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Title: Five Times Sam Missed Dean
Rating: PG
Notes:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
samidha wanted to see five times Dean missed Sam or vice versa.
The room was big, huge even. Of course, Sam was used to big things and big places, but this was different. There were lots of strangers: kids (“Be good to meet kids your own age, Sammy?”) and two strange grown ups (“Do what your teachers tell you, okay?”). Dad and Dean, except for today, always told him not to talk to strangers. Sam wasn’t sure why, but strangers were bad, were dangerous. He didn’t have to ask why. Dean said so and Dean would never lie to Sam.
Sam sat very still and very quietly on the chair where Dean left him. The other boys and girls, the other students, moved freely and played with the toys in the room. One of the boys, Billy, had asked Sam to play with the blocks in the corner with him, but Sam hadn’t said anything or joined him. He remembered Dean watching some other boys at the motel and not saying anything or playing with them. Strangers were bad. Strangers were dangerous.
“Sammy, don’t you want to play?”
Sam looked up at his teacher and wanted his Dean.
*
“Come on,” Zach said. “Don’t be such a pussy.”
“Watch it,” Jess told him, slapping his shoulder playfully. “But, really, Sam, what’s wrong with going to a bar? I’ve seen your ID, so don’t tell us you can’t go because of that.”
“You’ve got a decent fake ID?” Zach asked. “Let’s see!”
Sam, uncomfortable, reached into his wallet and pulled out the ID, the one that had been his eighteenth birthday gift. It really was good, only the best for baby brother.
“Oh, sweet.” Zach whistled. “That’s great! Where’d you get it? I want one of those.”
“It was a gift.” Sam pulled his ID back, away from his friend’s scrutiny.
“I think,” Becky soothed, getting between her brother and Sam, “what Zach means is that Kelly’s is going to be crowded if we don’t get there soon.”
The bar wasn’t far from campus and everyone else was excited to be celebrating Zach’s birthday. They were loud and rowdy, college students on a Saturday night, except for Sam, who trailed a little behind, still holding his ID in his right hand. Jess watched him over her shoulder for a moment before catching up with Zach and Becky to challenge Becky to shots.
Kelly’s was typical, small, and crowded. There were a few young professionals, but most of the crowd consisted of college students who had been pre-gaming since the early afternoon. Sam tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that said, cool and smooth as the first kiss of the summer, “Easy marks.”
“Get back here, Sam,” Zach called over the rhythmic bar music. “You need to kick my ass at pool.”
Sam swallowed down the pain of missing Dean.
*
Sam could feel the agony of his severed spinal cord. It was pain, but it was somehow more real than the rest of the torment around him.
His world was flickering green fire and barbed wire and an endless, starless black sky. He could hear others’ terrified screams echoing around the broken and rusted barbed wire, but he couldn’t see anyone. The light didn’t seem to come from the deadly looking flames, but there was no sun or moon in the inky sky.
Sam tried to twist, to move, to run away, to find someone or something, but it felt like the barbed wire was running into his back. He tried to scream when he heard the tortured wail of a child, but he had no voice. He could do nothing. He could not save Andy or Ava or this tortured child. He couldn’t even save himself. He was lost, lost to death and pain and suffering and given over to his demon blood.
Only Dean could save him now and Sam screamed silently for his absent brother before everything went white.
*
Smooth and even. In and out. One deep breath, two shallow breaths. Slow, quick, quick.
Sam stood over the broken bodies of the vampires, machete in one hand.
Lenore stared at him, frozen in her chair. “I haven’t done anything! I haven’t hurt anyone.”
Sam stared at her, his eyes dull and flat, his skin dark and puffy from lack of sleep. “They did.”
She nodded jerkily, swift to agree.
“You didn’t have anything to do with those deaths?” Sam wiped down his blade.
“No. I didn’t know.”
“If you lied - or if you start killing - I will find you.” Sam thought, distantly, that maybe he should feel something that Lenore was so terrified.
“Didn’t you have a partner?” she asked as Sam turned to leave.
“I do. He was taken away, but I’m going to fix that. And he’s going to pay. Even Tricksters make mistakes.”
The Trickster’s first mistake was tearing part of Sam’s heart out.
*
Sam knelt over the turn earth of the isolated grave in Illinois and pushed the rough cross into the soft ground. There were no tears or shouts. The time for such pain was past. He had spent a day crying over his brother’s broken body. Now was the time for action, for doing. Dean was in Hell, but that could be fixed.
“You sure you don’t want to burn the body?” Bobby asked from behind him.
Sam gave a silent Pater Noster and briefly wondered if God would even listen to his tainted prayers. “He’s going to need his body.”
Bobby was silent, but Sam could hear his question anyway.
“He’s not staying in Hell.”
Sam left Bobby standing by the grave and walked back to where he had left the Impala on the side road, weaving his way through the weeds and around the larger saplings. The Impala gleamed blackly in the early summer sun, a testament to the strength and will of the Winchesters. Sam swallowed sharply and opened the driver’s side door, sliding slowly into the seat. He shook for a moment, completely ravaged by an unnamable emotion, before putting the key in the ignition.
If Sam had any say in anything, Dean wouldn’t burn long. He didn’t care if it took prayer or demands or his already tainted soul or the damnation of the world; Dean would be back by his side again.
Rating: PG
Notes:
samidha wanted to see five times Dean missed Sam or vice versa.The room was big, huge even. Of course, Sam was used to big things and big places, but this was different. There were lots of strangers: kids (“Be good to meet kids your own age, Sammy?”) and two strange grown ups (“Do what your teachers tell you, okay?”). Dad and Dean, except for today, always told him not to talk to strangers. Sam wasn’t sure why, but strangers were bad, were dangerous. He didn’t have to ask why. Dean said so and Dean would never lie to Sam.
Sam sat very still and very quietly on the chair where Dean left him. The other boys and girls, the other students, moved freely and played with the toys in the room. One of the boys, Billy, had asked Sam to play with the blocks in the corner with him, but Sam hadn’t said anything or joined him. He remembered Dean watching some other boys at the motel and not saying anything or playing with them. Strangers were bad. Strangers were dangerous.
“Sammy, don’t you want to play?”
Sam looked up at his teacher and wanted his Dean.
*
“Come on,” Zach said. “Don’t be such a pussy.”
“Watch it,” Jess told him, slapping his shoulder playfully. “But, really, Sam, what’s wrong with going to a bar? I’ve seen your ID, so don’t tell us you can’t go because of that.”
“You’ve got a decent fake ID?” Zach asked. “Let’s see!”
Sam, uncomfortable, reached into his wallet and pulled out the ID, the one that had been his eighteenth birthday gift. It really was good, only the best for baby brother.
“Oh, sweet.” Zach whistled. “That’s great! Where’d you get it? I want one of those.”
“It was a gift.” Sam pulled his ID back, away from his friend’s scrutiny.
“I think,” Becky soothed, getting between her brother and Sam, “what Zach means is that Kelly’s is going to be crowded if we don’t get there soon.”
The bar wasn’t far from campus and everyone else was excited to be celebrating Zach’s birthday. They were loud and rowdy, college students on a Saturday night, except for Sam, who trailed a little behind, still holding his ID in his right hand. Jess watched him over her shoulder for a moment before catching up with Zach and Becky to challenge Becky to shots.
Kelly’s was typical, small, and crowded. There were a few young professionals, but most of the crowd consisted of college students who had been pre-gaming since the early afternoon. Sam tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that said, cool and smooth as the first kiss of the summer, “Easy marks.”
“Get back here, Sam,” Zach called over the rhythmic bar music. “You need to kick my ass at pool.”
Sam swallowed down the pain of missing Dean.
*
Sam could feel the agony of his severed spinal cord. It was pain, but it was somehow more real than the rest of the torment around him.
His world was flickering green fire and barbed wire and an endless, starless black sky. He could hear others’ terrified screams echoing around the broken and rusted barbed wire, but he couldn’t see anyone. The light didn’t seem to come from the deadly looking flames, but there was no sun or moon in the inky sky.
Sam tried to twist, to move, to run away, to find someone or something, but it felt like the barbed wire was running into his back. He tried to scream when he heard the tortured wail of a child, but he had no voice. He could do nothing. He could not save Andy or Ava or this tortured child. He couldn’t even save himself. He was lost, lost to death and pain and suffering and given over to his demon blood.
Only Dean could save him now and Sam screamed silently for his absent brother before everything went white.
*
Smooth and even. In and out. One deep breath, two shallow breaths. Slow, quick, quick.
Sam stood over the broken bodies of the vampires, machete in one hand.
Lenore stared at him, frozen in her chair. “I haven’t done anything! I haven’t hurt anyone.”
Sam stared at her, his eyes dull and flat, his skin dark and puffy from lack of sleep. “They did.”
She nodded jerkily, swift to agree.
“You didn’t have anything to do with those deaths?” Sam wiped down his blade.
“No. I didn’t know.”
“If you lied - or if you start killing - I will find you.” Sam thought, distantly, that maybe he should feel something that Lenore was so terrified.
“Didn’t you have a partner?” she asked as Sam turned to leave.
“I do. He was taken away, but I’m going to fix that. And he’s going to pay. Even Tricksters make mistakes.”
The Trickster’s first mistake was tearing part of Sam’s heart out.
*
Sam knelt over the turn earth of the isolated grave in Illinois and pushed the rough cross into the soft ground. There were no tears or shouts. The time for such pain was past. He had spent a day crying over his brother’s broken body. Now was the time for action, for doing. Dean was in Hell, but that could be fixed.
“You sure you don’t want to burn the body?” Bobby asked from behind him.
Sam gave a silent Pater Noster and briefly wondered if God would even listen to his tainted prayers. “He’s going to need his body.”
Bobby was silent, but Sam could hear his question anyway.
“He’s not staying in Hell.”
Sam left Bobby standing by the grave and walked back to where he had left the Impala on the side road, weaving his way through the weeds and around the larger saplings. The Impala gleamed blackly in the early summer sun, a testament to the strength and will of the Winchesters. Sam swallowed sharply and opened the driver’s side door, sliding slowly into the seat. He shook for a moment, completely ravaged by an unnamable emotion, before putting the key in the ignition.
If Sam had any say in anything, Dean wouldn’t burn long. He didn’t care if it took prayer or demands or his already tainted soul or the damnation of the world; Dean would be back by his side again.
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PS: Couple typos:
"Even tricksters make mistakes" -- no apostrophy. And on the "That's great," I don't think you want a question mark.
THANK YOU. :D
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This really happened. Considered canon.
*nods vigorously*
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*hugs you*