Born Under a Bad Sign // Supernatural

seven

Born Under a Bad Sign: seven

Three days ago

They thought he was out, but he wasn't. Sam was very much present in the motel room. Listening to Dean and Castiel talk quietly at the table, through the door of the bathroom. He had gone in there around two hours ago and he guessed they just forgot about him. Dean tended to forget about him a lot more these days.

"He's weird Dean, you know that." Castiel was saying, "And you know he needs help. Professional help."

"He's my brother Cas, there's nothing wrong with him!" Dean's voice was soft and scratchy, strangely weak and feeble. Was he crying? Sam frowned, his brother wasn't weak, never. He didn't cry and he didn't back down.

"He takes lives without blinking, he doesn't understand fear or pain. I've seen the way he looks at us, he doesn't know love either. Has he ever smiled? Even once? Does he even know how?" Castiel's voice got louder and louder, Sam wished he would shut up or that Sam could make him shut up. To remove him from their lives and let them return to how it was before, it was so much better then, without Castiel, why couldn't Dean see that?

"Cas." Dean cried, Sam hears movement then silence for a very long time. Such a long time that he thinks that maybe Dean has killed Cas at last but then the wretched man speaks again.

"You could be happier without him. He would be happier someplace else."

"I can't." Dean said, his voice so quiet and weak. Sam curled his lip at the sound, he brother wasn't weak; he can't be. His father was weak, a coward and Sam knew that Dean was everything that John never was. So Dean couldn't be weak, he couldn't be a coward because then he might try to kill Sam too.

Dean lay still in a bed of rough cotton blankets and wires, the room was stark white and smelling foul. Sam sat beside his brother, looking at his blank face and closed eyelids wondering if he would die. It was John's fault that his eldest son lay like this now, he had found the gang leader who killed his wife all those years ago.

Only he'd been faster than John, and Dean had paid the price.

"Why do you sit there? He's dead,boy." John stood at the doorway, looking at his son with very little emotion.

"He's asleep." Sam replied simply, not bothering to turn to his father but keeping his eyes on his brother.

"He's dead, we're leaving. The bill is too much." John turned, he hovered in the doorway, waiting. Sam looked back at Dean, those green eyes had peeled open, staring at him. Dean nodded but Sam ignored him, he didn't understand why his father wanted to leave Dean but he knew that he didn't.

"No." Sam whispered, "No." he said louder. John stared at him bewildered, and then he's reaching for his coat pocket, pulling something from within it.

A shot. Loud and clear, the hallways was filled with screams after it was fired. John bled red from his mouth and then he was falling, Sam's hand shook violently but he gripped the gun tight. John's wallet loose in his grasp.

A cold feeling grew over Sam as he realises something; Dean had never been weak before they'd met Castiel. He's never wanted to get rid of Sam before...Sam shrinks into himself as the truth circles around him, get rid of him. Dean was going to kill him, murder, Sam flinched. He took so many lives without a thought but losing his own? He didn't care about that, losing it to his brother though when they had been so comfortable together? That was something he couldn't let happen.

Dean was choosing Castiel over Sam, he could see that now. So maybe...Sam could have to get rid of Castiel instead.