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Sam Winchester (_bitch) wrote,

Sam’s at the door when Dean speaks, ready to throw it open, storm outside, and slam it closed behind him (slamming doors is a very satisfying feeling, okay? It’s not his fault he’s been trained to be a slightly more violent than average person since even before his teenage years began), but he pauses to hear what his brother’s going to say, because maybe he’s itching for a fight, alright? Maybe he wants this to be something to turn the frustratingly stifled flame of anger into something more closely resembling a blaze so he can actually do something about it.

>“... seriously, would it kill you not to act like a whiny bitch for one freakin' day? I'm the one who's going to get it in the neck when this is all over and the old man finds out that you're disobeying orders again. Just... call it a personal favour or whatever. I'd appreciate it.”

“He won’t ever even know if you don’t say anything, anyway,” he growls automatically, turns to look at his brother, can tell it’s a last ditch effort to get him to stay, but he doesn’t understand why. Why Dean and Dad think he can’t be setting foot outside a motel room without supervision. He’s not a kid anymore, and he’s not helpless, and it’s not like millions of other people do it every day or anything. Very few end up victims of random supernatural attacks, and even the more mundane things out there aren’t that big a risk. Especially when you think about how every other person ever has to deal with these things.

But he’s not allowed to go anywhere, and it just sucks. So, no, he’s not going to calm down and accept Dean’s plea, and he’s not going to feel guilty about it, either (or maybe he will, but he’ll pretend he doesn’t).

“It’s just the library. It’s not like I’m going to get mauled to death between the bookshelves, Dean.” He pauses, shrugs his shoulders, "And I have my gun." And a knife, and knowledge, and he's seriously not helpless.