@spn20fest Week 4: Two of Us Against the World
Sam wanted Dean to leave, he did—to save himself, to leave Sam in this sterile room to rage and thrash and slit his wrists with broken glass and bleed out his poisoned blood. Or whatever it was that Croatoan zombies did when they stopped being themselves and instead joined the stepford-asshole hive mind.
But when Dean locked them both in, Sam let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Dean wasn’t going to save himself; he wasn’t going to leave him.
Sam hated that he was glad. Was the virus already affecting him? Spreading through his veins, making him the vector of his brother’s destruction? Or corruption?
Sam felt a recklessness bubbling up. “Dean, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here.” Sam wanted to infect Dean with his sickness.
“You can keep going.” Sam wanted to hold him close and never let go.
“Who says I want to?”
Sam took a step forward—
There was a knock on the door.
Hours later, after the doctor gave him the all-clear—no virus, no effect at all, actually—Sam looked at his brother and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Because if it wasn’t an illness that made him want Dean this way, then it was just Sam.
It didn’t occur to him to wonder what Dean was thinking when he locked that door on the outside world.
