Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Jesse's house was still visible in the rear-view, Dean just wanted to get out of town.

Now that they were settled into the trip with hours spent on the move, with Dean's last meal, and last caffeine boost, far behind as well -- now he was ready to stop for a while. He could handle driving all night and being thrown into walls on their own, but both within twenty-four hours left him sore and stiff, and made Sam more annoying that usual. If they didn't have anything on their ass for the moment, which Dean didn't think they did, then they were exiting soon.

Sam just sat staring out his window, watching whatever town they'd just driven through give way to another long stretch of dark, flat countryside, and he didn't glance over when Dean looked his way.

"Lemme know if you see someplace good to stop," Dean said, and turned back to the road. He propped his left elbow on the door and stretched his right arm across the back of the seat. Sam shifted, barely a big enough movement for Dean to notice, but he didn't look away from the window.

"Stop to eat or stop for the night?"

"Either. Both." Dean shrugged. "If there's a diner and a motel right by each other, even better."

"Alright."

They went straight down the road for another half-hour before passing an exit sign with the fork and knife symbol. "There," Sam said, pointing, and Dean took them off the freeway immediately. They turned into the first parking lot, some mom and pop joint, and he almost tripped getting out of the car. Sam snorted but didn't mention it.

They were far enough from city light that stars filled the bits of sky visible between thick clouds. Dean pushed his hands against the small of his back and stretched, staring up. A semi roared down the freeway behind them. Dean rocked with the sound and looked up for a long moment before following Sam inside.

They both ordered the night's special without asking what it was, Dean getting a loaded baked potato with his and Sam a giant salad, and they laid into the food when it came out. Dean could hear Sam's fork scraping against his plate just as regularly as he heard his own, as if they were being timed on their performance. They finished at almost the same time, pushing their empty plates towards the center of the table and leaning back. They looked at each other from across the booth but Sam frowned a little when their eyes met. He glanced away, and Dean sighed and waited for it.

"Do you think telling him the truth was actually the right thing to do?" Sam picked up his fork again and traced circles on his plate with the tines.

"It's not like we can do anything about it now," Dean said.

Sam shrugged. "I mean, what Castiel said, about me not —"

"Hey," Dean said. His voice must have been sharper than he meant it to be because Sam looked right up, with that wounded expression in his eyes that meant he knew he was wrong and he thought he knew what was coming. Please, sir, could he have some more, and all that bullshit. "You didn't know the truth, not the entire thing. Cuz I've been thinking about that, too, and neither of us would have broken our seals if we'd known that's what we were doing."

Sam opened his mouth and drew breath, then deflated without saying whatever it was. You would have eventually, Dean, or something along those lines, followed directly by how that was Sam's fault, too. Dean shook his head.

"Nuh uh." Dean wrapped his hand around his glass of water but didn't pick it up. "If you'd known that's what Lilith was, you wouldn't have done it. And don't try to tell me otherwise."

"I wanted her dead," Sam said. "Kind of a lot."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Enough that you'd've ended the world to do it?" Sam pulled a face and shook his head immediately, and Dean pointed to him with one finger. "There's my point."

Sam watched him for a moment longer, then bit his lip and looked back down. "I just figured that I wished someone would have told me the truth from the beginning. All of it."

"It woulda fucked with your head," Dean said, after giving himself a moment to think through exactly why he'd kept stuff from Sam.

"Yeah, but then I could have done something about it, the right way." Sam closed his eyes. "Not just — I would have done it differently, if I'd known. I wanted to give him that chance."

Dean watched him a moment longer, then looked away. When their waitress passed by, he flagged her down for the check, and Sam hadn't looked up by the time she brought it.

"I'm not gonna say I wouldn't rather have him with Bobby," Dean said eventually, "but he's gonna kick ass at hiding, and that's the next best thing."

Sam shrugged.

"And if the demons do get to him, he's gonna remember how tonight went down."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, finally glancing up.

"That that demon possessed his mom — hell, someone he didn't even know was his mom until then — and tried to talk circles around him, but that you told him the truth." Dean shrugged. "Kids remember when people tell em the truth."

Sam looked at Dean's chest for a moment, then snorted and nodded. "Yeah, that's certainly right."

Dean pulled out his wallet and thumbed through his cash, going after enough for a tip. "We lie all the time, dude. You made a good call tonight."

Sam didn't answer, but he didn't hold his shoulders so close to his neck on the way to the car, either. Dean glanced up again before getting back behind the wheel and smiled a little at the stars above, distant but so clear.