Sam Winchester (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _bitch) wrote, |
Small half-smile, slight cringe when Dean jostles at him, makes the soreness in his ribs flare back up as if the pain thinks maybe he forgot it was there already, and Sam just stays where he is while Dean goes over and drops down onto one of the beds.
He wonders if he could get away with just going. He’s between Dean and the door, and by the time his brother realized he was escaping, he’d already be outside, at least... but his bag got tossed down during the scuffle, and it’s over there near Dean’s bed, and so he’d have to go all the way over there and then to the door, and Dean would notice that. And Sam isn’t really up for the inevitable Round Two that would probably cause, right now.
He’s trying to figure out how to continue the debate, to convince Dean to let him leave in a way that won’t turn into another fistfight, when his brother speaks, “I'll tell him I got myself banned from the diner and you had to take over the supply runs,” and it takes a second for Sam to understand the words - they’re too fast for him to process immediately, and then it just sounds so random, because, seriously, what? And then he gets it, he gets what Dean’s offering - giving him an excuse to leave the room, offering to take the blame for him disobeying orders.
He still doesn’t understand why his brother thinks they even need an excuse, why they can’t leave the room except for school and runs to get food, why Dad thinks that’s unsafe when the motel they’re staying in is probably overrun with criminals and hookers and millions of germs and things, and probably mutant roaches - it’s probably more dangerous in here than it is walking to the library, or going out and seeing a movie, or almost anything they might want to do. Never mind that the two of them stuck in a small space together for more than a day or two always ends up in bad moods and tension you could shoot in the face and sometimes prank wars to break the monotony while they both go stir crazy.
He moves forward to get his bag, swings it up and onto his shoulder, shifting the strap until it settles comfortably enough, doesn’t press on any of his sore spots. Clears his throat, swallows. “How is that any less a lie than not saying anything at all?”
He’s not going to complain about it if Dean wants to throw himself under the bus, though. It’s his own choice. It’s just, you know, completely illogical and more than a little stupid. But other than that, Sam’s perfectly fine with it, if that's what his brother wants to do.