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"Masquerading As A Man of Reason"
Title: Masquerading As A Man Of Reason - Part One
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Dean,Sam (gen)
Words: 596
Disclaimer:, Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: Set after 2.01
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Dean finally notices on a Wednesday.
They’ve just been told that the Palm Motel is full up and Dean is thinking that it’s going to be murder on his shoulder to sleep in the car again, when the desk clerk blinks, puts a hand to his head and then says, “No, wait. We have one room left.”
Dean was already turning towards the door, but turns back. “Sorry?”
“Yeah, we usually keep it set aside for family, but you guys look beat. You can have it.” Dean looks down at himself, and then at Sam, who has his steady gaze on the desk clerk. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean notes that Sam keeps his own eyes on the guy right up until the room keys are in Dean’s hand and then his gaze drops and skips away.
The desk clerk seems to slump and gives them a dismissive wave as he totters into the room behind his desk and closes the door.
Dean looks back to Sam, but his younger brother is already shouldering through the motel office door and out into the parking lot.
Dean thinks Oh.
000
Dean doesn’t know whether it’s some weird quirk of fate that lands them only an hour outside Lawrence, but Winchesters don’t believe in coincidence so he heads out to see Missouri once he convinces Sam he needs some downtime alone. He hates lying to Sam and not just because he thinks Sam can tell.
There’s a little girl with scabbed knees sitting on Missouri’s porch steps when Dean pulls the Impala up to the curb. He’s handed a key to her house and told not to go anywhere, that Missouri will be back later in the day. The last thing he wants is time to sit and stew but he doesn’t see much of a choice.
The little girl waves as she disappears into the blue house next door and Dean takes her spot on the porch, rubbing the key between his fingers. He can’t shake the sensation that he is accelerating towards something, maybe something he isn’t quite ready for yet.
His phone rings and Dean jumps and then huffs a laugh at himself. He’s sitting on tenterhooks and he doesn’t even know of there’s anything wrong yet. He flips open the phone and the display says it’s Sam calling.
He closes the phone with a sigh.
When it stops ringing, he dials his Father’s number. He listens to the gravely voice, the same old voicemail message and now he’s gone, never to change. He’s not sure how far in advance his Father paid the bill and is just waiting for the day when he gets the disconnected message instead. Today isn’t that day and Dean listens to the message twice more before closing the phone and pressing it to his forehead.
It’s taken him a while to get past the burning guilt and anger that his Father’s death caused and allow him to simply miss his dad. He desperately wants someone to talk to about how worried he is about Sam, how he’s afraid most days that he’ll let him down or be a second too slow and Sammy will pay the price. He’s not sure when they switched roles, but Sam has become the more ceaseless hunter, always scanning the newspapers for their next hunts, quoting their Father’s journal like gospel.
Dean never wanted Sam to leave, but he didn’t want that either.
He’s dozing sitting up when he feels a hand squeeze his shoulder gently.
“Oh honey,” Missouri sighs, her tone kind.
Part Two
By:
kellifer_ficFandom: SPN
Rating: PG (language/adult themes)
Category: Dean,Sam (gen)
Words: 596
Disclaimer:, Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: Set after 2.01
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Dean finally notices on a Wednesday.
They’ve just been told that the Palm Motel is full up and Dean is thinking that it’s going to be murder on his shoulder to sleep in the car again, when the desk clerk blinks, puts a hand to his head and then says, “No, wait. We have one room left.”
Dean was already turning towards the door, but turns back. “Sorry?”
“Yeah, we usually keep it set aside for family, but you guys look beat. You can have it.” Dean looks down at himself, and then at Sam, who has his steady gaze on the desk clerk. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean notes that Sam keeps his own eyes on the guy right up until the room keys are in Dean’s hand and then his gaze drops and skips away.
The desk clerk seems to slump and gives them a dismissive wave as he totters into the room behind his desk and closes the door.
Dean looks back to Sam, but his younger brother is already shouldering through the motel office door and out into the parking lot.
Dean thinks Oh.
Dean doesn’t know whether it’s some weird quirk of fate that lands them only an hour outside Lawrence, but Winchesters don’t believe in coincidence so he heads out to see Missouri once he convinces Sam he needs some downtime alone. He hates lying to Sam and not just because he thinks Sam can tell.
There’s a little girl with scabbed knees sitting on Missouri’s porch steps when Dean pulls the Impala up to the curb. He’s handed a key to her house and told not to go anywhere, that Missouri will be back later in the day. The last thing he wants is time to sit and stew but he doesn’t see much of a choice.
The little girl waves as she disappears into the blue house next door and Dean takes her spot on the porch, rubbing the key between his fingers. He can’t shake the sensation that he is accelerating towards something, maybe something he isn’t quite ready for yet.
His phone rings and Dean jumps and then huffs a laugh at himself. He’s sitting on tenterhooks and he doesn’t even know of there’s anything wrong yet. He flips open the phone and the display says it’s Sam calling.
He closes the phone with a sigh.
When it stops ringing, he dials his Father’s number. He listens to the gravely voice, the same old voicemail message and now he’s gone, never to change. He’s not sure how far in advance his Father paid the bill and is just waiting for the day when he gets the disconnected message instead. Today isn’t that day and Dean listens to the message twice more before closing the phone and pressing it to his forehead.
It’s taken him a while to get past the burning guilt and anger that his Father’s death caused and allow him to simply miss his dad. He desperately wants someone to talk to about how worried he is about Sam, how he’s afraid most days that he’ll let him down or be a second too slow and Sammy will pay the price. He’s not sure when they switched roles, but Sam has become the more ceaseless hunter, always scanning the newspapers for their next hunts, quoting their Father’s journal like gospel.
Dean never wanted Sam to leave, but he didn’t want that either.
He’s dozing sitting up when he feels a hand squeeze his shoulder gently.
“Oh honey,” Missouri sighs, her tone kind.
Part Two