Back to Stanford

Sam seemed to accept that, though his mood did not seem to alleviate at all. The prospect of getting to a motel appealed to Dean, one of the few places he felt at home at. Sam was probably not feeling the same way. Sam probably just wanted to be back at home with Jess, alive. He was never going to get a chance to do that again. Dean felt sorry for him.

He probably should have done more to comfort him, though his mind drew blank as to what to do. He'd grown out of simply needing a hug to solve all his problems with the world. Nothing was as clear cut as it used to be now.

Maybe Sam would have preferred the chance to go and stay with one of his college buddies, not getting back to the motel routine. Dean was tempted to ask, but decided against it. They could figure it all out tomorrow.

Sam remembered on a hunt when sometimes someone would be unfortunate, sometimes things went wrong and then it was too late. He remembered how when he was a kid there was no 'mom's gone away for a while' when he started asking questions. Dean had tried to shield him from the truth for a while as well as their dad but it wasn't long till they had to explain, with all the stuff they were hunting it wasn't right to lie.

He waited for them to get to a motel. At least then, he wouldn't have to try and keep his emotions hidden from Dean.

Dean made to reach out to the tape player, but pulled away at the last minute. Putting on music would serve as a distraction to him, but it would probably annoy Sam even more. Though annoying Sam could serve as a method of getting his mind off of Jess. Dean looked at Sam hesitantly. He was probably still thinking about her.

Dean reached out again, and turned it on. Guns n Roses started playing loudly, and Dean toned down the volume a little.

There should be a motel nearby, though he did not really know the area very well. He was hoping that if he kept on driving then he would come across one eventually, as usually seemed to happen.

Sam couldn't care less about what Dean was listening to. He barely even registered that there was music even on in the car... But then he eventually focused on it. It make his mind turn around so he wouldn't have to think... of anything. He concentrated on the taste in music that somehow Dean preferred to more modern stuff.

Would his taste in music ever change? Probably not.

The lack of complaining about his music on Sam's half was unsettling. He was used to the constant bitching that came on whenever he played it, but not today. Not with Jess dead. Dean tapped along to the beat on the steering wheel, watching the road ahead. He could make out a sign for a motel, half a mile ahead. At least they would not be driving for too much longer.

He pulled in at the neon flashing sign. It looked run down, more shabby then the one they stayed at the night before. Still, it was better then nothing. Dean glanced over at Sam when he had them parked, wondering how to approach the whole situation.

"You ready to go in?" Dean asked, resting his hand against the door handle.

Sam swallowed. "It's just a motel." he muttered, getting out the car and shutting the door behind him. What would it make a difference if he was out here or in there? It wasn't like he would feel any different.

The night was dark... calm... peaceful. They'd left all the commotion and chaos behind them, a long way down the road. It seemed so wrong... so wrong. He was back with Dean now... back onto hunting. There was no light heartedness, no looking forward to getting back to school... back to Jess. Dad and Dean had both been right. You couldn't have any personal relationships with this job... even when you were out of it.

Dean got out of the car after Sam, locking it before heading towards the motel. He was unsure of what they were going to do when they booked the room. It was relatively early, probably about half nine, so he would be surprised if Sam wanted to go to sleep. They could talk what what had happened, a conversation he was dreading.

Sam started to walk towards the entrance to the motel, trying to keep his pace the same. To keep walking towards the motel, but he was slowing down eventually not even caring whether he made it or not. What would it matter if he stayed out there? It wasn't like it was going to kill him.

Dean walked along side Sam on the way to the motel, shoving his car keys in his pocket. It was much colder here then it was in the car, the fire from the apartment earlier must have stopped him realising how cold it was. Still, they would be in the motel soon. Just had to book a room then they would be more or less sorted for the night.

Sam seemed to slow down to a snails pace when they were by the entrance, which Dean did not really notice till he was several paces ahead. He stopped and turned round, waiting for Sam to catch back up.

"Are you coming, man?" Dean asked, looking at Sam with his brow creased in concern.

The last request Jess had asked of him was for him to come back. He'd made it... he'd just been too late. Sam had had to choose over his family and his girl friend and in the end he had ended up with family - and that was the important thing, right? It didn't... matter...

But it did matter. Why should it not have to matter? Why couldn't he just have been normal and gone to school, and had a girl friend, and left school, and got married, and lived an apple pie life with neighbours and a job and maybe kids? And maybe Jess?

He ended up at the side of the building, leaning against it, wondering how something could just cross a line like that.

Looked like Sam was in a bit of a mood. Fair enough, his girlfriend had just died and all, but couldn't he find somewhere a bit warmer to sulk? Sighing, Dean walked over to where he was standing, so that he was stood in front of him. What to do now?

"Come on Sammy," he murmured, his hand going out to rest on Sam's arm, "We need to go inside now, staying out here isn't going to bring her back."

Sam laughed sarcastically, pulling away from Dean's touch. "That's just it, Dean. Nothing... nothing we do will ever bring her back. We can kill that demon... we can burn it to hell, but getting Jess back? That's not gunna happen."

His hands curled into fists. "I want that son of a bitch dead."

Sam was starting to sound more and more like dad. Somehow it sounded wrong on Sam, the bitter need to kill that demon for what it did. He was so used to hearing it on their father that it didn't bother him, it was how it had always been.

"We will get it," Dean said firmly, but keeping his tone more or less neutral. He needed to calm Sam down.

Dean put out his hand that had been shrugged off earlier onto Sam's shoulder, tugging it a little more insistently away from the wall, "We're not doing it now though. So, can we go in the motel?"

Sam didn't move, intent on Dean leaving him alone. Did he get that he didn't want to be around anyone right now? He just wanted to mourn over Jess without Dean trying to talk to him or do something weird that he knew he couldn't do. Like comfort him.

...That was scary.

"You go." Sam muttered.

Looked like Sam was planning on being stubborn. Sure, he had sympathy for him, but that did not extend to leaving him vulnerable out here on his own.

"Dude, I'm not leaving you out here by yourself," Dean snorted, shaking his head, "It's freezing. You're coming in." Dean grabbed hold of Sam's wrist with his free hand, the one previously on his shoulder moving down to hold onto his forearm. He pulled harder this time. He had not anticipated this.

"I've had worse." said Sam, bitterly, remembering that only the day before he'd fallen in a river. Everything had seemed so okay then, even if he had hypothermia and Dean had maybe been a little too brotherly in the car... but Jess had been okay then. Was it really all his fault that she was gone? Just because he'd got close to her than she'd been killed?

"Why do you care so much if I want in? I won't stay out here forever."

Was Sam referring to the day before? With the hiking that had resulted in Sam falling in a river and getting hypothermia. How was that even relevant? That had been horrible, and was not an experience that he wanted repeating again tonight.

Dean was not so sure that Sam was telling the truth when he said that he wouldn't stay outside forever. For a start, if Dean went inside he wouldn't know which room he was staying in. Secondly, he would probably, knowing Sam, fall asleep outside or something.

"And that was just a bundle of fun," Dean answered, irritation starting to creep into his tone, "Jesus, Sam, just get in the motel already." He let go of Sam's arms, taking a few steps closer, and putting a hand on Sam's back, between the shoulder blades, pushing him in the direction of the motel entrance.

Sam was getting fed up of Dean persistently trying to get him to go inside. He would be fine. He was fine. Dean was the one who was trying to get him to go with it, to keep going. Well, he would if he could just give him five minutes!

"Just give me a minute. I'll meet you inside." he said, hoping that Dean would at least agree to that.

Dean hesitated, as he evaluated whether or not that would be a good idea. On one hand Sam probably did need his space, he was obviously having difficulty dealing with it, especially when the death was so raw. Though on the other hand would it really be a good idea to leave him out here on his own? The thing that killed their mom and Jess could still be out there, and would it be right to leave Sam out here, vulnerable. Not to mention Sam probably was not all that stable at the moment. Dean could imagine him just taking off like their dad, going after it and not giving him any warning.

Dean let go of Sam, and nodded. Despite his misgivings, it would probably be a better idea to give him his five minutes. He could just go and get the room, and wait for Sam in the reception area. If he didn't come within five minutes then he could go and get him.

"Okay, you got five minutes," Dean said, taking a step back.

"Kay." Sam said shortly in response. It was like they were kids again.

'You got five minutes' he heard the 14 year old Dean telling him when he wanted to go into the book store and look at the newest titles in the non-fiction section. He could never really afford to buy anything, and when he had his own laptop on his 11th birthday there wasn't much point anymore when he could find anything that was online, or go to the library when there was one around.

He stayed in the same spot, trying to work out if he wanted to bring Jess to the surface, or try to bury her in his mind. Over time, maybe things would be different.

Dean looked at Sam one last time, before turning around and walking into the motel. Hopefully when Sam came back in he would be a little calmer, and hopefully okay to go into the motel room. For now though he obviously wasn't, so it was only fair to give him those five minutes privacy to himself.

When he got inside the first things he noticed were the peeling yellow paint on the walls, the worn down carpet and the ancient furniture. The place was a dump for sure, though it was better then nothing. Dean went over to book them into a room for the night. When that was done he stood awkwardly, his back leant against the wall as he waited for Sam to come back in, checking his watch every now and then to see if his time was up.

Sure enough, Sam entered the motel room after his brother not even five minutes later. He knew Dean was only using the excuse of it being cold to make him come inside, but it hardly was different to during the day and it wasn't like he wasn't wearing a hoodie...

So when he came inside, he glanced at Dean standing over by the wall, leaning against it (though not looking happy about this since the walls were gross), and walked slowly over towards him.

Dean looked up as he heard the sound of the door opening, watching as Sam walked in. True to his word, he had been no more then five minutes, though several times Dean had been tempted to go out and see if he was alright. Doing so would probably not have been a good idea though, Sam clearly needed his space, and preventing him from having it would only make things worse.

Should he try and talk to Sam about it? Or would that be a bad idea? He really had didn't know what to do. How was he supposed to deal with Sam after something like this? There was hardly anything he could do to make it better.

"Are you..." Dean trailed off. It was a stupid question. Of course Sam was not okay. But what the hell else was he meant to say? "It wasn't your fault," he settled on instead, taking a few steps towards Sam unsurely. He seemed to be taking it okay, or at least he could be reacting worse. Dean was unsure of how long that would last for.

Sam nodded. "Uh huh." He mumbled. Dean didn't know. Could he even tell him about the nightmares he'd had before Jess died? He did't even understand them himself, and he had obviously not given enough away about them. Aside from when he had tried to call her on that first night, in the first motel.

It was all so complicated... "What room are we in?" he asked, changing the subject. He really didn't want to talk about it right now.

Sam sounded slightly sceptical when he responded, but Dean decided against pushing it. Best just get to the motel room, and then they could have a heart to heart on it, if that was what Sam wanted. He had meant it when he said that it wasn't Sam's fault. There was literally nothing he could have done to stop it, no way he could have known. If it was anyone's fault it was Dean's for dragging him away from Jessica, away from college. Though if that had not happened then Sam could have been killed as well. The thought of that happening sent an icy thrill of fear through his veins. That was not something he wanted to think about.

"Room 14," Dean answered, keeping his voice carefully neutral. If Sam wanted to avoid talking about it, then he was not going to force him into it. He hardly wanted to talk about it either.