The Forbidden Fruit

тнεѕε violεит dεligнтѕ наvε violεит εиdѕ, аиd iи тнεія тяіυмрн diε, liкε fiяε aиd powdεя, wніcн аѕ тнεу кіѕѕ...coиѕυмε... ♥ ◦ ■ ◊ ○ ♫


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Stanford College, California: Haven't seen you in a while

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The nights air was cold. The leather of Dean's jacket appeared to be doing very little to shield him from the bite of it, though he barely noticed. It had been far too long since Dean had last seen his brother. Four years, two since their last phone call. Ever since the argument between the younger of the two and their father, the bond tying Sam to his family appeared to have dissipated.

The moonlight casted murky shadows over the chevy Impalas' black paintwork and Dean's arms were folded as he leaned against its hood. He knew that Sam would not be very receptive to his interuption of the life that he had built for himself at college, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Dean was doubtlessly beyond desperate now, their father's disappearance a couple of weeks ago had left him shaken and alone. He was hoping that Sam would put aside their old differences, and help him find their dad.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean walked up to his younger brothers front door, and rapped on the glass pane. There was a half formed thought in the back of his head that he should of booked himself into a motel over night and done this in the morning, rather then at half twelve at night.

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Sam was tired. He was almost asleep as he rested his head against his hand where his elbow was leaning on the desk. He couldn't sleep - not yet. He'd left a long assignment until the last minute and he was barely halfway through. Distractions like Jess was making him want to go to bed though. She had stopped asking him a long time ago to hurry up and finish it.

Slowly his head bobbed down and his head was resting in his arms on the warm laptop where they slowly closed.

Tap, tap, tap.

Sam shot up as the noise made him jump and rubbed his eyes with his hand, frustrated that he'd fallen asleep again, and it was barely past midnight. He didn't realise that there would be anyone at the door at this time, and at first just tried to carry on. But then he couldn't work out what had made that noise. He stood up, trying to clear his head from sleep deprived hallucinations when he actually saw someone in the doorway.

Slowly, he walked towards the door and opened it ajar, squinting in the darkness.

"Dean?"

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Dean continued knocking on the door when Sam did not at first answer. It was a couple of minutes later when the door opened and he saw the familiar sleep mussed dark brown mop of hair framing his little, or not so little by the looks of it, brothers face.

"Sammy."

It looked to the side of Sam, peering into his house. The lights still appeared to be on, the place oozing of the normality that Sam had desired throughout their childhood, borne out of years of constantly moving about, state to state, because of their dads job. It had never bothered Dean, though the moving constantly from high school to high school, never staying long enough to make friends or make any commitments had obviously bothered his brother, and had driven him to getting a place at Stanford, studying pre law. Nothing had ever been the same since.

Dean looked back up at Sam, forcing a a smile onto his face, "Can I come in? I need to talk to you about Dad."



((OOC: Up a bit late, aren't we Sammy? Mom's gunna freak if she finds out.))



Last edited by Dean Winchester on Tue Dec 14, 2010 11:15 am; edited 1 time in total

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Sam rubbed the edge of his forehead tiredly and the irritation set in on his face. Dean knew very well that their dad and him didn't get on, and for him to come to Sam about their dad was something that didn't happen. As far as Sam was concerned, he was out of his life.

Why was he smiling anyway? They hadn't spoken for the last two years! It was like he had tried to get out of Sam's life too.

"What's dad got to do with me?" asked Sam, swinging the door open for Dean to come in. He shut the door behind him and waited for Dean to explain himself.

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Dean followed Sam into the house. He was unsurprised by Sam's irritation, though it did sting. It was not like he had wanted him out of his life, even if his father had made it clear that he did not want Sam to come back. The last conversation they had two years ago was beyond awkward, and it was as if Sam had not wanted to talk to him, had clearly wanted him out of his life.

"Dad's gone missing," Dean said, stating it bluntly, walking past Sam, towards his fridge, dropping the smile, "You got a beer?"

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Sam furrowed his brow and closed his laptop. "No, because you drove here." he said dully.

Dean ignored him and went over into the kitchen and appeared back with one anyway. "Dean, what the hell?" asked Sam, annoyed that he had just showed up in the middle of the night after two years of not talking, and suddenly stealing Sam's beer. "What do you mean dad's missing? He goes off all the time doesn't he?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, slowly with tiredness as Dean sat down on the couch. Sam didn't sit, because he was going to probably kick him out soon.

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Dean's fingers wrapped around the neck of the cool green glass, and he looked up at Sam from where he was seated, his expression was wary. He took a swig of from the bottle, and placed it down on the floor, by his feet.

"Dad's been on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days," he said, looking meaningfully into Sam's eyes, hoping that this would spark some sort of reaction in his brother. He knew things had never been great between the three of them, but he had been hoping for a little bit more concern from his brother. It was true that their father had often disappeared for relatively long periods of time in their childhood, but he had always come back, and had usually gave them some sort of warning. Not this time.

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"I still don't get it." said Sam. "Dad always goes off on hunting trips." he sat down on the chair at the desk and rested his elbow on it, tiredly. "Seriously, Dean, why did you come here? I thought we weren't talking any more."

He sighed, seeing the beer bottle on the floor - at least it wasn't on a table or something so Jess wouldn't be mad if he left a ring - and then she wouldn't know he was here. "Why are you here, Dean?" he asked again.

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Sam obviously did not want him here, that much was clear. His sceptisism of whether or not their father was missing spoke volumes, and his questioning of Dean's presence stung. Leaning back, he rested his head against where the head of the couch met the wall.

"He's missing properly this time, Sam. He just vanished, hasn't been answering his cell. The number of times I've tried ringing the man -" Dean shook his head wearily, "I know we haven't talked a whole lot lately, and I really am sorry for that. We gotta find him though, we're his family."

Dean leaned forward, and swiped the beer, his fingers grasping along the edge as he took another drink. Putting it back on the floor, he pushed himself to his feet, and took a few paces towards Sam. "Come with me," his voice was low and urgent, begging for Sam to understand, "Just help me find him. Do you really value this college thing you got going on over your own family?"

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Sam hated when his brother did that - tried to make it seem that Sam was the bad guy, just because he was usually having arguments with their dad. He left to leave that supernatural world behind and have a normal life - not so that Dean could come up to the door in the middle of the night whenever he wanted.

But Sam had to admit that he was family, and it would be downright heartless for him to make Dean go and find their dad on his own, and knowing the kinds of stuff he went after it wouldn't be good if Dean was stuck in that. Then Sam would be loosing two members of his family.

He sighed. "Do you have any idea where he is, then?"

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A hint of a a smile played across Dean's face. He knew he should probably feel guilty, using the family card on Sam, but it did get the job done, and he sure as hell was not going to turn down the chance of having his brother back with him on the road, like it used to be. Even if he did feel slightly bad for manipulating him.

"Sort of," Dean looked away, frowning, "We were in Forks, Washington, doing some gig. There'd been some really weird stuff going on there, dude. Bears, mountain lions, found dead. But it was weirder then that, the blood had been drained right outta them. Clean kill. Anyway, we were staying in this motel, as usual, and I woke up the next morning and dads gone. I looked all over the place for him, for about a week. It was like he vanished off the face of the Earth."


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Sam's eyes shut in a blink that lasted about three seconds. When he opened his eyes again he thought he must have misheard what Dean had just said. "Forks?" he asked. "Did you say Forks? As in... the cutlery?" he gave him a confused expression.

It must have been a small town that Sam had never even heard of. He really hadn't heard of 'Forks' before, but it sounded strange... and more or less... boring.

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Now that he thought about it, it was a bit of an unusual town name, and their convorsational tone seemed to be slipping more and more into one typical of the past. It was both a relief and surprising at how quickly Sam seemed to fall back into the old routine. It was strangely pleasant.

"Yeah, I said Forks. It's some middle of nowhere town, crappy weather," Dean did a slightly exaggerated grimace, "But something odd is going on up there, something I can't quite put my finger on. I think the old man was getting onto something, but he went missing before he told me what."

Dean's fished for his keys in his pocket, and pulled them out. "You up for it?"

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Sam mumbled something or other that sounded a lot like "Spoons would be more harmless." before he stood up.

"Yeah, alright then. But I can't stay long... I have actual work to do, you know." he headed into the bedroom to see Jess asleep in their bed peacefully. He smiled sadly at her, leaving a note next to her phone saying he would call her in the morning, not having the heart to wake her from her dreaming state.

He collected some stuff to take with him, including his laptop so he could finish his essay - no that he would be able to hand it in anyway.

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Dean leaned against the wood of the doorway to Sam's bedroom, quietly observing his brother packing. He eyes flickered over to the figure on the bed, blonde hair played across the pillow, a soft smile on her dreaming face. Now he could see why Sam was so reluctant to come with him. He looked back over to his brother, who was going through his drawers, shoving his things into a bag to take with him.

He grinned playfully, though his expression would be unreadable through the dark of the room that shadowed his face.

"Got quite a catch there Sammy," he said, his voice low enough so as not to wake her up, "Bit out of your league, isn't she?"

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Sam gave Dean a dark look telling him to back off, that this wasn't anything to do with him, and the sooner they found dad the sooner that he and Dean could get out of his life again, like it was before. Jess didn't need to have any part of this and what they did. She couldn't see the evil, and damn it, Sam was going to make sure it stayed that way.

"Let's go." he grumbled, swinging the bag over his shoulder.

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Dean put his hands in the air, "Alright, alright," Sam obviously wanted him to back off, and he was not surprised. Sam had never really liked his family getting involved in any of the 'normal' aspects of his life, and whoever this girl was Sam obviously wanted to keep him and everything associated with what he did away from her.

He followed Sam out of the room, casting one last glance behind him. Sam really did have it good here, as reluctant as he was to admit it. Something this good would never last though, especially not to their family. It was stupid of Sam to get this involved, really, knowing the potential danger he could pose to her by bringing her into his life, whether he had left the hunting thing or not.

Dean grabbed the remaining beer on the way out. This was going to be a long drive.

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Furrowing his brow in irritation again, Sam shut the front door, locking it. He wasn't sure about this - going back to his old life of danger and hunting when he'd already set up everything right behind that door. He should have known it wouldn't have been long before Dean and their dad came back into his life again, wanting him back. He probably wouldn't have been so annoyed if he had slept in days, but if Dean had gone so long without him, then it was probably important if he came back other than messing Sam around.

He practically threw the bag into the car before getting in himself, waiting for Dean.

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Dean got into the drivers seat, and turned the keys in the ignition. The car roared to life, beloved leather soft beneath his fingertips. He glanced over at Sam, who was frowning, looking unsurprisingly irritated and slightly sleep deprived. Same old Sam, by the looks of it.

It would probably take them about a day to get to Washington from here, which would have been alright had he not been driving all day from there to get to Stanford to see Sam. He was alright now, but he knew soon the lack of sleep would get to him too. It would be best to drive for a few hours, and then find a motel to sign in too for the night, give them a bit of a break before getting to Forks. Sam did look like he could do with some rest, after all.

Dean shoved a cassette into the stereo, and turned the volume right up, Led Zeppelin drowning out the silence.

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Sam groaned and gave Dean a disbelieving look. "Seriously?" he raised his voice over the loud music.

Dean smiled back and then returned his eyes to the dark road. Sam looked the other way, irritably trying to stay awake, knowing that Dean would probably do embarrassing things to him while he was asleep and then take photos, and what he would do with said photos probably wouldn't be something he wanted to find out.

Eventually though, the sleep deprivation from the last few days got to him and he lolled in the car seat, slipping into unconsciousness without choice.

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No more then an hour of driving, and Sam had already feel asleep in the passenger seat of the Impala, his head resting against the leather. His too long limbs were splayed out awkwardly, mouth open as he slept. When sleeping, he seemed to look several years younger, and Dean could almost imagine he was still his little kid brother, asleep after long hours of driving late at the night as he and his dad took it in turns driving.

He wondered how Sam would take it if he where to draw on his face while he was like this. Probably not very well. Though he did have a sharpie in the glovebox, and a cameraphone in his pocket. Though knowing Sam's reaction to the Nair in his shampoo back when they were kids, and all the other stuff, it would end badly. Still... what the hell?

Dean tried to open the glove compartment quietly, and grabbed the Sharpie. This was going to be a bitch for Sammy to get off.

He drew a mustache, pressing his lips together in concentration. It was a good job Sam looked like he was in such a deep sleep, no doubt he'd kill Dean if he woke up. Dean added on a hurried beard, and printed Metallica across his forehead. Dean smirked at his handiwork, and got out his phone, taking a quick picture, and hoping that the flash would not wake up his brother.

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The flash of the phone in the darkness did wake up Sam, but he was too drowsy to take much notice. He pressed his eyelids tighter together as the light tried to brighten the darkness. He let out a small, annoyed, hm'ing noise, oblivious to anything else that had changed - even the pen marks on his face.

Sam would probably kill Dean when he woke up, already annoyed that he had been dragged on this journey to find their dad, and he hadn't even been able to tell Jess yet. "Jess..." he whispered, thinking of her. "You already have good photos of me..."

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Dean quickly shoved the camera back into his pocket, tossing the pen into the back seat, hiding the evidence. Sam was going to be pissed when he reached a higher level of lucidity.

His lips quirked into an amused smile as Sam spoke, seemingly identifying him as Jess. A little creepy, sure. But funny as hell. He was never going to let Sam live this one down.

"Go back to sleep, honey," he said, putting on his best high pitched girl impersonation tone, wondering if Sam would be convinced in his half aware state. If he could just get Sam to drift back off, then he could put off all the arguing and annoyed looks that were inevitably going to come.

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Sam's head moves and leant the other way so he was almost facing his brother. He smiled slightly in his sleep at hearing his girl friend's voice.

"But I gotta finish the paper..." he groaned, realising. "Can't sleep... not yet... I'm sorry." He slowly reached out his hand to try and find hers but couldn't find anything, and then he did find something - he found a hand.

"Love you..." he whispered softly. smiling again.

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Dean felt a hand close around his, and he winced inwardly, as Sam continued to make it worse with his confession of love for his girlfriend who was clearly not present. This plan had definitely backfired. The only chance of salvation now was trying to convince Sam to go back to sleep, and hope that he would have forgotten about this in the morning. If there was some way that he could remove his hand without causing further damage.

Dean squeezed Sam's hand awkwardly, and tried to disentangle it from Sam's grip.

"You finished it an hour ago," he continued in his not so convincing Jess voice, hoping that this would be over soon, "Just go back to sleep, Sammy."

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