[ he doesn't want to make this call, is certain sam already knows -- because of course he does, fatima would have said something -- but dean doesn't want it to boil down to sam having to force the answers out of him again, like during prior conflicts. so he reaches out before sam can, though the usual bite and steel of his voice is missing, his defenses down. ]
If you already spoke to Fatima-- [ it started off better in his head, but suddenly dean isn't sure where he's going with this. only that... excuses won't really cut it.
[ You messed up? Yeah, you messed up. Again. But so did Sam. He knows he can't hover and hope to protect her at every moment, but Dean is his responsibility. Dean is someone he cares about and wants to trust. But he can't, he just can't.
But really, Dean is admitting that he messed up. Something Sam never thought he'd hear in regards to Fatima.
There's silence on the other end where shouting usually is. He's tired and shocked. ]
[ the fact that sam replies gives dean enough hope to keep going, though the words come slowly, carefully. it's hard to not slam the blame on fatima -- he still hates her, hates that she's a part of sam's life -- but this isn't about her. not really. ]
I know she was bruised, but... it didn't go beyond that.
[ There are so many things Sam wants to say, things that in
every right he should tear Dean apart for. But the fact that his brother
has come forward of his own accord is enough to keep him quiet, keep his
temper in check. He's tired, too, but the thought that if he says the wrong
thing Dean will recoil is paramount. ]
Why?
[ Why didn't it go beyond that? Why did he do it in the first place?
Why does he always do it? ]
I was angry. At-- everything. [ but isn't he always. dean falls quiet again for a moment, thinking that maybe he could-- maybe they could leave it at that? or maybe it won't satisfy sam. he doesn't know, it-- it's all so complicated. ]
I thought going back to what I was going to do before everything happened would make being here, like this, easier again.
[ here like this being the real haven, and not a pill-hopping happy version of it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
( voice )
If you already spoke to Fatima-- [ it started off better in his head, but suddenly dean isn't sure where he's going with this. only that... excuses won't really cut it.
a long beat passes and he sighs. ]
I messed up, Sam.
[ simple and honest. ]
no subject
But really, Dean is admitting that he messed up. Something Sam never thought he'd hear in regards to Fatima.
There's silence on the other end where shouting usually is. He's tired and shocked. ]
...Yeah. Yeah you did.
no subject
I know she was bruised, but... it didn't go beyond that.
[ unlike with him and his broken nose. ]
no subject
[ There are so many things Sam wants to say, things that in every right he should tear Dean apart for. But the fact that his brother has come forward of his own accord is enough to keep him quiet, keep his temper in check. He's tired, too, but the thought that if he says the wrong thing Dean will recoil is paramount. ]
Why?
[ Why didn't it go beyond that? Why did he do it in the first place? Why does he always do it? ]
no subject
I was angry. At-- everything. [ but isn't he always. dean falls quiet again for a moment, thinking that maybe he could-- maybe they could leave it at that? or maybe it won't satisfy sam. he doesn't know, it-- it's all so complicated. ]
I thought going back to what I was going to do before everything happened would make being here, like this, easier again.
[ here like this being the real haven, and not a pill-hopping happy version of it. ]