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Caged	By : Lily1186 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 11418 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Caged

Disclaimer: No, sadly I do not own anything Supernatural related. Sometimes the world is truly cruel.

Pairings: Sam/Dean, Wincest folks. If you don�t like, then don�t read. Rated for language in this chapter.

Summary: Dean begins to have regrets. Things are said that can�t be taken back. DeanAngst. SamAngst.

Author�s note: Alright this was only supposed to be a one-shot so you can�t really blame me if this ends up sucking extremely bad. But I was just so happy that people finally liked one of my stories so here you go. It�s my first shot at real angst too so be nice. Enjoy, and remember, no flames. You�ve read the warnings so heed them...

Oh yeah, and the �( )� marks mean thought. Just in case nobody knew.

Chapter 2- Emptiness

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Dean had been staring at the ceiling for two straight hours now and he still hadn�t figured out what he was going to do.

The one thing that he was absolutely sure of was that the other night had been a mistake. It didn�t matter that it had been the best moment of his entire life, it had to be stopped before it went any further.

He sighed loudly into the dark motel room and rubbed at his eyes. He had been driving for 12 straight hours when Sam had suggested that they stop for the night. Dean had agreed but only because they didn�t really have anyplace to be at the moment.

So, they had rented this crappy motel room for $20 and Dean had gone straight to bed. Of course he hadn�t actually slept at all since they had arrived. Sam on the other hand was asleep in the bed next to him and seemed to be sleeping soundly for once.

�Thank God for small favors.�

It had been two nights and ten hours since Dean and Sam had finally merged and Dean hadn�t really spoken to Sam since. It wasn�t that Dean was mad or even regretful, hell he would love to spend the rest of his life with his brother, but he knew now that it wasn�t an option. Sam was too fragile. For Dean to have taken advantage of him just because he was feeling weak and angry...it was no excuse. �Damn it Sammy, I�m sorry. I never think about shit before I act. Now what the hell am I going to do?�

Dean rolled over restlessly and stared at Sam�s illuminated body in the dark. The windows from the crappy motel were open and the light from the full moon was shining in from outside, landing directly on Sam�s prone figure and making it glow almost magically.

�Looks like a damn angel.� Dean snorted loudly at the corniness of his thoughts and then quickly checked to see that he hadn�t woken up his brother. When he was assured that Sam hadn�t heard him and was still dreaming of lollipops and candy canes, he pulled his feet from under the covers and threw them restlessly onto the floor. He sat there for a moment bracing both arms against the mattress before he stood up and made his way into the bathroom.

He made sure to close the door quietly before he turned on the bathroom light and squinted at the brightness of the fluorescent light bulb that sharply lit up the room.

He scrubbed his hand across his face and paced for a couple of minutes before stopping in front of the dingy little bathroom mirror. Dirt and rust had started to erode the outside corners and a small crack was making its way down from the upper left-hand corner.

For a moment Dean could just picture the crack beginning to spread before shattering right in front of his eyes and falling to pieces, littering the bathroom floor with glass. He shook his head to clear the image before he stared hard at his reflection.

�Sam didn�t tell me I needed to shave� Dean thought absentmindedly. He ran his hand along his jaw and sighed. �Jesus, what the hell am I doing.�

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He remembered back to Sam and him sitting in the car outside of a Burger King the previous day. They had been talking about something stupid and Sam had taken a pickle off of his whopper and flung it rather haphazardly at Dean�s face. It missed by a long shot and ended up on the seat behind him but Dean got pissed anyway.

�Hey! What the hell Sam! You�re getting ketchup all over my fucking seat here! You know you�re going to clean that up right?� Sam had just smiled proudly and stuck out his tongue. Dean just stared at him in shock.

�Did you seriously just stick your tongue out at me?� He couldn�t believe it, Sam had just acted like he wasn�t a 40-year-old in a 22-year-olds body.

Sam just flipped him off and then started laughing hysterically at the look on Dean�s face. He went on like that for a solid two minutes before he began coughing and Dean slapped him on the back. Sam braced himself on the dashboard so that he wouldn�t hit his head on it from the force that Dean had hit him. When he finally got his breath back he glared at Dean and said, �Are you trying to kill me here man?�

�No, just wondering why you�re deciding to act like a five-year-old now instead of someone with a stick up their ass.�

Sam opened his mouth in shock at Dean�s bluntness and then quickly closed it. When the look of indignation didn�t fade and Sam�s face began to color Dean began laughing.

�Dude I�m only kidding. Well, half-kidding. I�m glad you�re happy. Makes me happy.� He looked away then and started the car. When he glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye the blush hadn�t faded but instead of a frown Sam�s face held a small smile. They had driven the rest of the day in silence and at the next rest stop Sam had thoroughly cleaned the ketchup and pickle stain off of Dean�s back seat.

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Dean blinked slightly realizing he had been daydreaming and quickly turned his head towards the door. Everything still sounded quiet so he assumed Sam was still sleeping and not sleepwalking all over the motel room.

�What the hell was I thinking?� Dean started slightly when he realized he had spoken out loud and then he sighed.

He estimated that he had been in the bathroom about 20 minutes already which meant that it had to be about 3:00 am by now. He hated this time of day.

He hated it not only because evil generally tended to revel in this time of the morning but also because it was too damn quiet. And when it got too quiet all of his thoughts started to crowd in on him. Tonight was no exception.

�What if I�m not enough?� The thought slipped out before he had time to stop it and then it was all downhill from there. Once one thought had trickled past his defenses they all flowed out like a dam had broken and there was no way to stop its progress.

�What if he only kissed me because he thought he had to? What if he�s just trying to make me happy? What if I hurt him? I will hurt him. I hurt everyone. Fuck, what am I doing?!� Dean slammed his fist into the sink so hard that it started to come loose from the wall. Little chunks of old tile and plaster fell soundlessly to the floor and a small cloud of white dust billowed out around him. His fist meanwhile had started to bleed and throb painfully from the impact. But the worst thing was when he heard a small knock on the bathroom door and an even smaller voice.

�Dean, is everything alright?�

�Shit� Dean swore lightly and began looking around frantically for a towel to slow the bleeding.

�I�m fine Sammy, everything�s fine. Go back to sleep.� His voice was rushed and he knew Sam wouldn�t be convinced until he opened the door to see for himself that Dean was in fact alright. Sure enough...

�Open the door Dean.� Sam�s voice drifted in through the door and it didn�t sound happy. Dean closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he reached for the door knob.

He opened the door about a half an inch and all Sam could see was an eyeball. �See, I�m fine.� Then he started to close the door again. However, since Dean�s luck had always been crap and his reflexes were slower with his left hand, Sam had plenty of time to stick his fingers in the door jam before he could close it completely. Dean glared angrily at Sam imposing on him but Sam didn�t seem to care. He simply pulled on the door until Dean let go and then frowned as he took in Dean�s bloody hand and the wrecked sink.

He didn�t say anything for a moment, just kept glancing at the sink, then Dean�s hand, and finally back at the sink.

�What happened? Did you do that?� Dean rolled his eyes and snorted.

�Not exactly the brightest crayon in the box now are we Sammy.�

Sam just scowled at him and said, �Don�t call me Sammy.� Then he brushed past his brother and picked up a towel that had fallen off of the sink earlier. Dean glared at it wishing it would burst into flames for not presenting itself to him earlier in his time of need. �Stupid towel� he muttered instead when it didn�t spontaneously combust.

Sam laughed and pushed Dean lightly in the back to get him to move into the bedroom again.

�Sit down� he gestured toward the bed closest to the door, his bed. Dean looked at it wearily but moved to comply because Sam was standing a little too close behind him for him to do anything else.

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Sam had picked up the first aid kit on the way out of the bathroom and settled himself next to Dean on the bed. He folded his left leg under him so that he could have better access to Dean�s injured hand and began to mend.

He was finished in no time flat and when the last piece of surgical tape was put into place Dean couldn�t stand up fast enough.

�Thanks Sammy, now how about we get some more sleep.� He started walking toward his bed when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

�Not so fast Dean. I want to know what the hell is going on with you.� Dean closed his eyes against the voice and the warmth of the hand on his shoulder before he spoke again.

�Nothing�s wrong, go back to bed.� He tried moving again but Sam wouldn�t be swayed and he tightened his grip in warning.

�Damn it Dean, just talk to me!� He used the grip he had on Dean�s arm to spin him around. However, when he saw Dean�s expression he wished that he hadn�t. That he had just left well enough alone and did what Dean had told him to do.

Dean�s face was a mask. His eyes were lacking any emotion and his face had become completely still. Sam�s gut knotted in apprehension. The only time that Dean�s face ever took on this expression was when he was about to tell Sam something devastating.

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The last time he had seen it was when he was 16 and Dean was 20. Sam�s friend had been in the hospital after having been struck by a drunk driver. Dean had come into his room at 4:15 in the morning and told him that his friend hadn�t made it. Sam had cried for three days straight after that.

Somehow, instinctively, Sam knew that this might just be worse than losing his friend. He pulled his hand away from Dean as if he had been burned. Even went so far as to take a step away from him. Maybe he did it in case Dean struck him, but when he reflected on it later, he knew he had taken that step to try and distance himself from the pain.

�You want me to talk Sammy?� Dean�s voice was low and emotionless. It was a voice that Sam knew he would recognize if he ever ran into the living dead.

It was a voice that made his heart speed up and reflexively swallow back a little of the bile that was rising in his throat. Looking at Dean�s face all Sam wanted to do was take back what he said, to plead for Dean�s forgiveness and ask him to forget that he had said anything at all, that they should just go to bed. All that came out of his tightening throat was a hoarse, �No.�

But, Sam�s luck being just as bad as his brother�s, Dean didn�t appear to hear him.

�You want to know what�s wrong?� Dean took a step forward and Sam shivered. He was right, this was going to be worse than the last time.

Dean�s hollow voice seemed to cut through the night and absorb into the air making it feel cramped and heavy. �This. This is what�s wrong Sammy.� He grabbed Sam�s wrist in an iron hold and advanced again. When he finally stopped he was close enough to feel Sam�s heart beating inside his chest. But he didn�t stop. He couldn�t stop.

�The other night was a mistake. A stupid mistake that I made because I was angry. It can never happen again.�

�But Dean...�

�I never want it to happen again.� Sam�s throat constricted painfully. He had long forgotten about the pain in his wrist. The pain in his heart would kill him first anyway.

�We�re brothers Sam. Brothers. What we did was disgusting. It�s my own fault for letting it go that far. I realize my mistake now. I should have just hit you. Should have just laid you out flat on your ass. Then we wouldn�t have to be having this discussion right now. I wouldn�t have to explain why what we did was wrong. But don�t worry because it will never happen again.� He emphasized his last three words with a squeeze of Sam�s wrist and then he released it. As quickly as it had started it was over.

Dean�s face went from its scary emptiness to anger and he turned away from Sam and crawled under the covers of his own bed.

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Sam just stood in the middle of the room in shock. He felt as if he shouldn�t even exist anymore. In fact his brain couldn�t even comprehend that it was standing and he collapsed to the floor. His eyes were streaming tears that he couldn�t even feel and his chest felt like it was being squeezed by a boa constrictor. He couldn�t think, couldn�t breath. Everything that he cared about, all of the happiness he had finally found had been ripped away by that emptiness. An emptiness that he hadn�t known the depth of until this very moment.

�How...how...� Sam�s brain puttered back to life struggling through the darkness surrounding his thoughts. �How did I let it get so deep?�

Sam�s brain finally kicked in and he felt so much worse. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to hurl things at the wall and step barefoot onto the sharp broken tiles littering the filthy bathroom floor.

Instead, he turned his head slowly and stared at the comforter that was blocking his brother from view. Stared at it until he finally regained a shattered piece of himself.

Standing slowly he braced himself against the side of the bed and hauled himself up from the floor. His entire body felt physically weak but it was nothing compared to the weakness in his heart. But instead of going out into the car or locking himself in the bathroom he pulled back the covers and laid his head on the smelly motel room pillow. He stared at the blue ceiling and for the first time he felt that maybe it wouldn�t be so bad to be stuck to it with flames licking at his skin.

At least then the pain might be enough to take away the aching in his heart.

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Next chapter I will try and get into more of Dean�s thoughts during this whole thing I know the end is kind of Sam based. Anyways, I hope it wasn�t too terrible.
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Caged