Tag to Yellow Fever with a spoiler for Asylum. Sam's cold indifference to the fact that Dean has less than 24 hours to live has bothered me enormously since the first time I watched the episode. He gets increasingly frustrated with the symptoms as they arise, as if Dean has any control over them. As if he's not contributing to the very thing that's going to kill Dean in less than a day. Stress. Paranoia. I watched it again tonight and it absolutely infuriates me. I should stop now before I start listing every instance like, oh I don't know, Sam having Dean pinned against the wall during a hallucination and once it's broken he thumps Dean on the chest and walks away! Grr. Anyway, just a stream of consciousness piece, not my best work, barely edited, but I needed to vent.
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Sitting in the room alone, waiting for his heart to seize up and kill him, listening to it hammering in his ears in the meantime. His chest was tight, it was so hard to breathe, and it just hurt. The shooting pains through his chest and stomach seemed to get worse with every passing second.
He tried to relax and breathe through the pain, but that's easier said than done when the breathing is the pain. Not exactly how he intended to go, especially the alone part. He couldn't remember ever having been so terrified. He could vaguely remember a time when he wasn't terrified, but that felt like years ago. Judging by how he felt right then, he couldn't imagine he was ever truly brave.
Maybe that's why Sam hated him, because he was a coward.
Okay, maybe not hated, but disliked him anyway. Sam had said Dean had come down with the illness because he was a dick and then had tried to backtrack. Dean didn't think he was a dick, couldn't remember really having been a dick to anyone. He had never bullied kids, kicked puppies or tripped elderly people on the bus. Sure, he played the odd prank on Sam, but there was never any malice behind it. It's just what brothers do, right? He had always tried to look out for people, protect them. How could Sam think he was a dick? Was he a dick?
But then again, there was that time in that asylum Sam had shot him with rock salt and then shoved a .45 in his face. Sam had actually pulled the trigger, intending to kill his own brother. His feelings crushed, Dean spent a long time convincing himself it was the effect of Sam's possession by that Ellicot character.
Maybe it wasn't, though. Maybe even way back then Sam wanted to be rid of him. This illness was just convenient, he could do it without getting blood on his hands. Maybe, despite his claims to the contrary, he was happier when Dean was in Hell.
Or maybe Sam despised him because he could not just outrun his awful memories of The Pit. Maybe if he could have just somehow stopped having the bad dreams. He had tried everything he could think of, but he just could not escape the blood and agony of that place. Could never wash it off, never turn his back on it, never forget the awful things he had seen and done.
Since Dean had come down with this ghost sickness, Sam had been cold and impartial about it. Eye rolls and sneers. Even moments after informing Dean he had 24 hours to live and not the full 48, irritation surfaced again.
It was hardly fair of Sam to drag Dean into that scary mill and then be irritated because he was frightened. Of course he was frightened, it was a scary mill! Dean was headed for a death by heart attack due to the illness, and yet Sam kept insisting on dragging him into scary situations. It was clear Sam was trying to do him in.
Didn't really matter now. Sam was gone again. Dean was on the cold, hard floor clutching his chest in agony and Lilith was there to finish him off. He was sorry he'd been frightened, he was sorry he had let Sam down in the end. Then again, maybe with him out of the way his baby brother could be happy again.
