Hi (: I know I haven't updated in FOREVER. But here is a NEW CHAPTER WOO! I'm so so so sorry, but this isn't Destiel... Just a plain ol' Supernatural One shot :) (woAH nOrMAlCY) So amyways. Here it goes... Let me know what you think!! ~~Kat
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“Dean,” Sam stated sternly, staring down at a yellow piece of paper. Dean didn’t notice him looking down, however, as he was busy researching on the laptop.
“Yeah,” Dean replied absentmindedly.
“Dean.” Sam repeated louder once more, now grabbing Dean’s attention. It was then that he looked up and saw what was in Sam’s hand, causing him to leap from his chair and attempt at snatching the document away. Sam had quick reflexes (most likely a result from hunting since he was twelve), and used his monsterous height to hold it up from his brother easily.
“Where the hell did you find that?” Dean asked, jumping up and snatching the paper away from Sam.
Sam ignored him and stared at his brother, only now noticing the deep circles under his eyes and how pale he had gotten recently. Well. Darker and paler than usual.
“Dean,” he whispered, looking down at the man who was stupidly hiding the paper behind his back.
“Don’t fucking talk to me like that,” Dean growled. His jawbone tightened and he crumpled up the paper and threw it into the fireplace. “And don’t bring it up. We’re not talking about this.”
“But De-“
“No, Sammy. We’re done.”
“Dean, it-“
“I said we’re done!” He shouted, slamming his fist down on the table. Sam fell silent again. He sat down quietly in a chair nearby. He swallowed hard.
It went silent for a moment; only the gentle popping of the fireplace filled the study of the bunker. Sam stared down at the floor, thinking about what all this could mean. He knew they needed to talk. He knew Dean needed to talk. But, of course, Dean was Dean.
And Dean never talked.
The words he had seen repeated over and over again in Sam's mind.
Increase in cellular growth.
Tumor.
Liver failure.
After a few moments, Sam tried to speak once more. He didn’t use a gentle tone he knew his brother would despise, but he also didn’t use a stern one either.
“Dean,” he began, pausing a moment to test if Dean would interrupt once more. He didn’t. “Dean, when did this happen?”
Dean kept staring at the ground distantly.
“Four weeks ago.”
Sam swore under his breath. He had gone four weeks without telling his own brother he had cancer.
“Why the hell did you keep this from me? You need to be treated, Dean. We could stop the spreading befor-“
“I can’t. It’s a fucking Stage III. Already past helping.”
The older man blinked to keep from allowing his emotions to control him too much. He took a deep breath in the way only Dean did, and ran his hand across his face.
“Okay. I know you need to know, and I know you won't leave it alone until I tell you.
"I went to go to the doc about... two months ago. It was when you were out with Cas to go check out that Hotel in the dijinn case in Minnesota. The doctor said they needed to run some tests and stuff, and so they did.”
Dean took another big breath and let it out slowly. He slowly sat down in the chair across from Sam. He loosly clasped his hands together on the table, and, staring down at them, continued explaining.
“I went back a week later, and the doc said he had found a tumor growing on my liver. He said,” –and Dean used his best ‘doctor voice’ for this impression- “it’s ‘generally caused by alcohol abuse.’ So of course I called bullshit. When we went up to Washington, I went to a hospital there and had them run more tests. And the results... Well, that would be what is burning over there."
Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He felt almost relieved to finally tell Sam what had been on his mind lately. He hasn't even told Cas or Kevin or anyone. He had to deal with the random weakness, the loss of vision, the exaustion all by himself. And honestly, he didn't want to. He didn't want to battle this one out on his own.
Sammy noticed Dean's solemn look. It was weird, but at that moment, it dawned on him. His brother was dying. And it was real this time. No soul-trading, no Angel-mojo, no anything. His body was failing him after all these years, and Sam realized he couldn't do anything about it.
And he had no fucking clue as what to do.
"Dean. We can get through this. We always do. We'll always survive. This time isn't any different." Sam nodded. Yet he knew he was trying to reassure himself more than Dean.
"Sammy... Man, this isn't one we can fight. It's not something we can kill or exorcise. This is a completely natural way to die. And, dammit, Sam, it feels nice to actually be freakin' normal for once." Dean sat bad in his seat and crossed his arms.
Sammy thought about this for a moment. This is what Dean deserves. Not death, necessarily, but just how normal it was. Dean deserves to go out a normal way. He deserves to have finally lived up his life and actually know when to expect his ending of it. And Sam found peace in that. Of course, the realization that Dean would be gone still hurt like hell, but he knew that he would move on. The Winchesters always do.
"So," Dean smirked. He hopped up from his seat and clasped his hand together, just like his usual self. "Wanna see my bucket list?"
