Dean VS rats

Panic

CHAPTER THREE

Dean finally reveals the truth to his brother.

Dean blinked a few times, then looked up at Sam. "Huh?"

"Are you alright?" Sam repeated worriedly, grabbing the gun from Dean's shaking hand.

Taking a deep shuddering breath to calm down, Dean nodded. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine."

Sam frowned, but they did not have time to talk right now. "Come on," he said, picking up their bags, and taking hold of Dean's arm. "We've got to get out of here before the cops come."

"Why?" asked Dean, but he started moving towards the car anyway.

"Well, I think people might have heard the four gunshots coming from our room and think someone's been murdered."

Dean nodded again, and was about to open the door on the driver's side, but Sam put his hand on his shoulder. "I don't think so, Dean. You look like you're in shock or something."

"I'm fine Sam. Just get in the car," he told his brother, trying to hide his hands, which were still trembling.

"Give me the keys. Don't make me throw you over my shoulder and wrestle you in the car," said Sam, holding his hand out. "You're in no condition to drive, you could crash and kill us both."

Dean rolled his eyes, and threw the keys over to his brother. He would not admit it, but he didn't feel up to driving right now. "Here, you melodramatic freak."

"I'm melodramatic? I'm not the one who had a complete freak out over a rat."

"I didn't freak out," said Dean, climbing into the passenger seat, and relaxing against the leather with his eyes closed.

Climbing into the car beside him, Sam looked worriedly over at Dean as he started the car. "Hey, talk to me."

Dean opened one eye, and looked over at him. "About what? Our favourite boybands? Make up, and hairstyles? Chick-flicks?"

Sam sighed, and gripped the steering wheel. "No. We need to talk about this."

"Okay. You start and I'll join in when I've worked out whatever the hell you're going on about."

It was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. "About rats," he said quietly, slowing the car slightly to make the ride last longer.

Dean shuddered and looked out of the window. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Tough. I've never seen you act like that before. It kind of scared me a little."

Dean bit his lip, and ran his fingers over the scars on his left hand, before rolling both hands into fists.

"Fine. But I'm not getting out of this car until you've spoke to me. We'll drive around all night if we have to." When Dean still didn't talk, Sam tried something else. "It's okay to be scared of something, you know. It's not a weakness to have a fear... I'm afraid of clowns, and I can admit it."

"Good for you. What do you want, a medal?" Dean asked, his heart finally slowing down to its normal rhythm.

"Please Dean, talk to me. Whatever you say, I won't make fun of you. And it will never leave this car... What gets said between brothers, stays between brothers."

Dean continued being silent for several minutes, making Sam think he was still ignoring him.

"Dean, talking helps. I'm your brother."

"Wow. Really? I never knew that, I thought you were a hitchhiker that I never got rid of."

Sam laughed, and thumped Dean's shoulder gently. "You jerk."

Dean's lips twitched in a tiny smile. "Bitch."

"Seriously Dean, you can tell me anything. I just want to help you."

Dean turned back to the window, and remained silent.

"Okay. Whenever you want to talk, I'll be right here to listen."

Half an hour later, Dean spoke quietly to the window. "It was during one of our prank wars."

Sam turned his head towards his brother, but didn't say anything in-case Dean stopped talking.

"We... uh... I was about ten or eleven. Dad dropped us off at Pastor Jim's for a week or two..." Dean closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

"It's okay," whispered Sam, reaching over to place one hand over Dean's trembling one for a second before taking it away.

"We'd played a few pranks on each other, and somehow the kitchen ended up covered in flour and the bathroom was flooded. So Pastor Jim punished us by making us do chores. You got the living room. I had... I had the basement," said Dean, a violent shiver running through his body. "I think you thought we were still playing the pranks, so you shut the basement door, and locked me in there."

Sam jerked, almost crashing the Impala into a tree, before straightening out again. "Sorry."

"Dammit Sam, watch what you're doing. I swear if you damage my baby, I'll be leaving you on the side of the road."

"Calm down. It was an accident." Sam took his eyes from the road for a second to look over at Dean. "I really locked you in the basement?"

Dean looked down at his hands, and nodded.

"I'm so sorry Dean. Is that where the rats..."

"Yeah," answered Dean quietly. "I was banging on the door and yelling for about ten minutes, but Pastor Jim was busy cleaning the church next door, and you were just laughing like it was the funniest thing ever." Dean clenched his jaw, and continued. "I uh... I gave up after awhile and went down to sit on an old mattress. I think I fell asleep..."

"What happened?" whispered Sam, feeling seriously guilty.

"I... I felt pain in my hands, and when I woke up, there were two rats..." Dean swallowed heavily, shaking his head to remove the images. "Two rats were... One was on my chest, nibbling on my left hand, which was laying there... and... and the other was on the mattress beside me, nibbling on the fingers on my other hand."

"Oh my god."

Dean smiled without humour. "I kinda froze in shock. I don't know how long I was laying there covered with blood, with the... r-rats trying to eat me... but... but another one came along, and climbed on my face."

Sam looked over at his brother to see the tears swimming in his green eyes, but he tried to blink them away. "Are you okay?"

Dean nodded, and bit his lip. "I didn't move until that one tried chewing my nose. I-I shot up from the mattress, and tried to get them off, but... but they wouldn't leave me alone." He took another deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart down as he relived one of the worst times of his life. "I ran up the stairs, and started banging on the door and screaming to be let out."

"I ignored you," said Sam quietly, his eyes widening. "I remember now. You were yelling something about rats, but I thought it was another prank or something. Oh god, I can't believe I did that."

Dean shrugged. "You weren't to know."

"What happened?" asked Sam, slowing down to a stop on the side of the road.

"I remember crying, and sitting on the top step. And the rats..." He closed his eyes. "They were squeaking so loud, and they ran up the stairs, and sat there staring at me with their black eyes. I swear they looked demonic, or something." Dean held his hands out, and stared at the old scars. "My fingers were bleeding, and hurting. I closed my eyes to try and pretend I was somewhere else. After a few minutes, I felt something bite my toe."

"One of the rats," whispered Sam, listening to the horrible story.

"Yeah. The furry little bastard must've grown a pair. It sat on my right foot, and chewed on it like I was a candy bar or something. I uh... I kicked my foot out, and it flew down the stairs, and crashed against the wall. It knocked into a huge pile of old books and they fell on it, and crushed it." A shaky smile crossed his face. "It was the best thing that happened down there. I actually laughed when I heard its body crunch and break."

"How long were you down there with them?" asked Sam around the lump in his throat.

"I don't know," answered Dean with a headshake. "It felt like forever, but I know it was maybe a couple of hours or something. I remember wishing dad would come and help me... because that's what he did, right? He saved people who needed help."

Sam reached over and placed his hand on Dean's, and this time left it there for support.

"I called dad's name over and over, hoping he'd suddenly show up and save me," Dean admitted with a tiny smile. "It worked with Beetlejuice."

Sam didn't smile back, tears filled his own eyes, but he refused to wipe them away.

"It was after that... a few more rats came out of hiding, and surrounded me. It was like an army or something... I think they smelled the blood. Some of them sat on the stairs below me while I was freaking out, my heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was trying to break free," he whispered, placing his free hand on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

"It's okay. They're not here."

"The others ran around. There... there was... It seemed like there was hundreds of them. Three of them... they... they were frigging huge... They shot forwards, and started nibbling on my pants and feet. But I shot up and started banging frantically on the door, yelling for dad to help me."

"You were screaming that they were eating you," said Sam with a nod, remembering the horrified shouting and crying. He could not believe he had forgot about it, but listening to his brother finally talk about the terrible experience, he would never forget it again.

Dean nodded, but refused to look at his brother.

"That was when I finally realised you weren't joking around. I tried to unlock the door, but for some reason it was stuck."

"I know. I heard you crying out for me. You sounded even more panicked than I was."

"I think I was. I've never heard my brave big brother sound like that before. It freaked me out," Sam told him, as he remembered running out screaming for Pastor Jim.

"You were freaked out?" asked Dean, eyebrows shooting up. Taking another deep breath, he continued telling Sam the story, even though he remembered now. "The door finally opened and Pastor Jim asked me if I was alright, but I ran out of the basement and to our room."

"Me and Pastor Jim saw the blood on the door," said Sam, wiping the tears flowing down his cheeks. "That was from your hands, wasn't it?"

Dean raised his hands, and showed Sam the scars. Loads of little white scars covered his fingers, and his hands.

"Oh god." Sam reached over, and took the scarred hands in his. "I remember after Pastor Jim calmed you down, and cleaned you up... you told us you made it up, and that you was hungry and decided to have a snack," he said, a smile crossing his face. "For awhile I actually believed you."

Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam. "You really believed I tried to eat myself? I know I say to the fuglies to eat me, and that I taste good, but that's just a figure of speech."

"Dude, I was like six or something. I believed in Santa at that age," said Sam, the smile dropping. "I really am sorry you had to go through all that. So sorry. I shouldn't have locked you in there like that."

Dean gently took his hands from his brothers and looked away. "It's okay."

"No it's not," said Sam, moving his hand under Dean's chin, and making him look at him. "Brothers are supposed to look out for each other... and I just went too far and locked you in where all the rats were. How could you even talk to me after that?"

"Like you said, we're brothers. Do you remember when Pastor Jim took me to hospital? I don't think he believed me when I said I was hungry."

"Yeah. He took you to get the bites checked out, and he left me with the nice old woman who lived closest to him. When you came back the next morning, you stopped speaking for two days, and you refused to go anywhere near the basement." Sam shook his head, and wrapped his arms around Dean in a hug. "I'll make it up to you. I'm so so sorry Dean."

After several seconds, Dean pulled away. "So now you know why I... freak out slightly around rats."

"I do now. Okay, so the next time we run into a rat, I'll be the one to blow its brains out," said Sam with narrowed eyes. "You don't ever have to go near rats again if I'm around. They'll have to get through me first."

Dean stared at Sam for a few seconds, surprised at the deadly expression on his face. "Er... I can look after myself Sam."

"I know you can, but it's my job."

"What? To kill rats?" asked Dean with raised eyebrows.

"No. To look out for you, to protect you from things you're afraid of. To be there when you need me. How about when we get to the next motel, we get takeout and some beers? My treat."

"Hell yeah," said Dean with a grin. "Er... after tonight, we never speak of this again, okay?"

"You got it. It stays between us, our secret."

"Okay. Now let's get out of here, and do something manly to show we haven't turned into a couple of chicks."

Sam laughed, and started the car again. "You got it, big brother."

After stopping at a nearby pizza hut and liquor store, the brothers finally stopped at a motel, armed with a twelve-pack, two pizzas, and a few DVDs.

"Hey," said Sam, passing the bags and boxes to his brother, and taking out his gun. "Let me go first."

"Sam, what the hell are you doing?" asked Dean, looking around to make sure nobody was in the parking lot to see the gun.

"Making sure this motel is clean, and free from rats," answered Sam, unlocking the door to their room. "You stay out here until I give you a shout."

Dean rolled his eyes, and stepped back to act as lookout.

"If you hear any gunshots, run to the car because we won't be staying in another place infested with rats."

"Sam, I don't need protecting. I'm not a damsel in distress."

"I never said you were wearing a dress," Sam joked with a grin, before walking in and shutting the door.

Dean laughed and shook his head. "Freak." He swallowed nervously and waited for any gunshots.

Sam quietly searched the room, his gun held out in-front of him as he looked around carefully for any signs of rats or rat droppings.

After five minutes of thoroughly searching the main room and the bathroom, he could not find any signs of rats staying here. With a sigh of relief, Sam walked over to open the door with a grin. "Hey, it's safe to come in."

"Are you sure?" asked Dean, taking a step forward.

"Dean, if there were any rats here, I wouldn't let you in." Sam took the pizzas and beers from his brother, and opened the door wider for Dean to walk into the room.

"Wow. Nice," said Dean with a whistle, looking around the room, which was the best room they had stayed at in awhile.

"I know. I wanted to find a nice one that hopefully didn't have any rats. And this was the best looking one I could find."

"Great. Are you going to put a movie on, while I get the food and drink ready?" asked Dean, putting his duffel on the floor and laying on his stomach on the bed closest to the door. "Which one are you putting on?"

"Hondo," answered Sam, holding the DVD up. "I saw you were watching it on the TV while I was packing up our things at the rat motel."

"Awesome. What else did we get?" asked Dean, taking off the tops of two beers, and opening one of the pizza boxes.

"Nightmare on elm street, Saw, Dirty Harry, Unforgiven, The green mile, Christine, The good the bad and the ugly, One flew over the cuckoos nest, Rio grande, True grit, The shining... and IT for when I'm not here or I'm asleep."

Dean stared at Sam. "How long are you planning on staying here?"

"The weekend. We deserve a weekend off, so I thought we could spend a bit of time together like brothers," answered Sam, pressing play, and laying on his front beside his brother.

Dean looked at Sam surprised, but he smiled and nudged his shoulder with his own. "You better not take advantage of me or anything."

Sam laughed. "I'll try and control myself, Dean. You're not my type... I'm not gay for a start," he said, taking one of the beers from Dean, and holding it up. "To us."

"To us," answered Dean, clinking his beer against Sam's.

"I really am sorry, you know."

"I know. Forget about it," said Dean, grabbing a slice of pizza, and turning back to the TV as the movie started.

Sam watched Dean for several seconds, and smiled before getting a slice too. "We should do this more often."

"Shh. Be quiet, Hondo's on."

Sam took a sip of his beer, and the two enjoyed watching movies together for the rest of the weekend.

*The end*

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