The Tear In Our Hearts

Chapter 4

Sam POV

The frigid winter breeze ghosts any uncovered skin, sending chills up my spine. Despite this I feel ecstatic to be rid of the stuffy air the hospital supplied me with, and in return take a deep breath just to amplify my sense of freedom. The cold air shoots up my nose like fiery arrows, and my intake turns into a series of coughs accompanied by black dots swimming before me. One step at a time, Sam, Jesus.

Dad is still inside filling out the release papers as Dean and I begin to make our way to the Impala which is parked on the far end of the sizable parking lot. A hard though gentle hand rests on my shoulder from behind, and I jump a little before turning and finding Dean by my side. He's grinning at me like I'm an old dog who nearly got put down, but made a miraculous recovery. I can't help but feel uncomfortable under his gaze, and his expression falters.

"What's wrong, Sammy?" he asks concernedly, dropping his hand from my shoulder and stuffing it in his front pants pocket like the other. I cast my eyes away in shame for making a 'supposed to be good, Hallmark' moment into an 'awkward reality check' moment. It disgusts me that I can never allow things to be nice for a delectable amount of time. Something always begins to bother me and then 'poof', thanks a lot for pointing that out, Sam. Fucking buzz kill. 

"Oh, uh...n-nothing. I just wish I could feel this free all the time." Holy shit did I really just say that out loud??! Nice job, now I've really done it. Dean looks kind of taken aback but says nothing, which also begins to really get under my skin out of a strangled surge of curiosity. I decide to apologize whether he agrees with me or not.

"I didn't mean to say it like that but..."

fuck this

"...well, I did mean it. Dean I'm tired of what we do, I just wish we could lead a normal life and then maybe none of this would've happened and-" I'm cut off by Dean whom holds a rather annoyed and disgruntled expression. His hands are slightly clenched and a nerve in his jaw pulses angrily like a bomb ticking.

"Sam - just stop, OK. I get what you're trying to say. I know. I know you don't love what we do and the way we have to live to do it, but...what Dad does for us, and what we do for people - it's the right thing. Sam, we save people. What more in life could you want than the gratitude you receive after saving someone's life?! You don't learn how to do that shit in school, that's for sure. So shut up and let me now when you've gotten your head out of your ass, OK?" he sneers cynically, pushing past me as we near the Impala. I sigh heavily and follow slowly, keeping my distance. I've seen my brother when he's truly pissed, and although he didn't argue as much as I figured he would, he was still obviously not meant to be further tested.

Eventually Dad shows up, a tired grin soon being replaced with a frown when he notices Dean pouting at the front passenger door. He rolls his eyes and I can see him working in his head that I must've been the source of my brother's sour mood, but he says nothing as he manually unlocks the door and we all pile in. A stiff, stale silence swarms the air around us, and with it being such a small space I nearly roll down the window in an effort to escape its intensity. It's going to be a long ride.

----------*few days later*------------

"That is one huge ass ball of string." I mutter to myself as I sit on the trunk of the Impala, waiting for Dean and Dad to get back from doing their business in the nearby "Corner Bar and Grill". This isn't the first time I've seen it, but damn it feels like it just gets bigger every time. Or perhaps I'm shrinking...either way.

"Hey, dick face! Yeah, you with the shitty hair cut!!" I bristle at the ill-mannered comments being thrown at me from across the road. I decide not to turn and look, which would simply mean lowering me to their slanderous ways, so I remain staring up at the Largest Ball of Twine. A few moments later though, I feel a tap on my shoulder and when I turn to look the person grabs the collar of my shirt and practically yanks me off the trunk.