Another diner in the middle of nowhere forced Sam to sit across from Dean, facing him. Sam knew what was coming and tensed in the seat. He ordered a salad, while Dean ordered his usual mess of grease.
Dean knew that they had to talk. He had to find out or it was going to drive him insane. He had already decided that if they couldn't get this out in the open tonight, he was taking Sammy to Bobby. Bobby was the only other person in the world who had a chance to get this out of him.
Sam tried to look out the window, purposely avoiding Dean's gaze. It was times like these when he really hated that they spent every hour of the day together. Their only reprieve from each other was Bobby.
"You going to eat or not Sammy?" Dean asked, trying to evoke any sort of reaction out of his brother. This scared him. His Sammy was the exact opposite of him. His Sammy was the one always wanting talk about their feelings. His Sammy wouldn't leave him out of whatever was going on in that head of his.
"Yea, guess." Sam said, turning to his salad.
"I still can't believe you eat that health crap, Samantha."
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
The familiarity of the banter had Sam calming down, and Dean saw it. That was exactly what Dean needed.
Dean knew he finally had Sammy, when he heard the aggravated, "Dean."
"What happened Sammy? Why didn't you tell me what was happening?"
Dean could see the low murmurs coming out of Sam's mouth, and Dean knew that Sammy was cursing up a storm under his breath.
Sam took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. Then, he took another, before another. "It wasn't all that big a deal at first. He didn't mean to do it. He tried to make up for it, and I would be lying not to say that it was a thoughtless comment from me that started it."
Dean was finding it harder to keep his calm under the evasive answer Sammy had given him. Dean knew Sammy and Dad had never gotten along, and there were always arguments.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean asked once again.
"I just…it was…Damn, Dean…I thought I could handle it myself." Sam stumbled, turning back to stare out the window.
Dean knew there was more to this, and Sam's evasiveness was really getting on his last nerve, "Why? Sam, why?" His voice had lowered considerably, and he hated that his brother could read him so well, when he saw the look in Sammy's eyes.
He hadn't seen that look since the day Sam left for Stanford. He just looked tired, pale. Dean knew instinctively that he wasn't going to like the answer. Sam's face told him that much.
That was one of the reasons, he was having so much trouble with the idea that he never knew. He knew his Sammy inside and out. He had practically raised him. Dean had been the one to make him dinner, even if it was just Spaghetti-Os. Dean had saved him from school bullies. Dean had even helped him get into Stanford, after his Sammy explained how tired he was of fighting with Dad.
This wasn't his Sammy. This wasn't the Sammy he knew and that scared Dean more than he'd ever be willing to admit.
Sam sighed, knowing it had to be said. The uncomfortable silences weren't going to stop until he did. Dean was not going to let him out of his sight until this was cleared up, and Sam knew Dean well enough to know that he was near his wit's end.
He was practically pulling out his own hair, which meant it wouldn't be long until he brought Bobby into this. Dean would hit the roof if he knew that Bobby knew before he did.
Bobby, a surrogate father to the both of them, had helped take care of Sam after Dad would get out of control. The very same Bobby who had tried to beat some sense into his Dad several times after taking care of Sam. In fact, Bobby had been the one that got his Dad into a program and took care of Dean and Sam while "John's on an important hunt."
He had to deal with this, no matter how much he wanted to just take off in the Impala.
"You had so much on your shoulders Dean." Sam began. "It was weighing on you. I saw that much. I thought….if you…." Sam gathered all the strength he could muster before turning to look his brother straight in the eye, breathing deeply.
"You couldn't handle anything else, Dean. Dad had already put the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it wasn't fair to you for me to add anything else."
Dean erupted, "Damn it Sammy! I could've helped. I would've stopped him. I'M SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND DAMN IT!"
The entire diner stopped to stare at Dean and Sam. Dean didn't notice it, too wired, angry. Dean was fuming.
Sam, on the other hand, had just realized why it was a bad idea to have this conversation in a small town diner. Some people were staring at them with disgust, while others just gawked at their openness at least that was what Sam guessed. The rest of the diner thought they were a couple.
"Calm down Dean." Sam nearly whispered, and Dean looked around.
"Sorry. Go back to your meals."
"Plus Dean you were the one that finally stopped it anyway, without knowing it even. You started getting in the middle of the arguments. He would've never touched his 'perfect little soldier'. You protected me without ever knowing you were doing it or who you were protecting me from in the first place."
"That's not good enough Sam. You should've told me." Dean answered, slightly deflated, and somewhat happy to know he'd helped in some way.
It didn't fix it, but it made it better
Maybe, just maybe, that's all his Sammy needed from him was someone to make it better.
His brother deserved that.