So here I am again with another short-ish one. :P

I was really moved by Dean and Sam's arguments during Metamorphosis and I really wanted to get inside Dean's head and see how he was feeling after that episode was over. 'Cause I mean... there was so much left unsaid. And poor Dean, I really feel so bad for him, he's got so much stuff weighing him down! The poor boy, honestly.

Anyways, here it is... hope everybody likes :)

Disclaimer: Darn it, they STILL don't belong to me.

Lyrics and title are from the John Mayer song "Say What You Need to Say"

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Dean tilted his head a little, so he could see Sam where he lay in the next bed. Sam, one long sasquatch arm hanging over the side of the bed onto the floor, was asleep, his face turned away from Dean.

Dean tried not to feel irritated that Sam was asleep and he wasn't. It wasn't Sam's fault. Well actually it was. A little bit, anyway. Okay, quite a bit. Cause God knew, he was tired. But he just couldn't seem to sleep. Not after the past couple of days. With that stupid Rugaru and getting his head smashed on a table… but those things even didn't really have that much to do with it. His restlessness mostly had to do with Sam, and their yelling matches that had happened a couple of days ago. And the quiet – but no less disturbing – talk in the car after the hunt.

He guessed the real reason why he wasn't sleeping was pretty obvious, even though he tried to deny it.

He was afraid Sam was going to leave again. The crippling fear he'd felt when… when Castiel had brought him back from the past and waiting for him was… not Sam. An empty bed. Not only had it been empty, it was completely untouched. Now Sam was kind of a neat-freak. But even he couldn't straighten up a bed to the point of it not looking layed in at all – not those motel beds. You could always tell when they'd been used, at least by the pillows. And that one hadn't. Which meant Sam hadn't even layed in it once. Which meant that he'd been planning to leave all along.

Dean's chest tightened at the thought. He wasn't going to even pretend for a second that it didn't hurt – Sam leaving every night, to do whatever the hell he was doing. Exorcising demons, or something. With his mind. Yeah, it hurt a lot. Not just the lies. God knows those hurt more than he'd like to admit. But - Dean felt almost selfish thinking it – he'd just got out of Hell a couple of weeks ago. And already, Sam was leaving? Not staying to make sure Dean was okay? That nothing was going to get him and drag him back to Hell?

Dean shook his head a little, throwing away the thoughts. Just because he would've done that – kept an all night vigil – if Sam had just been brought back from Hell, didn't mean Sam would do the same. As much as they were brothers, and they had so much in common, there were certain things about them that would never, ever be the same. Of course.

Dean would never have left Sam here by himself, with not even a note in case he woke up. It really hurt that Sam had left. Again.

Sure, he'd been planning to come back. But the point was… he'd left. No note. And lies everywhere.

"So… you been using your freaky ESP stuff?"

"No."

"Sure about that? Now that you've got immunity, whatever the hell that is… just wondering what other weirdo crack you got going on."

"Nothing, Dean you didn't want me to go down that road, so I didn't go down that road. I mean it was practically you're dying wish."

Just showed how much his dying wish meant to Sam. All lies, everything. Without warning, tears blurred his eyes and he shot out of bed as fast as he could. I am SO not going to sit here and cry. What if Sam wakes up?

He grabbed his jacket and crept out of the room. It was icy outside, and Dean's breath hung in the air in front of him as he walked slowly down the row of doors, his shoulders hunched, chin down.

Walkin' like a one man army

Fightin' with the shadows in your head

He just needed to leave for a second, get away from the bad feelings.

Ha. Get away from the bad feelings. As if that was even possible. The bad feelings followed him wherever he went.

"What about Ruby? Where's she?"

"Dead, for now."

That was a lie too. Ruby wasn't dead, she wasn't gone. She was right there, all along. She'd been with Sam when Dean had first gone back to him, just hours after he'd been pulled from Hell. She'd been there, pushing Sam to do weird stuff and trying to make him into some… some freak that could exorcise demons with his mind. Who could even do that? It scared him more than he liked to admit.

And then when he found out – when he caught them in the act – Ruby acted like – like he, like Dean was the one who was doing something wrong. He was the one who wasn't supposed to be there. While it was Ruby who wasn't supposed to be there. It was like the more she came around, the more she pushed her way in, the further she was pushing him and his brother apart.

Take out of your wasted honour

Every little past frustration

The feeling of being unwanted crept back into his head again, the tears came back. The parking lot was just a blur of black and yellow from the lights in front of him.

What's the point of staying? Sam won't want me around for any of this "exorcising demons with his mind" crap. That's for him and Ruby. And, to be honest, would I want to be around for any of it? It scares the crap out of me. And I freaking hate Ruby. And… he lied to me about so much stuff, what if he lied to me about other stuff too? Like did he really try that hard to get me out of Hell? Or was he just playing around with Ruby the whole time?

STOP IT. He stopped that thought immediately. He knew Sam hadn't lied to him about that. He knew. Because he'd seen the truth in Sam's eyes, when he'd explained how he'd tried everything to get him out of Hell… he'd not lied about that.

And he knew without even the slightest doubt, he would never leave Sam. He couldn't. He had to save Sam.

And anyway, where would he be without Sam? He couldn't live without Sam. Wouldn't.

But Sam had been lying. Back there, in the car. About not using his powers anymore. He knew it. He'd known his brother for too long… too much time spent together… to not know when his brother was lying. That decision was made way too quickly… no way he'd change his mind that fast… not after five months of using those stupid powers. So there it was again… another lie.

He stopped, having walked all the way back to their own motel room again, and paused, just standing still, breathing in the cold night air even as it burned his lungs and chest.

"Dean?"

Dean jumped about a foot in the air and whirled around, wide eyes taking in Sam, who was standing with the door open, leaning against the frame.

"Holy crap, Sam! Warn a guy, can't you?" Dean blinked frantically, hoping the tears were gone and his eyes weren't red.

Sam just looked at him. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some air, what does it look like?"

Dean's sarcasm was back full force, hiding the heart-breaking pain deep inside him.

Have no fear for givin' in

Have no fear for givin' over

Sam wasn't moved. "It's freezing out here, man. Get back in here before you catch something."

"I survived Hell and you're worried about me catching something?" Dean couldn't resist saying, but he followed Sam inside anyway.

Sam closed the door behind him and then turned to look at Dean.

"What were you doing, Dean?"

"I already told you, sasquatch," Dean said, not looking at Sam and instead walking to his bed and sitting down.

"Getting some air at three o' clock in the morning?" Sam looked at him disbelievingly, then his voice softened. "Dean, I'm sorry, man."

Dean glanced at him. "Wow, random. For what?" He curled his hands into fists, pulling them inside his jacket sleeves to warm them up.

"Everything. I should have told you…" Sam waved a hand vaguely in the air, like he couldn't figure out what else to say.

"You already said that Sam," Dean said quietly. Suddenly he was tired, bone-tired, and all he wanted was to crawl into bed and go to sleep.

"I know I did, I just… I just want you to know I really am sorry, Dean. I'm not just saying it." Sam was giving him the old puppy-eyes look, the please-forgive-me look.

Dean hated that look. Because it always made him want to forgive Sam, no matter how angry he was. But this time… even though the look made him want to forgive Sam, he couldn't. Not quite. Not this time.

Some hurts just ran too deep… some wounds took longer to heal. And this one… this one was a knife-wound, right to the heart. It was going to take a while.

Suddenly Sam was beside him, sitting down on the bed next to him.

"Dude!" Dean protested, instantly starting to move away, but Sam grabbed his arm.

"Dean, can you just… wait? Just stop for a second. I know you're mad, okay? I'd be mad too. I mean, I hated it when you kept that secret from me, what Dad said. I was really pissed at you too. But you remember how that was? How you kept that secret from me so that it wouldn't hurt me? Well it's the same here, Dean, I kept it from you cause I didn't want to scare you, I didn't want to hurt you. Not because I didn't want you around. Dean… I always want you around. Okay? I just want you to know that."

He squeezed Dean's shoulder lightly, and stood up, heading back to his own bed and laying back down, this time laying on his back.

To Dean's horror he felt tears flood his eyes again and blinked rapidly, quickly looking away so Sam couldn't see his face. But this time, they were tears of… relief, maybe? Because Dean knew, he knew better than he knew anything else in the world, that no matter what happened, no matter how many fights they got into or how many things Sam kept from him, his brother loved him.

So maybe, just maybe… even though this wound was going to take a long time to heal – and it was sure to scar - maybe he could forgive Sam a little.

Even if your hands are shaking

And your faith is broken

Even as the eyes are closing

Do it with a heart wide open

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Thanks for reading :)

Please let me know what you thought on the way out. I do love reviews :)

Catch you on the flipside,

Deanandhisimpala