There Was A Time -DeanXCas

Chapter 4 - Scary Situations

Sam wasn't speaking to him. Dean couldn't say he was surprised. The whole ride back to the apartment, Sam refused to say a word. And when they got back, he very pointedly marched into the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. When Jess came in over two hours later, she frowned at finding Dean alone on the couch, nursing a beer and holding an icepack to his shoulder. Dean just waved her off, letting her go roust Sam out to find out what was going on.

The next week was really weird; he made it a point to be out of the apartment as much as possible, not wanting to be around to see the precise moment when Sam decided that he'd been wrong to invite Dean to the wedding. The moment when Sam decided that he didn't actually want a supernatural omega for a brother, thanks. Dean squeezed his eyes shut as his chest clenched painfully at the thought. Circumstances had been fortunate to let him avoid this conversation with John, but it seemed he wouldn't be so lucky with Sam.

Unless he decided to leave now and spare them all the agony. He'd thought about it several times during the past few days, but he couldn't bring himself to actually do it. Not that it would be hard - all he'd have to do was drive away, toss his phone, and forbid Bobby from ever telling Sam how to get a hold of him. But there was a very tiny flicker of hope in the back of his head that he couldn't squash. A hope that maybe, just maybe, Sam would somehow come around.

Dean sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead against the steering wheel. He winced when his head gave a throb of pain at the change in position. To top the whole thing off, he'd had a hell of a headache ever since that hunt. Sometimes all he could hear was static, but it seemed to be coming from inside his head. Like somehow, temporarily, his mental train of thought had tuned into the wrong radio station. It never lasted long, but it was piercingly loud and frigging annoying and always made the headache worse.

Unfortunately, caffeine and Tylenol - both of which he'd tried in spades - didn't seem to have much of an effect, and he didn't have any of the stronger painkillers they normally kept the first aid kit stocked with. He was chalking the whole thing up to a lack of sleep, because he hadn't gotten more than a handful of hours since Sam stopped talking to him. It was hard to sleep when you kept waking up from nightmares about your only family kicking you out. But that was the other reason he was a little hesitant to leave: a road trip didn't exactly sound like a smart idea when, once or twice, the pain had gotten so bad it was blinding.

He jumped when someone knocked at the window of the Impala and jerked his head up, staring at the sight of Jess. She was standing on the sidewalk holding a cardboard take-out tray with two cups of coffee on it. Dean briefly entertained the idea of just driving away, but the look on her face told him that probably wouldn't be a wise idea. He wasn't completely convinced that she wouldn't hunt him down and make him pay for it. Cautiously, he rolled down the windows, wondering if he was about to end up with a lapful of coffee.

"Sam's an idiot," Jess said as soon as the glass was down. "So are you. It must run in the family. Come on, we're going for a walk."

"I'm not -"

"I wasn't asking."

Right then. Dean rolled up the glass and got out, locking the car and pretending like the sun's brightness wasn't making his head ten times worse. His reward was a cup of hot coffee, thrust into his hands with such force that he didn't dare try to give it back. He took a cautious sip, relieved when he tasted coffee with just a hint of sugar and not one of the girly drinks that Sam had apparently become obsessed with.

"So," Jess said, and her voice was considerably kinder now. "Sam told me what happened."

Dean stopped short. "Oh god, he didn't - look, if Sam wants me to leave, that's fine. But the least he could do is tell me to my face -"