#m-collins

because i'm writing chapter 5

and it's gonna be a long one

so if you have to go i understand

gee look at my blog

go read what i posted

Exposition: Sam Wesson, an upcoming senior in high school, spends his last summer (though he doesn’t know it) in California on the beach, where he meets a very interesting, very attractive boy who’s in California on vacation named Dean Winchester. They become good friends as the weeks pass, though Dean won’t tell him where he’s from. Dean leaves, and Sam misses him. His life gets even worse when his mother tells him that she got a job offer in Lawrence, Kansas and that they’re moving there and Sam will complete his senior year there.

Note: This chapter is Dean-centric, until the very end. As I was making the outline, Dean told me that he wanted a chance to explain himself. And I feel for the guy, you know? I guess we'll see if he can show you what's going on with him.

Chapter 4 - Love Has Flown

Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes as he hit the STOP button and stopped listening to his latest entry in his audio journal. He wasn't much of a writer, and just because he wasn't much for talking didn't mean he had nothing to say. It was just that, because he usually didn't talk a lot, it was difficult for him to make his thoughts seem coherent to other people. So he had an audio journal, because he was apparently one of the few people who were patient enough to wait for him to say what he wanted to say.

Like Sam. That was the subject of his latest audio journal entry, amidst his thoughts spoken aloud about the prospects of the soccer team and what songs the band were going to do at their next spot. Every other thought seemed to be a reference to Sam or about Sam, and it was making it hard for Dean to concentrate on anything else.

He sighed again and stood up, stretching, before getting a new cassette and replacing the cassette in the tape player. He hit REC and said, "Why is this so hard? It shouldn't be...Danny was right about that. But it is, and I don't know what to do. I can't just tell Zach that, and I don't even know that Sam wants anything to do with me any more." And that thought hurt, even though they'd only been friends.

They could only be friends. Dean hit STOP, and decided to let his brain run this already well-beaten train of thought; he'd talked in circles on too many of his supply of cassette tapes, which were starting to run low.

He spent a lot of time thinking, especially since his conversation with Danny after he and the guys had showed up at Danny's house at Zach's suggestion. Zach practically mooned over Anna at all hours of the day, but no one said a word about it, since only Dean ever risked Zach's ire. Dean was the only one safe enough to do so, and that made this situation that much more complicated.

Zach wasn't exactly gay-friendly, and even though Dean knew he wasn't gay, that thing about Sam might be enough to make Zach think otherwise. And Dean wouldn't be the one Zach went after. But Dean owed him so much...

He shook his head; no amount of thinking had gotten him past this fundamental issue, although he did recognize it as a choice between two people: Sam and Zach. Sam was...Sam. Dean didn't know how else to describe him. But Zach was Dean's Jake. The situation was a little different, but still. Zach was only looking out for Dean, and Dean wouldn't let him hurt someone to fulfill his protective instinct. 

Dean had to choose between the unknown (but Sam wasn't an unknown; not after that summer) and his best friend, the one who'd been there for him and had protected him. And he didn't know which to choose.

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He sees Sam a lot, since they're on the soccer team. And even though Dean went ahead and went to the vocational school, he visits the high school a lot, since most of his friends (the guys had all gone with him to vo-ed, but he had other friends, too) were still at the high school. And Sam was there.

He knew that Sam didn't deserve the way Dean was treating him, but he deserved being Zach's target even less. People had mostly forgotten how Dean and Zach became friends, but most of the students remembered in the vague way that teenagers remember their childhoods that you didn't tease Dean Winchester about anything, but especially about liking anyone other than girls. Because Zach would find out. 

Dean hated that his best friend had made himself such a threat, but he'd deal with it. But he wouldn't make Sam deal with it. He didn't want to "ruin" Sam, and placing him in that situation would definitely ruin him. 

But what was weird was that Sam seemed fine. He talked to people animatedly, showing that same easygoing, somewhat serious demeanor that Dean had seen for weeks and weeks on the beach. His eyes were bright and sharp, and if he ever looked distracted, no one noticed. But Dean did...if he and Sam were near each other.

One day, Dean sees Sam talking to Danny and watches him laugh and then duck and hide his head in Danny's shoulder while she patted his back. And Dean felt a sudden, very strong urge to take Sam's head and put it in his shoulder instead. He may be confused, but he wasn't stupid. He wanted to be around Sam, if not in a romantic sort of way (which Dean still wasn't sure about) then he wanted them to be friends. 

Later that week, they had a game, and they won. Afterward, Dean grabbed Sam's arm and said, "Hey, do you want to hang out? Celebrate the win?"

Sam had looked at him with a very...interesting expression, then shrugged and said, "Sure, I guess. What did you have in mind?"

Dean had already decided what he wanted to do. "Do you want to go see the new movie that's playing?"

Another shrug. Maybe I did ruin him, Dean thought. But maybe I only ruined him for me. He didn't want to believe that, not after he'd just now gotten over the internal conflict of whether or not to associate with Sam or leave him alone. 

The movie would tell.

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Dean went and picked Sam up from his house with little fanfare, and Sam acted cool and aloof the entire time, like they were acquaintances. This hurt, but Dean supposed it made sense. And even if it didn't to him, this must be how Sam felt, maybe still felt. This was ridiculous, and Dean wanted to change his mind, but they were already on their way to the theater.

The car ride was silent, Sam looking out the window, Dean staring at the road. Dean hated it. But Sam didn't seem at all interested in having a conversation about much of anything. Given that Dean had pretty much pretended he'd never met Sam before, he guessed that Sam had the right not to want to talk. But still, if he didn't want to be around Dean unless they were at practice or a game, why had he said that he'd go see a movie?

This didn't make any sense. But Dean said nothing as he paid for their tickets and then led Sam to the right theater.

They settled into their seats, and the previews began almost immediately; they had awesome timing. Dean mentioned this, and Sam chuckled, which gave Dean hope. Maybe Sam wasn't ruined. 

The movie was actually pretty good. It had comedy, plot, and lots of explosions, and Dean found that he was enjoying himself immensely. And Sam was laughing with him at all the same parts, and this was what they were supposed to be doing. They were really good friends. Why had Dean been so worried about associating with Sam?

There was nothing more than camaraderie here. 

Vaguely, Dean became aware of a pressure on his hand that wasn't the armrest. When he looked down, he saw that he and Sam had linked hands. In an instant, every single worry that Dean had had about keeping Sam from Zach and the raging internal debate between Sam and Zach came crashing down on him. To his credit, he extricated his hand gently from Sam's instead of yanking it free in his near-panic.

However, judging from Sam's expression, only just visible in the dim light, Dean may as well have yanked his hand away and then jumped up onto the ceiling. Dean could register the shock and hurt, but that was quickly replaced by an expression that Dean hoped he was seeing wrong. Sam had a look of jaded resignation, and that meant that Dean might have just ruined everything, and he knew that he was being hysterical, but this was so important, and he wanted to be sure before he did something that could hurt Sam.

But now Sam was leaving hurriedly, and Dean went after him. He had to.

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"Sam!"

Sam stopped so suddenly, Dean almost ran into him, and Dean had a trace memory of their collision in the water when he'd thought Sam was drowning, but then Sam was staring at him expectantly. No, that wasn't the right word. Sam was glaring, but he was glaring at a point just over Dean's shoulder. 

After they stood a few moments in silence, Sam finally let out a harsh breath and said, "Dean, I can’t do this. For three months now, you’ve been acting like you don’t have the slightest idea who I am, though I don’t know how you could’ve forgotten this summer. What is it that you want from me?”

“I…we can’t be friends at all?”

“Dean, if we were going to be friends, it would’ve been easier had you treated me like a friend before now. I’d figured that you didn’t want to be associated with me, and I even figured out why.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Then Dean remembered what Danny had said, about Sam thinking that Dean wanted nothing to do with him because he was...gay. 

“Dean, you’re many things, but an idiot isn’t one of them. You know why you don’t want to be around me just as well as I do. And you know what? I don’t care.” And even though Dean had forcefully ignored Sam for the past three months, he'd been doing it because he didn't want to see Sam hurt. But that cold, careless dismissal that Sam had just passed on Dean showed him that he'd hurt Sam anyway. 

But Dean didn't want Sam that way! ...He didn't think. He didn't know, and with the added fear of Zach hurting Sam it made it that much more difficult to come to a clear conclusion.

But Sam was walking away now, getting into Dean's car, and it hit Dean that maybe, probably, even if he did reach a clear conclusion, Sam wouldn't be interested in hearing it or letting Dean act on it. Three months was too long a wait for him, and after Dean's momentary lapse into fear-based instinct, Dean may as well have said, "Not a snowball's chance in Hell."

And he still didn't know if he was being melodramatic, but he was unsure, and he didn't want to lose Sam entirely, but it looked like he had, and he didn't want to accept that. But Sam didn't seem to want to give him any other option.

Dean sighed and got into the car and began the equally silent drive back to Sam's house. But this silence was worse than the one they'd been in when they'd left. Much worse. 

Sam got out of the car and walked into his house without a word or a backward glance, and Dean thought, That's really it, then.

I ruined him.

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Sam walked into his house, and that was when he let the tears fall. Why had he even tried to hope, why had he thought that maybe, just maybe, the Dean from the beach had finally shown up again?

He hadn't meant to hold Dean's hand; he'd grabbed it when a particularly explosive part of the movie startled him, and then had gotten so absorbed in the movie that he'd forgotten all about it. Until Dean had pulled his hand away.

And then Sam remembered that Dean had apparently changed his mind, and that Sam being gay mattered a whole lot, and that Dean didn't want to associate too closely with him. 

And then Dean had tried to ask if they couldn't even be friends. After treating Sam like a...like a leftover grain of sand that you flicked off because it wasn't worth washing your leg all over again. And then...pretending that he had no clue why he'd cut Sam away from him so cleanly...

Sam wanted to see his mom. She'd know what to say.

He burst into her room, and she was up immediately, wrapping her in his arms. He let her, crying and feeling her shirt get wetter and wetter. "Oh baby, it'll be okay. You'll be okay." There was that pragmatism...but this time, Sam wanted to hear it. Needed to hear it. He needed to know with confidence that he'd be okay, because honestly, he wasn't sure.

He missed Jake. Jake would've protected him from this.

Sam didn't know how long they'd stood there, his sobs eventually subsiding to intermittent, tiny gasps, while his mother made soothing, crooning sounds, but finally Sam felt in control enough to say, "Sorry I ruined your shirt, Mom."

"You know better than that, baby," Mary replied gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Can I call Dan and have her come over?" Sam replied timidly. "I just..."

"Of course you can, honey, if she's up, then we'll go over right now and get her and then we'll come back and we'll talk all you want, okay?" Sam nodded, wiping his eyes and getting out his cell phone. He sent a quick text.

You up?

Yeah, babe, you know I'm a night owl. What's up?

Wanna come over?

...Yeah.

We'll come get you.

They got to Dan's house, and Sam got out just as Dan stepped off her porch. The tears came all over again, and he was caught in another embrace, listening to more soothing words and promises that it'd be okay.

He'd be okay.