk back to the motel; Dean just hoped ‘Sam’ would be asleep when he arrived. He didn’t think he could take another night of forced conversation, of that thing pretending to be Sam, and Dean pretending to care. Yeah, if he was lucky ‘Sam’ would be asleep and Dean could have a few blessed hours of peace before the whole charade started all over again tomorrow.
Dean had never been lucky. Why would that change now?
Dean’s heart sank as he saw the light coming from their room obviously ‘Sam’ was still awake. Dean was steeling himself to open the door and face another night of awkward silences and stilted conversation when he heard it. The sound of crying was coming from around the side of the building, soft and unmistakable. Dean followed the sound until he turned the corner of the building and found the source. A Woman was sitting on the ground her back resting against the building. Her left leg was pulled up and her arm was draped across it, a cigarette hanging from her fingers. She startled when she heard Dean approaching and sprung to her feet turning her tear streaked face to look at him.
“Hey, its ok i didn’t mean to scare you.” Dean said holding his hands up in a 'i mean you no harm' gesture.
In the half light coming from the motels neon sign Dean recognised her as the woman who had been working in the motel office earlier.
The woman studied Dean for a moment before throwing her cigarette to the floor and grinding it under her foot. “Room 18” she said “You booked in earlier.”
Dean offered out his hand “Paul” he said remembering the name on the fake credit card he had used to pay for the room.
The woman shook the offered hand. “Angela” she said in return.
Brushing her dark hair from her eyes she straightened her clothing “Is there something you need? My husband is behind the desk he will see to whatever you need.”
“No, no that’s ok i don’t need anything, i was just going back to my room when i heard you, you sounded pretty upset.” “Is everything ok?”
Angela gave Dean a watery smile before answering him. “Honestly, i don’t know anymore.”
Dean was normally not to be found in the same zip code as an emotional conversation but it was either talk to Angela or go back to his room and spend time with ‘Sam’. Just the thought of being in the same room as his ‘brother’ made his skin crawl, so he decided to talk to her for a while, at least until ‘Sam’ was asleep. And besides, she really did look like she needed to talk to someone.
Dean motioned to the small wooden bench a few feet away before walking over and sitting down, Angela following suit. Dean glanced over at the young woman noticing a silent tear spilling over her cheek.
“You sure you’re ok? Do you want me to get your husband?” Dean asked.
Suddenly Angela twisted in her seat grabbing hold of Dean’s arm. “NO!” She yelled. “Please, i don’t want my him to see me like this.”
Dean looked the distressed woman in the face trying to keep his temper in check. “Why not? is he the reason you’re crying? Did he hurt you?” Dean growled.
Angela released Dean’s arm and wiped her eyes. “No, it’s nothing like that, Jack would never hurt me.” “Things are just really difficult at the moment.”
Dean reached into his jacket pocket for his hip flask offering Angela a drink before taking a long pull himself. “In what way? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Angela shook her head no at the offered drink “Jack, is a marine, was a marine” she corrected herself. “He came home from Afghanistan 6 months ago on medical leave.” Angela sighed, lighting a new cigarette. “The vehicle his 2 buddies and him were travelling in was hit by a roadside bomb, Jack was pretty badly burnt, but it was worse for his friends. Tom was killed instantly; Mickey made it home, minus his legs.” “Three weeks ago he put a bullet through his brain, it was his funeral yesterday.”
“That’s gotta be rough.” Dean said taking another pull from his hip flask.
“Yeah.” “But you know what the worst part is?” “It’s the way people look at me, i feel like i have to paste on this fake smile and pretend like nothings changed.” “That i should be grateful that Jack came home, and i am, truly i am, it’s just sometimes it feels like he never really came back at all.” “He doesn’t talk to me like he used to, he tries so hard to act the way he thinks i want him to.” “I don’t know how to talk to him anymore, it’s as if he’s empty, you know?” “ It’s like living with a stranger, he looks like Jack on the surface but inside there’s nothing left of the man i love.” Angela ran her hand through her hair and let out a steadying breath. “It’s all such a god damn mess.”
Dean rested a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “I’m not much good at finding the right words, but for what it’s worth i’m sorry and i hope everything works out.” Dean looked up at the night sky and shook his head. “Boy, if my brother were here he would know what to say, he’s so much better at this kind of thing than me, well he used to be anyhow.” Dean finished with a rueful smile.
Dean looked at his watch, it was 3 am surely ‘Sam’ would be asleep by now. “I really gotta go, i’m sorry, but my brother and i have to be on the road early tomorrow, will you be alright?”
Angela stood up and dusted herself off “What choice do i have?” she replied. “I won’t give up on him, he’s all i have.” Turning she bid Dean good night and walked back towards the office wiping her eyes and tidying her hair as she went.
Dean watched her walk away before turning and heading back to his room. He thought about some of the things Angela had said. They could have been talking about him and Sam not Angela and her husband, except that Sam wasn't suffering from some form of PTSD he really wasn't Sam anymore and no one could tell Dean any different.
Reaching the room the first thing Dean noticed was that the light was still on. Unlocking the door the second thing he noticed was that 'Sam' was gone....
previous chapter.
chapter 3.
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