Title: Jar of Hearts
Summary: Nobody knew better what it was like to lose your other half, than the Winchester brothers. Episode Tag 12x20 Twigs & Twine & Tasha Banes. Hurt/Comfort. Brotherly Love.
Warning: Rated T for mentions of death, suicide, injuries, violence and bad language.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All credit for the art goes to 'smallworld'.
When Alicia was on the floor, writhing and squirming and gurgling up blood, Sam hovered over her body, fingers shaking as he tried to figure out how to touch her without causing her more pain.
"DEAAAN!" he bellowed because it was an age-old instinct to turn to his big brother when he needed someone to take control of the situation and to make things better.
He doubted that Dean would be able to save Alicia, but he would at least be there, standing close to Sam and lending comfort as they were forced to watch another friend die. "Hey, shhh... it's alright. Just don't fight it... take a breath— Alicia?"
It wasn't until Alicia's struggles ceased and her eyes closed, head lolling lifelessly to the side that he thought of Max.
Max who never strayed far from Alicia's side, Max who was so obviously a bit older- a little bit more protective, even when they were technically the same age.
Max, who had joked and bantered with his mother and sister not even an hour ago, basking in their presence, soaking up the comfort and reassurance that was his family.
Max, who now came stumbling through the doorway with blood-shot eyes and an expression of raw shock and horror at the sight of his dead sister on the ground.
"Sh- she just—" Sam stuttered uselessly as he straightened up to his full length.
Dean just continued to look at him in a mixture of shock and horror as Max shoved past them and dropped to his knees next to the body. "Alicia?! Please... hey, no… hey—"
Sam looked up to meet Dean's eyes, his eyes filled with guilt and heartbreak.
Max and Alicia had been good kids; good hunters and they deserved better.
Maybe if Sam hadn't let this guy get the drop on him; if only he had paid more attention, then Alicia wouldn't have had to step in to save him and Max wouldn't have lost everything.
"No please. Please…" Max was crying now, his voice reduced to a plaintive whisper as tears streamed down his cheeks and his shoulders shook. His hands were trembling as he ghosted them over his sister's body as if that would somehow bring her back to life. "Not like this… you can't just- oh god."
Sam swallowed hard and looked away, tears stinging in his eyes.
They had seen so many good people die that they had grown almost immune to it, but this was cutting way closer to home than usually.
Alicia and Max had grown up in the business with only their mother and each other to rely on. Their mom hadn't really been around much, which led to the siblings growing up in each other's pockets, depending on each other for pretty much their whole lives.
The parallels had been obvious, sure, but in the end, it was the way these two interacted- the assertive glances thrown at each other to make sure the other was okay- the passing pats to the shoulder or knee- the way they finished each other's sentences that made this so painful to watch.
It spoke of a bond that went deeper than blood and family relations
And now that bond was broken and Max was cradling Alicia's lifeless, blood-spattered body to his chest, burying his face in her hair as if to soak up her residual body warmth, seeking out a heartbeat that was no longer there.
Max let out a hair-raising scream of agony like it was he who had gotten a blade smashed between his ribs and a lone tear spilt from Sam's eyes before he could prevent it from happening.
Running a hand over his mouth, Sam sidestepped his brother and left the room without as much as a glance back at Max, unable to watch the scene unfold.
"Sam," Dean called after him, his voice low and rough with emotion, but Sam ignored him as he shoved out into the hallway and quickened his pace. "Sam, hold up, damn it."
"I need some fresh air," Sam rushed down the stairs, taking two at a time.
He was out the front door and heaving the next second, black spots dancing in the corner of his eyes.
With one arm propped up unsteadily on the Impala's hood, Sam spat a glob of bile onto the damp patch of grass before him, a thin trail of spittle hanging from his lips as he tried to catch his breath.
He wiped it off with a grimace, sweat, blood and tears smearing under his palm.
"Shit," Dean's rough voice suddenly rang out in the night, too close and not close enough. His calloused hands settled on either side of Sam's face, warm and reassuring. "Hey, hey. Look at me."
Sam had a hard time focusing on Dean's face, but eventually, the world around him stopped spinning and his vision became focused again.
"Alright, that's it," Dean kept up a stream of muttered reassurances as he waited for Sam to regain control of his emotions. "Just take a deep breath and try to relax."
"Dean…" Sam rasped out, letting the sound of Dean's voice and the feel of his hands against his cheeks soothe the ragged, frayed state of his nerves. "I should've—"
"Listen to me," Dean said, calmly. His eyes were flashing green in the darkness. "There's nothing you could have done to save her. What happened to her isn't on you."
"She stepped in to save me and—" Sam protested but Dean wasn't having it.
"And if she hadn't done that, it would be us up there instead of them!"
And that was really the crux of the matter.
Alicia was up there dead and it was wrong, so fucking wrong, but Sam felt almost sick with relief, with gratitude, because for once it wasn't them who were left to mourn their other half, but someone else.
This time, just this once, someone else had lost their family- someone else had lost their entire fucking reason for getting out of bed in the morning and it wasn't them.
Sure, they had lost a friend- a good hunter and colleague- but they still had each other.
Sam cleared his throat and let the cool breeze dry the clammy sweat and tear tracks on his skin.
Dean's hands had slipped down to the back of Sam's shoulder, squeezing the tense muscle there.
"You good?" he asked, voice raspy and deep.
Sam closed his eyes and let his brother's presence wash over him.
He nodded jerkily, straightened his shoulders and taking strength in Dean's presence. "Yeah, let's go back in."
'Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid' was what they both thought but didn't say out loud.
Dean sighed and gently patted the side of Sam's face. "Alright, c'mon."
It must have been two or three years later when they met Max again at a Gas'N'Sip in Ohio.
He wasn't alone.
"Oh my god, guys, is it really you? Max, look who I found standing in line behind me!" Alicia grinned from ear to ear as she pulled them in for a hug and then waved for her brother to come join them.
Max looked pale and on edge as he took up a protective stance next to his sister. "Sam, Dean. Good to see you both."
Dean's eyes narrowed as he gave Alicia a glance, lips curling downwards at the thought of what these things had looked like twitching and squirming on the floor, muscles spasming unnaturally. She wasn't human; technically speaking, she wasn't even alive.
"Yeah, uh… it's—" Sam swallowed tightly. "It's good to see you, too."
Dean opened his mouth and then closed it, fingers itching to curl around his gun and put a hole between the eyes of whatever the hell was standing next to Max right now.
He sent a glance over at Sam before fixating Max with a glower. "Max. Can we have a word?"
It didn't sit well with him to leave his little brother alone with that thing, but Sam knew how to defend himself.
Max looked just as reluctant to leave his sister's side and Dean sighed before grabbing the Wiccan by the shoulder and forcefully shoving him outside the gas station.
"Look, it's not what you think—" Max started protesting as soon as they were out of earshot.
"It's not huh?" Dean growled and snatched Max's hand, where he was wearing a large ring with a black stone in it.
"What the fucking hell were you thinking, Max?" Dean grabbed the younger man by the lapels of his jacket and shook him hard, hoping to get some sense into the kid. "You think she would have wanted this? To get bodysnatched by that… that thing in there?"
Max shook his head, tears glistening in his eyes. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't live without her."
I couldn't let him die, Bobby. I just couldn't.
He's my brother.
Dean cursed under his breath and let go of Max's jacket with a little jostle.
He closed his eyes and washed a weary hand over his features, feeling older beyond his years.
When he opened them again, he saw Sam inside with this freak version of Alicia, talking to her like nothing had ever happened, like there was still a beating heart in her chest.
He studied the look of sympathy and guilt in Sam's hazel eyes as their gazes locked through the smudged window glass.
There had been a time in his life where Dean would have given absolutely anything to get to look into his brother's eyes or to hear his voice one last time.
Where he would have gladly taken any version of his brother, human or not, over the lifeless body on that mattress in cold oak or the devastating emptiness that had found him after Sam had jumped into the cage.
"What would you have fucking done?" Max asked as if he was able to read his mind- which, come to think of, he probably did. "If it had been Sam instead of her?"
Dean's eyes flashed dangerously at the mere implication.
He didn't take kindly to other people insinuating that Sam could get hurt.
Max's teeth were clenched, chest rising and falling rapidly as he glanced back inside to where his sister was standing with Sam.
"If you can look at your brother in there and tell me that you wouldn't have done the same damn thing if our situation had been reversed, then fine, I'll put a stop to this."
Dean's mouth turned into a thin, disapproving line as he stared Max down.
He wanted to lie, wanted to say that no way would he have been that stupid; no way would he have sold his soul for some creepy rip-off version of his little brother.
But the truth was that a life without Sam wasn't worth living to Dean and that was never going to change.
And if Sam had died that night instead of Alicia, Dean would have found a way of bringing him back from the dead or of joining him on the other side.
So when Sam came out of the gas stop with Alicia in tow, looking insecure and asking Dean if everything was alright, Dean found himself nodding. "Yeah, let's get going."
He turned around to face Max, understanding passing silently between their eyes before he glanced over at Alicia. "You two take care of each other, alright?"
Alicia smiled and it was so easy to pretend that it was really her. "We always do."
"Good," Dean nodded and slung an arm around Sam's back, gently steering him towards the car.
Dean thought back to the day Max had lost his whole family and how fucking grateful he was to still have his own.
The END.
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