It's been quite some time since we departed from our usual stagnant stops. The detergent clean smell of the motel bed sheets and the sound of the fryer in sloppy restaurants still lingers on my tongue as if it was yesterday. I can't remember the last time we actually had a decent meal on our plates, even the scraps we do find here are way beyond our expectations. We barely even have time to think of food when all we do is run. Me, Dean Winchester is admitting to such lame ass speculations. Is that really what the world has made me become? Pathetic?
"Dean?" Sam whispered in a hushed voice as he closed the door behind him, the wood made soft creaks as he entered quietly. Dean stood up from his short stool on the ground and turned off the lantern slightly as his eyes remained fixated outside the window. The fog had begun to rise again in the blue lit atmosphere of the woods, the wind was obsolete and no foreign shadows appeared in the darkness. Taking a sigh of relief Dean slowly walked towards his stool, away from the aggrivating view, Sam walked towards him but instead of standing he crossed by him and placed his back on the wall behind Dean. "Any luck?" He asked Sam as he clasped his hands together.
"No, actually-" Sam answered instantly before he stopped midway "But, how did you?.. Know, exactly?". Dean pursed his lips and rised with a groan, he ran his hand grimly through his tangled hair as he turned towards his brother, clearly he was tired and frustrated from the anger growing in his throat. "How many frickin times should I tell you Sam? Do you like being scolded and monitored like a damn baby?".
"Dean, I know we were lacking supplies, I wanted to help out because I know how strained you have been over the last few days... And I know that its not safe..".
"Not SAFE?! Bah!" Dean laughed sarcastically as he held in an infuriating scream "Sam, I don't know where your head is but for the love of god the word 'safe' is an understatement here! Its been years since the world became like that,okay? It shouldn't be anything new to you for Christ's sake! You know the risks out there, its kill or be killed Sam! No one will let you live and you just... Pranced! Literally pranced out- there... I". Dean covered his eyes as he breathed heavily in his clammy hands, he felt so irresponsible and mentally retarded for constantly saying the same thing over and over again. Sam remained silent as he clenched his fists in the torn pockets of his dirt covered jacket, his long brown locks hid half of his face as he bit his lip unconsciously. "Why aren't you saying anything Sam?" Dean spoke as he stared at his brother firmly, Sam shuffled in his spot and suddenly gasped out a smile, his nervous ragged chuckles couldn't overcome the tears that began to well up in his tired eyes. Dean watched him, completely taken aback by the attitude Sam displayed over his older brother's scolding. "Excuse me? What the hell is that?" He asked as he sniffed and swallowed his rage for the time being.
"You do know that that's the longest sentence you've actually said to me this past week? hell maybe even in months...". Sam smiled grimly as a tear fell onto his dry lips, the pinkness in his cheeks was smothered with dust and a strange empty paleness had taken over his skin as he spoke softly. The small scars on his forehead and left eyelid seemed even more deeper in the dim lighting as he continued to speak "I know its been hard, I know that the time to fight back is over Dean. I swear I know, man" Sam rubbed his eyes with the end of his sleeve and a straight brown smudge appeared on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose "But sometimes I just wish you could... Crack one of your lame jokes, here and there you know? Be like my older brother again. I never realized how much I missed him until he was finally gone for good". The blurry shadows moved and danced in small slight movements in the clustered shack, Dean pushed the stool from underneath him and placed it to the side, he crunched his way to the cold ground with a dead expression in his eyes "I'm still me Sam, you don't need to worry about me going anywhere". Sam opened his mouth slightly before he closed it again, he pushed his body away from the wall and slowly walked towards the opening that lead to his dusty chambers "I'll see you tomorrow Dean. Goodnight" Sam whispered as he placed himself quietly on his mattress on the ground. Dean could hear him take his boots off and lie down, the creaks of the spring mattress echoeing immensely as Sam slept. Dean shuffled on the cold floor and blew out the light in the lantern, he shed his jacket from his bruised arms and folded it accurately and placed it under his head. The small pebbles and sharp rocks poked into his skin and his ribs as he shuffled to and fro in order to gain a somewhat comfortable position to lie in. Dean sighed as he created a hole by his constant shuffling, his bones began to crack and they felt twisted as he breathed comfortably but cautiously. Half of the time his eyes remained immobile; he couldn't blink nor could the stinging bother him, his frozen form lied lifeless on the ground as he tried to sleep.
"I'm still me Sammy. I'm still him".
The faint glow from the window spread over Dean's worn out eyes indicating that the sun was somewhere out there in the empty sky. Was there even a sun to look at anymore? He slowly opened his eyes and groaned, slow and still warm in his mouth Dean let out a yawn. He continued to stare out of the smudgy glass window and ponder, when was the last time he felt the warmth of the sun on his skin?
Ever since the 'collapse', there was no trace of any world left beyond the one they walked upon, six years ago Dean had fully understood what a true tragedy looked like if it were made into a scene, and he gradually came to terms with the fact that all of the heroes he once dreamed to become were all buried along with him, not even their bones existed in the rotting earth below. An ache appeared in his chest as he pushed himself upwards, rubbing his hand on his back and his waist as he let out a tired sigh "Sammy? What do we have left to eat?" Dean scratched his head and picked himself up from the ground "Sam?"
Dean stared in dismay towards Sam's room, the word No constantly resonated in his head as he stumbled in an achingly slow fashion. He peered into the grey room and was embraced by a cold desolated atmosphere, Dean could feel his heart stopping the moment he saw the empty bed. But did his eyes deceive him? Was it really empty?.
His shaky fingers slid onto the edges of the crumpled paper, he flipped it to the other side and read the clean swirls and curves.
I promise, I'll fix this.