Chapter 3 Options

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean drove, not quite knowing in what direction at first since there wasn't much in the way of landmarks left and a lot of the street signs were damaged beyond recognition. Hell, he wasn't even sure where he was much less the direction he needed to go to get to his destination. His brother had done all the driving while Dean had been passed out in the passenger seat before, and he hadn't thought to ask where the fuck they were before he'd left.

So, he started driving west and he'd just keep going west until he found something that would point him in a clearer direction. It was all he could really do.

The truck had four wheel drive, which was good because more than once Dean had to pull off the road entirely to bypass the remains of cars blocking his way. It didn't have a tape player or anything though so Dean's only companion was the utter silence save for the rumbling of the truck's engine. If it had been his impala, maybe it could have been comforting, but it wasn't. It was wrong. Everything was wrong.

That's what happens when the world ends…

Without any kind of distractions his thoughts, not really surprisingly, were almost constantly on his brother. The brother he'd left behind.

Dean realized he'd never been as alone as he was right now. When Sam had left them and gone to Stanford, he'd had dad. When Dad had gone missing, Dean had went to look for Sam at Stanford. The few times he and Sam weren't together, at least there were other people around, even if they were strangers. People driving in cars, people walking around shopping centers, people sleeping in motel rooms next to theirs. Now there was nothing.

So often Dean felt himself gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were nearly white, breaking out in a cold sweat at the sheer… panic… he felt at being so alone. Sam… how could he have just fucking left Sam? His brother. They were family. They had to stick together. Now more than ever. So many times Dean had nearly turned the truck around, nearly gone back for the younger man, beg Sam's forgiveness even if he didn't deserve it… but then he remembered the hurt look that would appear on his brother's face whenever Dean did anything.

Dean was fucked up. Fucked up in so many ways. He knew that. He'd even told Sam that. Right now Dean was just a burden to the younger man that his brother didn't need. It wasn't Sam's job to take care of him. Dean might have left in anger, but he wasn't angry now. He was just resigned. He was only hurting Sam. Everything he said, everything he did, just by being next to him… His brother would be better off without him.

Sam might not believe there was anyone left out there, but Dean did. Sam would find them and his brother would be better off.

Finally Dean came across a highway sign that wasn't completely burned when he crossed what used to be the state line between Massachusetts and New York. Well, at least he was going in the right direction. Unfortunately it would take him a few days at least to get to South Dakota, especially since even traveling on the highway it was practically like traveling off road. He'd need gas pretty soon to boot.

So reluctantly Dean pulled the truck off of the highway onto a smaller street in hopes to come across a gas station, and maybe someplace he could stock up on what he'd need to get him to South Dakota. After driving another half hour or so, just as the sun was beginning to set, he hit the jackpot. One of those big ass 24 hour Wal-Mart's and most of it was still standing.

Dean pulled the truck right up to the front door, not like there was anyone around to bitch about his choice of parking spaces, and got out. He had to break the glass to the sliding door because there was no power and it was pitch black inside. After some scrounging near the front of the store using the limited and fading light coming in through the glass doors he managed to find a flashlight and batteries for it.

The first thing Dean did was grab a bag and load it with a few more flashlights of varying strengths and all the batteries he could possibly find, knowing the things were going to be as priceless as gold. After taking the bag out to the truck and throwing it in the back, he returned inside to see if there was anything else useful he could find.

He changed out of his ripped and dirty clothes right in the store, not like there was anyone to see, and put on some new clean jeans and a t-shirt. He grabbed a duffle from the shelves and loaded up things like underwear, socks, more jeans and shirts, some flannels, a heavy winter jacket and a couple lighter jackets. He changed his ruined boots for a new pair and threw several more pairs into the duffel before he dragged that out and threw it in the trunk as well.

Next he went to the food section with another duffel, grabbing and loading it up with bottled water and Gatorade. He opened up several Twinkies and ate them right there, washing them down with a Gatorade. Then loaded the bag up with more food that wouldn't spoil for several weeks at least, then loaded that bag into the truck along with the others.

Dean went to the sports and outdoor section and picked up some 'essentials' like a camping stove, a gas lantern, lighters, he replaced his Swiss Army Knife, grabbed a tent large enough to hold two people, and a couple of sleeping bags as well. By the time he got all that out to the truck he was more than winded and there wasn't much room left, but there were still a few more essentials.

He went back to the outdoors section, specifically the gun section, and grabbed a couple of different rifles, shotguns, and handguns and stocked up on ammunition for all of them. He grabbed a holster for a handgun and a large hunting knife and strapped it on right there, wanting them handy if he needed them. Not like he had to worry about concealing weapons anymore.

Finally he broke into the pharmacy section of the store and stocked up on whatever antibiotics, painkillers, and other medical supplies that wouldn't expire for a few years at least. Better have too much than not enough. Better safe than sorry.

After tying down a tarp over the precious supplies to protect them Dean realized he hadn't gotten just enough for a few days. He hadn't even gotten enough for just himself. He'd gotten enough for several weeks… and for two. He'd thrown in a pair of boots that were Sam's size. He'd gotten several items of clothing that would be much too big for him. He'd even gotten some 'snacks' that he didn't even like, but Sam did.

Dean might have laughed if he didn't feel like crying.

When he got back in the truck he found a gas station that wasn't completely ruined and managed to siphon enough gas to fill the truck's tank as well as fill a few gas containers in case he couldn't find more any time soon. As prepared as he'd ever be, Dean got back on the highway but he wasn't heading west anymore. He was heading east.

[Pegasi]

The next day, Sam decided he was losing his mind. He kept seeing Dean everywhere. He kept hearing Dean's voice calling his name, almost so real that he got woken up by it when he finally managed to doze off for a few minutes. It was like Dean yelled his name into Sam's ear and Sam would bolt upright, looking for his brother.

By afternoon, he was going crazy with worry for Dean, and he was starting to wonder if he should head to South Dakota and look for Dean... Sam didn't think he could do this alone, and he knew he didn't have it in him to not ever see Dean again. As much as they had been fighting lately, Sam still loved Dean like no one else and even if the reverse wasn't true anymore, Sam couldn't stay away...

In the evening, he spent several hours lying in Dean's bed, just breathing in his brother's fading scent. He knew he was depressed. He had experienced it once before when he had left for Stanford. Everything in him had screamed for his brother. He had wanted to come back home so badly that he had nearly called Dean a million times before he managed to get a hold of himself and focus on studying. Of course, he had never told anyone this, but the first few tests he had written over there, he had failed. Nothing seemed worth it if he didn't have his brother with him.

He was back there again right now, only without the distractions. He knew he should get out of bed, find something to accomplish... he knew he should try and find Dean, but he kept thinking about how even in a world where there was no one else, Dean left him. What was the point of seeking someone like that out? Dean would probably take one look at him and run.

Sam closed his eyes, knowing that wasn't true, and that even if Dean didn't love him anymore then he didn't hate him... right? Afterall, Lucifer had tortured Dean in Sam's body... he had used Sam's hands, Sam's voice, Sam's memories to worsen the sting of the blade, and so it wouldn't be a surprise if Dean really did hate him. It's not really a surprise Dean left, actually. Not a surprise at all.

He's probably never coming back.

And he probably didn't want Sam to seek him out either.

Sam shook his head, reaching up to pull at his hair. He wasn't going to give in to those thoughts, or he would end up killing himself. No. He wasn't going to do that because he was stronger than that. He could survive anything that got thrown at him, even the goddamn apocalypse. He'll just have to make the best of the situation, even if he had to do it alone.

It was after sundown when Sam threw his blanket aside and got out of bed, heading out of the room into the cool night. He went around to the back again, to the dark, abandoned pool. He saw a small rock lying at his feet in the moonlight and he picked up, throwing it towards the edge of the destroyed forest as hard as he could. The rock made a loud thump that was magnified even more in the silence of the world.

Sam sighed as he stared into the darkness of what would have once been a lush forest.

Then he heard a rustle.

Sam's eyes widened as he listened harder. There it was again. Another soft rustle.

Sam took several steps forward, excitement making his heart beat faster... he was as quiet as he could be, but then he saw a pair of shining eyes set in the shadows.

"Hello?!" Sam called out, his heart pounding now. At the sound of his echoing voice, the shadow moved fast, the rustling accompanying it until Sam saw it running away. It was that particular way of running that helped identify the creature to Sam.

"Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed, because Dean was right. There were other creatures alive. That? What Sam just saw? Had been a fucking deer.

He had to get to Dean and apologize, because he had been wrong and if a deer could survive on ground zero, means there have to be other survivors! And it makes sense that Sam and Dean haven't run into them yet because any normal human would run for cover and stay there once the danger had passed. He bet there were people scattered all over the place, thinking they were the last ones...

Fuck... he shouldn't have discounted Dean's observation even if logic had said otherwise.

He had to tell Dean about the deer. At least it was something that would give Dean some semblance of happiness.

[Ithiel Dragon]

It took a hell of a lot longer getting back to the motel where he’d left Sam than it had taken driving away, much to Dean’s dismay. It was already starting to get dark when he started driving east, and Dean had never really taken into account just how black the night could get when there wasn’t anything like street lights to show the way. The headlights of the truck barely seemed to cut through the inky darkness and the roads that had been difficult to navigate at best in the daytime had become truly treacherous at night. Finally Dean had to admit defeat and pull the truck over to the side of the road.

Though Dean really didn’t want to sleep any more than he had before, he forced himself to get as comfortable as he could in the cramped cab and close his eyes. He’d managed a few hours of sleep, even though he’d woken up to his own screams more times than he cared to count. He wondered how much that had to do with the fact that he knew Sam wasn’t there, keeping the demons at bay, figuratively speaking. Sure, he’d had nightmares when Sam had been there, but now they seemed so much worse.

By the time the sky started turning a lighter dark blue color Dean was more than ready to start driving again but he forced himself to wait till the sun rose a little over the horizon so he wouldn’t drive off a cliff or something in the dark. He’d already done that once, and he’d like to avoid repeating the experience thanks very much.

Dean spent the entire next day behind the wheel, trying to get back to Sam. Unfortunately as he drove, getting closer and closer to his destination, he began to worry about ever actually finding the motel again.

Just as he’d been worried about not knowing where he was heading when he was driving away, now he really didn’t know where he was going. Everything looked the same. Destruction and death. Obliterated road signs offering him no help gauging his distance from the ruined motel that wouldn’t stick out in any way from any other half destroyed structure he passed.

Twice already Dean had stopped, thinking that it might be the motel where he’d left Sam, but a quick search of the premises proved him wrong and he was back on the road again. He knew he was close. He could feel it. But rather than feeling comforted by that knowledge all Dean felt was fear. It was getting dark again quickly. What if he made a wrong turn? What if he went completely past the broken down motel? What if he never found his brother again?

More and more Dean cursed himself and his idiotic decision to leave Sam behind for more than one reason. Dean wasn’t sure if he’d ever forgive himself, and he wasn’t sure if his brother would ever forgive him either… if he ever found Sam again that was.

The sun had set now but Dean was determined to get back to Sam tonight. He almost missed the outline of the dark structure against the black sky, but it looked familiar enough from the road that Dean pulled off the highway and as he got closer his heart started to speed up. Was this it? Was he back?

By the time Dean pulled into the parking lot he was almost sure of it.

“Sam!” Dean called loudly into the darkness when he got out of the truck.

[Pegasi]

Sam's first instinct was to get into the SUV and head towards South Dakota, night or not. He even got into the car and headed towards the road, headlights on bright, but in a span of five minutes he had felt three bodies get crushed under his wheels, and he had grazed the car's side against a streetpole when he tried to avoid going over a fourth body.

He realized that he really couldn't drive all the way across the state in the middle of the night, not with the roads as treacherous as they were. He sighed, his heart screaming to go to Dean, but his mind was scared. Dean had left him. Sam felt the now familiar guilt and sadness return. Dean had left because he pretty much couldn't stand Sam anymore. Not when Sam talked, and not when he didn't. Sam had started to feel like his every existence offended Dean...

And now Sam was going to force his presence on Dean again, when Dean had sought to escape from it? Was he really that damn selfish?

Sam pulled back into the parking lot and got out of the car, leaning against the side of the vehicle as he pondered his actions. What was he supposed to do? Should he go after Dean? Or not? What if he didn't go after Dean, and Dean took it as confirmation that Sam didn't love him anymore? But what if he did go, and only saw annoyance in Dean's eyes? Could Sam handle that?

Better yet, could Sam handle not going for Dean at all? After all, in this world, he literally had nothing else other than his brother. While in another life, if Dean had left him, Sam would have either continued hunting or gotten a job. He could have taken his mind off of how much he missed his brother. But in this world, if he didn't have Dean to live for, then he had nothing.

Sam sighed and headed back into the motel room, pressing the light switch and realizing that the electricity was gone. Somehow... somehow that made the whole thing even more real. The world was shrouded in darkness, and Sam was alone.

The pitch black of the room got to Sam in only a few minutes. He couldn't handle the way the darkness seemed almost solid, making it difficult for him to breathe and it made him feel trapped. So he left and went out to the back, willing the sun to come up so he could get on the road and head to Dean. Even if Dean rejected him, Sam only wanted to see him one more time before he decided on what he wanted to do with his own life.

It was late and Sam was sitting at the pool again, imagining cool water lapping at his feet when he heard the sound of a car coming towards him. The stillness of the night made it easy to distinguish when the car slowed down and when it entered the parking lot of the motel on the other side. Sam got up slowly, knowing that it was Dean, and wondering why he was back. After all, Dean had left him, and so it was Sam's responsibility to try and fix things between them, not the other way round.

Then Sam heard Dean's call, and he went back around to the front, the whole thing feeling like Déjà vu. Just yesterday he had headed this exact way after Dean had walked away from him. Then that very day, only a few hours later, Dean had left him again.

Seriously, Sam was starting to have difficulty blaming anyone but himself. Was he so damn difficult that Dean couldn't stand him even when he was the only person around for miles? Was Sam so unlikeable that Dean would rather choose solitude than be with him?

Sam swallowed heavily when he saw Dean's shadow moving about the parking lot. Just that glimpse of his brother was like coming home. Sam stopped, waiting at the edge of the parking lot. He wanted to rush forward and hug his brother, but he didn't know if he'll be welcome to do that.

"You're back?" Sam's voice was quiet, and even with the distance between them Sam had no doubt that Dean heard him. It was quiet enough that he was sure Dean could even hear Sam's heart beating if he listened for it. Sam had meant to say it as a statement, an observation, but it came out sounding like a question instead. Are you really back? Or are you leaving again? But there was a lot of 'Please don't go again' thrown in there as well.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean was sure this was the place. He was positive. But as nothing but silence greeted his call, a thought he hadn’t considered before filtered into his mind that nearly sent his heart racing with panic. What if Sam wasn’t here anymore? What if Sam had left after Dean had, relieved that he no longer had his burden of a big brother to look after anymore? What reason did his brother have to stay in this dump, after all? What reason did Sam have to even look for him, much less wait for him? How the hell would he ever find Sam in this fucking wasteland?

The idea made him feel like he was choking, like he couldn’t breathe even though there was plenty of oxygen left around… one of the few things that were left in the world. Dean felt light headed and weak. His legs might have simply given out beneath him without much warning if he hadn’t heard a soft sound in the darkness. Maybe only his imagination, but he clung to the believe that he had heard the sound of a footstep against gravel that wasn’t his own.

It was so quiet for a few seconds all he could hear was his own heart beating loud and fast against his ribs. Then he heard the soft words and felt like he could breathe again. The words sounded like a question… but what question? Was he back? Or why was he back? He didn’t know what Sam was asking him. Dean didn’t want to fuck this up again…

“I’m sorry, Sammy.” Dean finally managed and he hoped his brother believed he was sincere, because he was. He had a fucking lot to be sorry for. A hell of a lot to make up for, and Dean would try if his brother would give him the chance to.

He took a step towards his brother’s voice in the darkness.

[Pegasi]

Sam hadn't expected Dean to apologize, because what did he have to apologize for? Sam was wrong, and he had been wrong when he had disregarded Dean's observation about the flies. He had also been coming on too strong to Dean in his attempt to see a sliver of his old brother. Doing so, he was only widening the rift between them.

He knew he was wrong, but he just didn't know what he had to do to do it right.

Sam took brisk steps towards Dean, hearing the sincerity in his words and feeling his own heart ache with need. In just one day of not having his brother around, he already missed him so damn much. He pulled Dean into his arms, wrapping his big brother up as best as he could with himself.

"I'm sorry too, Dean," Sam whispered fiercely, lips pressed against the shell of Dean's ear. He was sure his breath was probably not too comfortable on Dean's ear, but he couldn't get himself to move. Not yet. "I push too hard... I'm sorry," Sam whispered again, squeezing Dean tightly for a brief moment before pulling away just enough that they were facing each other.

"You were right," Sam explained, not whispering anymore but still quiet. "I saw a deer behind the motel a few hours ago. A deer, Dean!" Sam laughed softly, amazed by his own words.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean heard the sound of Sam’s footsteps on the gravel more than he saw his brother move in the darkness, but he wasn’t all that surprised when a second later he felt the younger man’s arms wrap around him. Or maybe he was surprised, a little. Surprised that Sam would forgive him so easily for leaving him behind. Or maybe surprised that this time he didn’t flinch away at all from his brother’s touch when he had so many times before.

His own arms came up to wrap around the younger man tightly, and swallowed hard against the emotion that welled up in his throat. Simply not sure if he could deal with it right now on top of everything else. He wasn’t going to break down again. Sam didn’t need that right now.

He nodded a little to Sam’s words whispered in his ear. Knowing this probably wouldn’t be the last time they ended up apologizing to each other, but hopefully it would be the last time for a while at least.

When Sam started to pull away Dean had to admit it was sooner than he’d expected and he wasn’t all that sure he wanted his brother to go. But Sam’s words confused him. He was right? About what? Dean couldn’t think of a damned thing he’d been right about…

A deer?

“Seriously?” Dean asked before he could help himself. He wouldn’t put it past Sam to make something like that up just to make him feel better or something… but if it was true he couldn’t help being blown away by the news. When Dean had raided the Wal-Mart for supplies he couldn’t help doubting his earlier assumptions that there had to be people alive. Because even though the place was trashed and there were bodies everywhere it was pretty well stocked. If there were any humans in the area the place should have been picked clean, right? But maybe…

“That’s… wow…” He wasn’t sure what else to say, but thinking of his shopping trip he finally released Sam and turned back to his borrowed truck. At least the moon had started to come out from behind some clouds so he could see better.

“I got some supplies. Some clothes and stuff for you.” Dean said as he started untying the protective tarp over the back. He found one of t he flashlights he’d stashed there right away and turned it on, handing it to Sam.

[Pegasi]

Sam's eyes widened as Dean took the protective tarp off the back of the truck, telling him about how he went 'shopping' and got him clothes and stuff. So Dean's little run had been to get supplies? Why could they do that together? But it felt nice to know that even though Dean had run from him, he hadn't stopped thinking about him.

At the very least, it was something to hold on to.

He took the flashlight Dean handed him, looking at it for a moment. "I've had a while to think about this, and I think what may have happened is that most of the population was wiped out. Like maybe ninety percent of it. The rest... they have to be pretty damn terrified, right? Maybe they're even injured..." Sam said, thinking out loud as looked at Dean for the first time since he had been back. He made sure to keep the beam of light directed away from Dean's face, but he could see his brother's features anyway. "I doubt they woke up disoriented but without a scratch right in the middle of the blast zone," Sam joked flatly.

"Point is... there must be other people... we'll just have to look hard for them, specially if they've gone into hiding," Sam said softly. He looked at the supplies Dean had gotten, and he thought about how fucked up they were that Sam had collected all that food for Dean that Dean hadn't even touched, and then Dean had left him to go get even more supplies for Sam when all Sam wanted was for Dean to just stay with him.

"So... what now?" Sam asked, because Dean was the one who owned the road. He knew where to go and how to get them there. He always had. Sam was the one who worked out the logistics of surviving once they got there. Not to mention, he was very afraid that one wrong word and Dean was going to leave him again. So his one question was actually a lot of questions, but it was up to Dean to decide which one to answer.

[Ithiel Dragon]

As Dean dug through the back of the truck, trying to find the duffel he’d packed with clothes that would fit Sam, his brother began babbling on about his theories of what might have happened. Dean couldn’t help but sigh softly.

His brother had been watching way too many god damned stereotypical apocalypse, end of the world, movies. Where the hell was Sam getting his ‘numbers’ from after all? Ninety percent? His brother had no way of knowing that. Just like they had no way of knowing there were really any people left either.

Sam had seen just as much of the devastation as Dean had. His brother had no more proof that anyone else had survived than Dean had. The only other living things they’d seen were a handful of flies and, if he believed Sam, a deer. What did that mean? Nothing really. It was just as likely whatever Lucifer and Michael had thrown at each other trying to kill each other had only affected humans and left animals untouched.

Sure, Dean thought, he hoped, there were people left alive other than themselves, but he didn’t know. They just didn’t know anything. The not knowing must be even worse for Sam because his brother was just one of those people who always had to know what was going on. Even when he was a kid he never stopped asking questions, needing to know everything about any little thing. It had delighted his brother’s teachers and frustrated their father, especially when Sam started asking questions about what their dad really did.

He knew his brother was always in ‘research mode’ but unfortunately it didn’t’ really do them any good right now. All they had were questions with no answers and jumping to conclusions was just as bad as knowing jack shit.

Finally Dean found the bag he was looking for and pulled it out, handing it over to his brother. He also found the bag he’d thrown a lot of the supplies like matches, candles, the camping stove and shit. Dean figured since he hadn’t seen any lights anywhere for miles as he’d been driving back the power must be out here too. Dean hefted the bag of supplies and tied the tarp back down tightly to protect the rest.

“I told you, I want to go to South Dakota.” Dean answered his brother’s question. Even though he had returned, that hadn’t changed. He needed to know. Even if all they found was a body... he needed to know for sure if Bobby was dead.

“There’s no point leaving now, the roads are almost impossible to drive. We can leave in the morning.” Dean continued, then started to head past his brother back into the motel room. He didn’t know if that was the answer that Sam wanted, or what, but it was the only one he could give at this point.

[Pegasi]

Once upon a time, Sam had been able to read Dean. Not as well as Dean had been able to read Sam, of course, but still. Dean hadn't been this much of an enigma, and he certainly had never questioned Dean's feelings towards him. Now though, he constantly felt as though Dean hated him, and sure he could understand why, but that didn't make him feel all that better.

Not that his feelings mattered. He had pretty much brought it on himself. Sure, he had his excuses. He really had believed Lucifer when he said he won't harm Dean. He had said yes only to benefit Dean, and nothing more. The rest of the world could go to hell. And like everything else in his life, this had backfired on him as well. Not only did he end up hurting Dean, it happened by his own hands. So of course Dean hates him. He has every right to. That didn't mean that Sam didn't feel like throwing himself off a cliff all the time.

Dean had already left him twice, and even now after returning, it seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

Sam wondered how long they could keep at it before they went their separate ways.

He nodded in reply to Dean's answers, feeling a little like he had been talking to a wall earlier. Anyway, as long as Dean was here, Sam could deal. So he grabbed the duffel Dean gave him and held it tight, following Dean to the motel room.

He didn't say much, because he really had nothing to say. If he did, he was sure he'd either have Dean just stare at him blankly like Sam was spouting nonsense, or he would twist his words to mean something else and take it on himself and turn Sam into a monster. But if he said nothing, Dean would assume he was moping, but at least that was better than Dean looking at him like an idiot or a monster. Sam will take moping over that.

He lit a candle and put it on the table, letting the dull orange illuminate the room, casting shadows everywhere.

"Get some rest," Sam said softly. "I'm out by the pool. It's cooler outside," Sam said by way of explanation. Normally, he would has asked Dean to accompany him, but right now Sam figured that it would be equivalent to asking Dean to hang himself, so he didn't bother. "I'll be back in a little bit," he added before heading to the door. He was calm right now, and he was relaxed. He wondered if he was giving up, or if he was starting to get used to failing all the damn time.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Outside… outside where there was nothing but death with the stench of rotting flesh everywhere. That’s where Sam would rather be than in the room with him? Dean merely sighed heavily, dropping the duffel he’d carried into the motel room onto ‘his’ bed. Not like he really planned on using it.

“Whatever.” He told his brother as he unzipped the duffel and started taking things out and laying them out on the bed.

He’d just kind of haphazardly thrown things in the bags on his little shopping trip and had hardly bothered to organize any of it. They needed to know exactly how much they had of everything, from batteries and candles, to ammo, and food. Might as well do that now and start loading everything into the SUV. The SUV was in better shape than the truck and probably would be better if they had to go off road at any point, plus they wouldn’t have to worry about the stuff if it rained.

Dean knew he’d upset Sam again somehow, he wasn’t stupid, though he wasn’t exactly sure how this time. Because he hadn’t gotten all excited about his post apocalyptic theories? Sam was the one who’d told him not to get so worked up over a bunch of flies, so why should Dean get all worked up over Sam’s supposed deer sighting?

Ok, so maybe he was being a bit unfair, but it wasn’t just that, it was Sam’s jumping to conclusions. Less than a day ago Sam was sure they were the only two left and had completely discounted his idea that there even might be people alive. Now all of a sudden Sam had fucking numbers to back his theories up? It was just idiotic and Sam had to know it was idiotic, but he was just saying what he thought his fucked up suicidal brother wanted to hear.

Fine. He was fucked up. Really fucked up. But he wasn’t a child. He didn’t need to be coddled. As he heard the door to the motel room shut he realized that Sam hadn’t even bothered to change. Dean sighed again and kept working. At least having something to do helped keep his mind off of just how much everything was fucked up.

[Pegasi]

Sam sat down near the pool again, noticing now that his jeans were torn over his knees. He fingered a hole, thinking about how once in college he had torn his jeans on purpose to look 'cool'. It was so fucked up now, that there wouldn't ever be anything 'cool' again. No one would ever start another weird fad or trend. No one would ever make a new album, or a new movie. There wouldn't ever be new songs, or new books, or anything.

There were no more people...

Sam sighed. He knew that. Of course he knew that. But somehow, the fact never stopped surprising him.

His mind refused to wrap around it, though. There had to be more people, even if they found only one or two. But there had to be more survivors. He tried to think... find a way to somehow contact those survivors, but for some reason his mind was blank. He couldn't think. He had always had ideas before, always something to ponder, but right now he was blank, and he found it relaxing.

At this very moment, there was no guilt in his heart, no pain, no sadness, no loss. He was just existing, and it felt good. When thoughts of Dean came floating in, he'd remember how close they had been. He remembered Dean calling him a bitch, and Sam responding with jerk. He remembered Dean's laugh, his hugs, his gentle hands as they took care of him. He remembered Dean as a twelve year old, taking care of him when he was himself a child too. Sam thought of the day Dean broke into his apartment, asking for beer but having come for Sam.

The memories made Sam smile, and they made him glad that Dean was still here, even if he wasn't the same. Sure, that thought itself was saddening, but if given the choice of having Dean like this and not having Dean at all, Sam would always pick Dean.

So why was he complaining now?

Sam stood up, shaking his head. He had to stop moping. He had to stop letting Dean's silences get to him. He had to stop acting like a victim and start helping Dean. He took a deep, stench filled breath, and then decided that sure, it sounded easy, but it was going to be damn hard. He'll try his best though.

So he headed back to the room, deciding that he'll try his level best to not give Dean another reason to run away. Or he would have... if he didn't suddenly have his vision narrow on the way there, and pass out just around the corner to the room. His last thought was hoping he'd wake up before Dean found him, because this was going to annoy his brother.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean the contents of another duffle open and strewn over the surface of the bed and a notepad beside him with a list of items and scrawled numbers he was using to keep track of it all. Food. Clothes. Batteries. Candles. Whatever else he’d gotten. All reduced to numbers. How much they had. How much they could use. How long would it last if they didn’t restock. Somehow it was easier to think of it all in numbers.

When he was done with this duffel he repacked everything more carefully than he’d thrown the contents into the bags at Walmart and brought it out to the SUV, four more bags already stacked inside the back. He had several more bags left under the tarp in the back of the truck and he was tired, but certainly not tired enough to attempt to sleep yet. He probably wouldn’t be that tired for another few days yet.

Five bags. Fifteen minutes to a half hour thoroughly going through and taking inventory of everything. Two hours. And still Sam hadn’t come back.

Dean grabbed another heavy bag out from the back of the truck and headed back into the motel room. Maybe he shouldn’t have come back after all. Sam had seemed so relieved to see him at first, but then his brother couldn’t seem to get away from him fast enough. Did he deserve anything less? Not really, no.

This bag contained the weapons and ammo he’d stolen from the store. Briefly Dean wondered if it was still considered stealing if there was no one left around who gave a damn. Dean went through this bag even more carefully than the others. Counting each bullet in the boxes, just to make sure the numbers on the boxes were correct.

Even as much as he’d gotten it still felt pathetically inadequate to the arsenal they’d had in the trunk of the Impala. The rosaries, the holy water, the silver bullets, the colt, the sawed off shotgun he’d made when he was twelve, dad’s journal… all gone. They could get weapons and tools to replace what they’d lost, hell they might even find a somewhat functioning wreck of an Impala he could fix up, but it would never be the same.

It took him another hour to go through the bag of weapons but still Sam hadn’t returned. At one time maybe Dean would have gone looking for the younger man… but not now. Dean remembered all too well what happened the last time he’d done that.

I wish you hadn’t seen this, Dean…

A shudder passed through him even though there was no draft in the motel room.

[Pegasi]

Consciousness came slowly to him, and it came in breaks and pieces. At one point, he was awake, eyes fluttering but unable to open, his brain screaming at his arms and legs to move, but they wouldn't. It was barely a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity until Sam managed to force a twitch out of his finger, and like a spell breaking he was able to move again. He rolled over to his stomach, getting his hands under him to try and sit up, but his muscles were shaking and his head was light. The small movement made the world spin around him, and he was left feeling nauseated. He wrapped his arms around his stomach that was starting to cramp a little as he sat there with his knees folded under him.

It was lucky Dean hadn't seen. Sam didn't want him to. He didn't want to cause any more trouble for his brother.

He reached out a shaky hand to place against the nearest wall, giving himself support as he stood up on weak legs. He really hoped this was a one time thing, because if he was getting sick or if he had contracted some illness, it would be disastrous. Not only was it impossible to get them medical help if anything outside of dehydration or general every day sicknesses happened, but with the loss of just one of them, the other will be left entirely alone.

"Focus," Sam whispered fiercely to himself. "You're not sick. You feel perfectly fine. There's no pain, and no weakness. It's all just in your head. Shake it off." Relief returned to his body as he forced the weakness to the back of his mind. His hands and legs still tingled uncomfortably, but some sleep would take care of that. Now all he had to do was walk into that room, back straight and stride sure, and go to bed. There's no reason Dean has to find out about his little meeting with the pavement.

Breathing deeply, Sam started walking with sure steps towards the motel room, ignoring the way the world started to spin just so slightly, but one hand on the wall made sure he was constantly oriented. In a single, fluid movement, Sam opened the motel room door and stepped in, keeping his eyes low in case they gave away his dizziness. He was surprised by Dean still awake, working on bags and inventory... and he felt like an ass. He should have been helping, instead he had been outside, moping.

Sometimes, Sam couldn't even stand himself, how would he expect Dean to?

"Wow..." Sam said softly, deciding to show his appreciation for the amount of work Dean had done. "Now I feel like an ass," Sam said, throwing Dean a small, lopsided grin as he reached for some water, thinking that water will probably make him feel better, but his weakness was already leaving and Sam was glad for it. "Need any help?"