He doesn’t want to see you, Dean convinces himself. But still, he keeps the foot on the gas and keep driving. Back roads, thin and bare with just his headlights to guide him.
It’s too late, Dean says, and he knows Sam’s sleeping. But still, he keeps his foot on the gas driving.
Dad’s in trouble. That’s true. Dean can handle this by himself. That’s also true. Sam doesn’t even need to know. Again, true.
But Dean misses his little brother, whether he’s ready to admit it or not. And he’s gonna need a better reason for breaking into Sam’s little, cozy apartment on campus than ‘I miss you’, because Dean knows he can’t make himself say it.
Saying Dad’s in trouble is enough, he knows it is. But Sam can see right through him, always could, a couple years apart isn’t going to change that.
What the hell are you going to say?, Dean asks himself. And again, the thinks about finding the quickest road away from Stanford, out of California, and into a state that would help him find Dad. But he’s got to see Sam. It’s been too long.
And when he’s finally in the apartment, wrestling with Sam, he can’t help but smile because damn, he’s missed this.
When Sam’s asks, “What the hell are you going here, Dean?”, all of Dean’s pre-thought responses flew out the window.
So he slaps a smirk on his face, fixes Sam’s shirt and says, “Well, I was looking for a beer.”