Title: So There 
Author: scy
Feedback: scynneh@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of it.
Fandom: Supernatural 
Pairing: None, gen
Spoilers: Devil's Trap 
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam thought he knew what he was supposed to do.  
Author's Notes: This may actually be the beginning of a longer piece, but for the moment this is how it stands, and it felt right to put it out as it is. Later modifications may apply.
July 2006

Sam had lost his family once; shucked them off like dirty laundry that he could kick under the bed and forget about because he thought he didn't need them. The second time had been sudden; reconnection with everything about his father and brother that he'd forgotten he both loved and hated, and then before he was quite sure what it meant, a screech of metal and the concussive force of a speeding semi-truck and a demon he'd failed to destroy had stolen it away. 

He thought he'd prepared himself for every outcome and known what his part would be. One of the things he did well was weigh cost to benefit rations. In this instance though, his calculations had been computed without several important variables, namely loyalty and the lengths to which a man would go in the pursuit of vengeance. He'd assumed he could carry through as far as need be, but it turned out that there were limits to his need for revenge, and they could be filled by a plea from the one person who only asked when there was no other way.

But no matter his reason, the demon that had killed their mother had taken her husband despite all he'd done to defeat it. 

Whatever lesson had been intended, Sam accepted part of it as the truth. His brother was the only one able to keep the peace between the Winchesters and it was plain for any and all to see. That Dean seemed unable to understand his own worth troubled Sam for reasons he was uncomfortable examining, ones not shared with his brother.

Dean had to shoulder a grief both familiar and immense, he didn't have the space to take Sam's confusion as well. So he kept it back and let loss and swiftly vanishing alternatives war and never gave it away. He owed Dean enough room to try and find his equilibrium before he found a solution that would bring them what they wanted, if there was such a thing anymore.

 To that end, he kept his distance from the sort of emotional disclosures that Jess would have counseled him to force. Whatever Dean kept hidden, the core of hardness that had helped him when his life changed some twenty years ago would shore him up again, and where Sam hadn't helped, he'd maintain that separation and hope that Dean would find his way again.  

If Sam expected Dean to acknowledge what he was trying to do he would have been disappointed; Dean didn't give anything away in great gestures that could be tallied and reflected over, he was happier making do and keeping things on an even keel. Sam hated how Dean was so good at it that he didn't notice until afterwards. It always felt like Dean was telling him something he didn't want to accept and couldn't bring himself to hear. He had closed his ears ever since his brother's words had been reduced to a plea and the gurgle of blood in his throat. No matter how fast Sam talked or how loud the machines sounded in his ears late at night, he couldn't hear anything but his brother dying because he'd put himself in front of Sam as best he could.

He couldn't get back what they'd lost, didn't know what book to look up PTSD as it applied to kids raised to look in the dark and scare it away with salt and shotgun, and if he had, none of it would have been applicable. If he really wanted to help Dean, he had to figure out what he would appreciate and more importantly, be ready to accept. 

-end