tampered | Log; Closed : Ongoing

Log; Closed : Ongoing

When; November 27
Rating;PG-13
Characters; Sam Winchester & Dean Winchester
Summary; Somebody traded memories and now in typical Winchester fashion, they don't want to talk about it.
Log;

Dean is sitting in Mary's kitchen at the island, eating waffles like it's his job. He isn't eating with the gusto he usually does. In fact, if his plate were traded out for anything else, he probably wouldn't notice. This is serious business and it's messing with Dean's love of food. If his eating weren't cue enough, it's clear from the stony expression on his face that something is bothering him. He's locked down to the point of showing absolutely no emotion. See, he woke up with memories that weren't his. In fact, they were Sam's memories of that night he flat lined, the night that John made the deal and Sam thought he was going to have to spend his life without Dean. In a way, it feels like Dean has let Sam down. He wasn't there when Sam needed. It doesn't matter to Dean that he wasn't there because he was busy dying, just that he wasn't there.

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If Dean feels bad about that, Sam feels like he's let Dean down by existing. It's not Sam who's been held back by their lives, and the turn they've taken--it's Dean's. Dean who, at some point Sam can't determine, had a family. A beautiful woman, a cute kid, a house and a job and waffles.

He's staring at the waffles on his plate, a clear memory of Dean letting them fall expertly onto plates that he set before Ben and Lisa. Those are their names.

Crap. The explanation that goes behind that scene is going to make Dean guilty forever since Sam was dead. It takes Dean a minute to realize that Sam's not eating because he's focused on what he 'remembered'. Finally he glances over at Sam, then stares hard.

"Dude, they're not going to bite you."

Yeah. Lisa taught him to make waffles.

Sam looks up, startled, flushing just a bit.

"Yeah, no," he says. "Sorry, I... guess I didn't sleep very well."

But he starts eating, like a good boy, barely tasting them.

Dean is watching Sam with a good deal of suspicion. Something's not right here but he's not sure what.

At least they're both barely tasting their breakfast.

"Yeah? Why not?"

"Dreams, I guess. I don't know."

After a moment, Sam sets his fork down, and Dean might recognize the 'we have to talk' look on his face.

"Dean, I dreamed you were making breakfast for some woman and a kid."

Dean hates that look. He's going to concentrate on his waffles. He purses his lips and keeps his quiet for a little while, trying to figure out what he's going to say to sam.

"Yeah. Lisa and Ben. She threw me out after a while. Hunting was...hunting."

Sam stares at him. He knows when Dean's hiding something. "She threw you out," he echoes flatly. "Dean... Where was I?"

"You were hunting with me."

It's not a lie. It's not the whole truth either. Sam was technically alive and hunting with him when Lisa kicked him out. Yeah, he's hiding so much.

"So what you're saying is... you had this little picket fence thing going on and I pulled you away from it?"

He swallows painfully. It wasn't a dream--he'd known it could have been, he knew he wouldn't have come up with that on his own--but hearing it brings it home. He'd been seeing his future, Dean's past, a happy ending he, Sam, will tear apart. Because that's not his happy ending anymore. Is that it?

"No." It's quick and firm. "You didn't pull me away. Hunting pulled me away." He swallows hard and takes a deep breath. "Ben nearly got hurt. Hunting followed me home and...Lisa didn't want Ben raised that way. She kicked me out."

It's not the whole truth but trying to explain how Dean became a vampire and how he got back to a human was too much. His words weren't a lie in any case.

Sam knows when Dean's lying. Which... most of the time, when he's talking about his feelings, or what he wants. He does it to protect himself, but also to protect Sam. He knows this, and he doesn't know whether to let it go this time because it hasn't happened yet and there's nothing he can do anyway.

"Okay," he says slowly. "But I should've... I don't know, I shouldn't've let you do that. Where was... You know, maybe I should be asking why the hell I'm remembering this."

"Yeah 'cause you could stop me from hunting." A roll of Dean's eyes makes it clear that he doesn't hold Sam responsible for what happened with Lisa and Ben, even if he still has his suspicions that Souless!Sam let that vamp bite him.

"I made a choice, Sam. It came after my family and I fought back. I didn't want to be Dad...come home to find Lisa--" He stops and shoes his head, knowing that Sam came home to find Jess on the ceiling too. "She's alive. She's okay. Ben's okay. I'm good with my choice."

He takes a sip of his coffee and then looks at Sam. "Fun curse courtesy of the City? Hell if I know." He's not about to tell Sam what he remembers.

Sam is quiet for a moment, looking down. He's become increasingly convinced that Dean is right. Being what they were either gets your family in trouble, or means the people you meet are... trouble. But he can't help but think that Dean got out, and something pulled him back in. Something more complicated than that.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't want it to be that way." He wonders if he'd liked Lisa. If he'd approved, or whatever. "What was I... did I, you know, settle down?"

It's way more complicated than that but Dean doesn't want to get into everything. Not with this Sam who is relatively still innocent. Unfortunately, Sam is right. There's a reason most hunters don't have families.

"I know you didn't. It's the way things are." Dean doesn't even want to think about how much Sam approved. "You were still hunting too."

Sam doesn't want to be right. He's not hungry anymore; he pushes away his waffles.

"They seemed nice," he says lamely, taking as read since Dean hasn't denied anything that what he'd seen was the truth.

"Yeah. They were--are. They are. They're both...fine. They're both fine."

And that's how they'll stay as long as Dean stays away from them.

"So what, you just woke up with these memories? Or did you have another vision thing?"

Sam frowns. "I haven't had a 'vision thing' in..." He trails off. Maybe he gets them again. He just doesn't know. "No, I just woke up and remembered. Like... like remembering a dream, only it didn't feel like that."

"That's good." Maybe here he could prevent Sam from going down that path. Of course it's going to be a lot easier without the hellbitch Ruby around.

Also, confession time. Dean clears his throat and takes a swig of coffee.

"Yeah...uh...I know what you mean. Sort of--you know the night Dad made the deal?" The 'for me' is unsaid but the guilt that he feels at that is very present in his voice.

"I sorta...think I remembered things from your point of view."

Sam files away the suspicion that there's more to this vision thing, more that Dean knows. Of course there is. Castiel has implied as much. But he's knocked off that train of thought by Dean's confession. Sam's eyes widen.

"From my..." His mouth feels a little dry, and he takes a sip of coffee. "You mean when you were..."

Dean is going to stuff his mouth with food so that all he can do is nod and make a "Mmmfheah." sort of sound. He really doesn't want to talk about this. Possibly less than he wants to talk about Lisa and Ben. At least there he could work with the truth to avoid telling Sam anything he didn't want to tell him.

Sam is doing that puppy dog thing again. It's not conscious. But he's thinking about what he remembers, how vivid Dean's feelings are to him, and it was only last year that Dean... He tries to remember what he was thinking them. What he was feeling. Was it something bad? Had Dean learned something Sam didn't want him to know?

Dean sees that. He hates the puppy dog thing. It makes him feel like he needs to fix everything. Dean's still struggling through those feelings, trying to sort them out and decide what they all meant.

"Want some pancakes? Or eggs. I can do eggs."

"Dean..." Sam trails off for a moment, because Dean is trying to fix things with food and he feels like he's six. "I have waffles." Which he already isn't eating.

"More coffee? I could use some more coffee."

He gets up from the island and pours himself some more coffee, offering the pot to Sam. He's not sure how Sam was feeling during his memories. There was a lot of panic. He knows that and he understands that. There was a lot of fear and sadness, a lot of hopelessness and helplessness.

"Yeah," Sam says, exhaling as he takes the pot. He looks down into the cup for a moment. "Dean... when I thought I was gonna lose you, I couldn't even imagine going on, just me and Dad. It was one thing when I was at school, and I knew you were out there... I guess I understand why you brought me back, why Dad did what he did, and I don't want to feel like that again."

He swallows, taking a too-hot sip of coffee. He doesn't know what's going to happen in the next few months--the ones back home. He knows he's no closer to saving Dean than he'd been in that hospital room. He also knows that if it had just been Sam and John, things would have fallen apart.

Dean hates this. He hates that Sam had to feel like that. He hates that he has to know how Sam felt and he hates what he knows must be going on in Sam's head because of the memory of his he got. Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sammy. You don't have to worry about that."

At least he's not going anywhere and staying.

Sam looks up, expression fixed, demanding. "So you're not going to Hell, Dean?" he asks. It's harsh, but how can he say he's not going anywhere? "Are you telling me we figure it out?"

Dean clears his throat. He hates this conversation. "Nah, I'm going. Did go. Probably go back when I finally bite it." He takes a swig of his coffee. He needs it for this conversation.

"Cas...Cas pulls me out."

He shoves the sleeve of his tee shirt up so Sam can see the hand shaped scar on his shoulder. "Only damn scar on my body."

"Jesus," Sam exclaims, leaning forward. The scar is a perfect print, angry and red and just... weird. "But wait. What about the one on your back? And the one on your knee? And...?"

Maybe it's not the most important thing, but right now, Dean's numerous scars are something to focus on.

He's pretty sure it's a normal reaction though. It was kind of his too and he was sort of pissed about all the scars being gone. Dean shakes his head in response to Sam's question.

"Gone. Skin like a baby's except for this one." A nod toward his shoulder. "Pissed me the hell off too."

Those scars had been tied to memories, not all of them good but not all of them bad either.

Sam leans close to examine it. "There's a whole lot here I'm not getting," he says, looking up again. "That's on purpose, isn't it? You told Castiel not to tell. But none of this makes any sense."

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Log; Closed : Ongoing

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