A/N Okay then. This is dedicated to TheResurrectionist, who wanted a happy Samifer fic, and I tried and then this happened. Sorry about that. Anyway, angst, angst and angst. Everybody got that? Good. :) ~Sammy
I could hear him.
Talking to me, always talking.
It was wrong. Everybody said it was.
And they were right. It was horrible.
It was dark, and evil.
It was blackness and the devil.
Still, he spoke, and I listened. What other choice did I have? There was nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide where he couldn't find me. He said that we were meant to be together. That I had been created just for him. Nobody else.
He hated Jess. Hated dad. Hated mom. Hated Dean.
Hated them, because I was theirs, but that wasn't how it was supposed to be. I belonged only to him.
And he belonged only to me.
Dean was standing next to me, his hand in his pocket, probably curled around the rings.
His shoulder brushed against mine as he stepped just slightly ahead of me, shielding me, even though it was futile.
It was all on me.
Dean's presence should have been reassuring, should have comforted me. It didn't.
Because he was there, and he was smiling.
His vessel's skin was peeling and blistered, horrendous. The window behind him was frosted over, a primitive pitchfork traced into the ice.
He was smiling.
Smiling, as if he had always known that it would come down to this. He had known. How many times had he predicted that I would say yes one day? In Detroit? In these very same words?
"Fine, you win. Yes. I'm saying yes."
A flash of light, and his blistered vessel collapsed.
Strong hands held me back, constricting, restraining, immoveable. Terrifying.
But they were perfect. They were large and bright and impure and tainted. But still, they were gorgeous; they was more heavenly than any angel, more twisted than any demon.
Just like you. A voice resounded within me, and I knew that it was he who spoke.
The arms were so comfortable, I fit into them perfectly. Like they had been made for me.
But I had to fight them. Had to struggle against the beautiful warmth. For Dean. I owed him that much. I owed the world that much.
His voice was reproachful now. You owe the world nothingSam. You do not owe anybody.
But I did. Oh, how I did. So many mistakes had been made. Too many mistakes. I could not be forgiven, it was unforgivable. All I could hope for was eventual understanding. This was my punishment. My apology. My redemption.
He growled. You do not need to apologize. There were no mistakes made. There was only Destiny, and its fulfillment. You need no redemption. You are perfect.
I watched as he took control of my body. As my lips twisted into a smile that wasn't mine. As he moved my arms and legs. As he spoke to my brother in not-my words. As he took over, and it was right. It wasn't like being possessed, wasn't like being trapped in a corner of my mind, helpless. No, it was so different. I was complete. He filled those gaps I hadn't even realised existed. We fit together like being apart was the only mistake that was made.
But there was Dean, and I was not going to fail my brother again.
I fought and struggled against the arms, but my heart wasn't in it. I just couldn't. I'd failed. Just like I always did.
You've never failed, Sam. You've just always tried to achieve the impossible.
And Dean was on the ground.
Unconscious, not dead. I promised I would keep him alive Sam.
And then he moved my hand and picked up the rings, pocketing them, because he knew.
He knew what I was going to do, and still he kept them.
Then we were in that room full of dust and mirrors and all of those people. The people who'd manipulated me, who'd led me on, who'd broken me.
Do you not want revenge Sam? Do you not want to give back to them every second of hurt they caused you? Do you not wish to make them feel your agony? Do they not deserve your anger?
I snapped. I blacked out. I lost a losing battle. I gave in. I said yes.
I tried not to think about the blood that had coated my hands just a while ago. Tried not to think of the rage that had clouded my mind. Of the fact that I had absolutely no control. Of the fact that Adam was standing in front of me – us – and that he was going to destroy our brothers. Of the fact that I couldn't care less. Tried not to think of how content I was to let him take over, to just lie in those arms for the rest of eternity.
And then there was music, Dean's music, and the rumble of an engine, the impala, and then a voice speaking, my brother.
The arms tightened around me as I watched as he told Dean that he wasn't a part of this any more. I almost cried in relief. He was keeping his promise, he wasn't going to hurt Dean.
Then there was Cas throwing fire and yelling something ridiculous.
Michael and Adam went up in flames, and the arms around me shook in silent, furious sobs.
Castiel was gone in a squelch and a splatter of blood.
Bobby collapsed to the ground, his neck twisted to an odd angle.
My fault.
I struggled, but the arms refused to relent, still holding me in that ridiculous embrace.
And Dean- oh God, Dean. He was lying against the impala, the windshield shattered, his face bruised and battered, his eyes swollen shut, he was hurt.
He had broken his promise. He had lied.
I will never lie to you Sam.
But he did, and now there would be hell to pay.
The army man saved the world. The army man saved Dean.
While he was overwhelmed with the barrage of my memories, of all the times I had had Dean, I told him that he would have to let me go before I destroyed him. Because I would. For Dean, I would do anything.
Does he truly mean so much to you?
More than he could ever know. Dean was my lifeline, he was my reason for living, he was who I wanted to save, the rest of the world could rot to hell for all I cared.
But… You are mine. Not his, mine. Nobody else can have you. We belong to each other. Is that not enough?
It wasn't. It could've been. But it wasn't. Because there was Dean.
He cannot have you Sam. I will not allow it. We are complete together. I will not let us be separated. It would kill you too.
If all he wanted was me, I could give him that. I had to give him that. My very soul was at peace when those arms were around me. I was whole with him. I wasn't broken or tainted. I wasn't an abomination. I wasn't the idiot who jumpstarted the apocalypse. I was just Sam.
That in itself is something to be proud of.
So I made a deal. I would stay with him, forever, if he let Dean go. If he let the apocalypse go. If he let his need for revenge go. Then we could be whole together forever.
I will Sam. I have. I've let it go. Come with me.
I was in control again, but the arms didn't let go. They were still there, holding me upright, even as I stumbled through it all.
Dean slid to the ground, tears streaming down his broken face. I said some reassuring words, said that it was okay. Because it was. It would be. Because I would be with him.
Tossed those rings, said those words, watched our eternity open up as a hole in the ground.
Then Adam and Michael were there, and they weren't letting me leave with him.
I pulled them down with us. And then there was silence.
Dean and kept telling me not to scratch at the wall.
I didn't.
Or well, I tried not to.
Little chips of the wall peeled away with every second.
And that feeling of missing something grew stronger.
Something was behind that wall. Something I needed. Someone I needed.
But I could not scratch.
I would not scratch.
I remembered everything.
And it hurt.
Not the fires. Not the blades. Not the ice. Not the blood. Not the screams. Not the burning Grace. Not the torture.
It hurt to be apart from him.
And then he was right there. In front of my eyes.
'Not real', Dean had said. 'We got you out Sammy.'
And that was good, right? It was good that my soul was no longer wasting away in hell. It was good that I had been rescued. It was good to be with Dean again.
If it was good, why did it feel so wrong?
In the nights, when Dean would finally pass out from exhaustion, I would watch him. Watch as he ran stakes through Dean's still form, as he set fire to the motel room, as he chattered away incessantly. Watched, and I smiled.
And that? Well, that felt right.
He would never let me sleep.
You swore we'd have eternity Sam. I'm taking my forever.
Castiel was screaming.
He was gone.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
The gaps were back. The gaps I never knew existed until they were filled, and then torn open again.
The gaps that left me empty inside.
The gaps that nothing could fill.
Dean tried to help, he did.
He didn't fail; he simply undertook an impossible task.
It was too silent, too dark.
Then, as I was falling into the abyss of sleep, I heard him.
We still have an eternity waiting for us Sam. I'll be waiting for you.
It was finally time. The final task. The gates of hell, closed forever.
What did it mater that I felt like I was tearing my heart out with my bare hands? What did I matter that I was in love with yet another evil? What did it matter that I was destroying every chance I ever had of finding that evil again? What did it matter, because, in the grand scheme of things, this was better.
Then, the prophet deciphered it, and I wasn't shattered anymore.
Kevin had tears in his eyes after he read out his translation.
Garth had walked out of the room.
Castiel had lamented in silent Enochian.
Dean had fallen to the ground right where he was, trembling.
I had laughed.
'Human blood and Demon blood,
Mortal soul and Archangel Grace.
Sacrificed to the Gates,
To the Prince of Darkness.
Eternity with the fallen Son,
And Hell is shut forever.'
Hello Sam. Is it time for eternity yet?
It's time. It always was.
I missed you Samuel.
I missed him too.
Eternity was the gates of hell closing forever.
Eternity was the Prince of darkness shining so bright.
Eternity was the morning-star's arms around me.
Eternity was the angel of music singing.
Eternity was him.
Eternity was Lucifer.
A/N Do I regret this? Nope. Am I just asking for trouble by posting this? Maybe. Am I running out of tissues to give away? Definitely. Review if you want me to send you some light-weight invisible tissues for free. Sorry again. :) ~Sammy