Title: Brother Mine
Author: Jinni (email@example.com)
Disclaimer: All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al. All things Dark Angel belong to Fox, et al.
Notes: A follow-up to Not the Golden Child. Second ficlet in the Alec Winchester ‘verse.
Summary: It's not Alec's fault that their dad is so fucked up in the head and can't see that taking the new guy with him, leaving his two loyal sons behind when they want to be with him, is not the right thing to do.
Dean watches the truck pull away, a black hole in his chest where his heart used to be. He swallows and forces himself away from the window, back into the room, tries not to feel hurtbetrayedangryjealous
, but somehow doesn’t manage it.
That guy’s one of them now and, yeah, Dean’s accepted it. Hard not to. It’s like – if he’s
a Winchester and Dad’s son, then that guy sort of has to be, too; because he’s the same as Dean. Same hair and eyes and skin and, fuck, fingerprints! The same in every way. He’s got half John Winchester genes and half Mary Winchester genes and that makes him a fucking Winchester whether or not Dean likes it. Better than that, he’s a clone of Dean
. Like an identical twin.
Oh, except better. Fucking super soldier.
And maybe that’s why Dad took him. Why he loaded him into the truck with wave and a promise that Dean and Sam would hear from him soon, Alec smirking and completely unaware that he was currently being hateddespisedloathed
, because he doesn’t know what its like for Dean and Sam. Couldn’t know because he’s only heard Dad’s side of things and not theirs. It’s nothing they’d tell to someone they just met, anyway, even if Dad had left the three of them alone for long enough to give the new guy a head’s up.Dad will leave you,
he thinks. Dad will abandon you. He did it to us.
It’s not fair to hate Alec for this, because he not a damn part of it is his fault and fuck if Dean doesn’t recognize that look in Alec’s eyes when he was with them all. That look that says he’s found something he didn’t even know he was missing, because Dean feels the same way every time he sees his dad.
Doesn’t change the fact that right now Dean feels like he’s being eaten inside by a green-tinged monster.
And it’s the jealousy that makes it hard for him to breathe as he turns back to the dingy motel room that he and Sammy will be leaving so very shortly, heading out towards the east coast and some witch that’s making trouble up in some back woods part of New York.
What made that guy so special? Alec his almost-brother-clone? What the fuck made him so goddamned special that their dad, who wouldn’t stay near them for more than a day or two at a time, had chosen him to be his backup as he hunted for the demon?
What kind of messed up shit was that?
Dean tries to brush Sam off with a “yeah, fine”, but it doesn’t work. He should’ve known it wouldn’t because Sam is too damn insightful, too fucking persistent. Can’t let good enough go when he should.
He frowns and starts shoving things in his bag, determined to get the hell away from this place as soon as humanly possible. Which will only work if Sam plays along, so he should have realized that he was going to have to own up to something
just to get Sam off his back and packing.
Still, he tries to hold out for as long as possible, because goddamnit he doesn’t want to have a moment like this
. He’d rather drill out his own eyes.
Oh, hey, was that a possibility? Maybe Sammy would think he was possessed and forget this line of questioning and just go straight for an exorcism?
Then again, Dean concedes, maybe drilling out his own eyeballs is a little extreme just to avoid one of those touchy-feely moments that Sammy seems to fucking need on a regular basis out of fear of withdrawal or some shit that Dean doesn’t understand and doesn’t want to.
”What’s. Wrong?” Sam repeats, closer now; crowding Dean’s personal space until Dean is left feeling like he needs to either own up to this or run, else he’s gonna get hugged.
He takes a deep breath and zips his bag up. “I don’t know, Sam – what could possibly be wrong about our Dad going off with … him
and leaving us again?”
Sam frowns and Dean can almost see him wondering ‘isn’t this supposed to be my line
’, but Dean doesn’t feel like giving this one over to Sam. If he’s going to feel this fucking mope-y and emo – and be forced to share it – then damnit, its gonna be his and his alone!
“At least he’s not alone.”
Dean’s breath catches and he feels like the air has just been knocked from his lungs. He expected Sam to understand
, not to offer up a, yeah, perfectly valid reason for their dad having Alec.
”Would you rather he left him here with us and went off by himself again?”
“Of course not,” Dean says, rushed, still angry. But Sam’s point is hammered home in the silence that follows.
Dean doesn’t have to like it, though. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the point doesn’t make a damn thing better, doesn’t ease that fucking pit of jealous blackness that’s in his heart.
He smothers a growl and turns to Sam. “We done here? Can you pack now?”
Sam shrugs and gives him another look that says ‘yeah, man, I’m hurting, too
’, but he starts packing anyway.
Dean shuts his eyes and tries to exorcise the jealousy like he’d exorcise a demon.
Life just isn’t that simple, though.