WEAKNESS
Title:Weakness
Characters: Dean and Sam Winchester
Rating: T
Summary:And, here I am, rocking back and forth, cradling in my arms what's left of my baby brother. But, he's not dead.
Not yet.
Spoilers: This story happenes in the fourth season, so there's several mentions about it. There's also some small mention of season one and three, but nothing major.
Warnings: In this story, there's some blood, a few cursing words and very depressing thoughts.
Disclaimers: I don't own anything!! All the things that you recognize belong to the show and its owner. I made this story for fun and not for money. The only thing I own is my dreams and my crazy imagination.
Author's note: Hi guys! I'm Ally, well, this is my first SPN fanfiction and well.....I'm a bit nervous so I hope that you like it. First of all, I would like to dedicated it to my beloved friend Soncnica. She has become a great friend this last months in the good and specially in the bad moments of my life and she's the reason I wrote this, because she encouraged me a lot to do it and help me and advise me when I couldn't see the light with it. Besides, she checked it over a lot of times for mistakes (and I'm very thankful, because my English is not my language, so if there's still mistakes, they're all mine). And the most important think it's that she's able to put up with me, something it's not very easy specially if I got carried away....... ;). So thank a lot sweetheart, this one is for you.
Now the story.
Weakness
What happened? What went wrong? How did I end up like this?
I don't know.
But here I am, sitting on this cold hard floor in the heart of a mountain with darkness surrounding me. My only light is a small flashlight, but I can see it all.
I'm trapped.
We're trapped.
And, here I am, rocking back and forth, cradling in my arms what's left of my baby brother. But, he's not dead.
Not yet.
It's difficult not to tell otherwise, with this thing protruding from his chest and back, and with his blood bathing both of us and dribbling out of his mouth. God, what am I going to do? His lips are turning blue...
He's shaking (he's so cold) but he's breathing (barely). He's still holding on. For me. Because he knows that I can't live without him.
I won't live without him.
I'm weak.
He's not gonna make it. I know that, but my heart (my soul) doesn't and it's revealing, threatening to leave my chest in order to escape the pain.
In order to escape the truth.
I'm weak.
In this moment, while I'm holding him, I remember the first time I got to do it. He was the most tiny, pure and innocent essence I have ever seen. He was our light. My light (and he still is). The only light we had left when the demons took her away from us.
I remember all the times I held him during all the years when he was hurt, sick or scared. Pretending I was the one comforting him, taking care of him. But, really, he was the one doing it. Comforting me.
Because I needed him. I need him.
I'm weak.
I can't lose him (but I'm gonna).
I just can't. But, really, I'd already lost him. I lost my little brother that fateful night when I killed him. Not that knife. Me. When I sold my soul, I killed him. Because I was weak.
I am weak.
I created the monster They tell me he is. They told me to stop him, to kill him before he destroys us all. But, how am I supposed to kill someone who's already dead? Already lost?
He moans lightly, his hand clutching at my shirt with what little strength he has left. Meanwhile, his blood is still falling and I close my eyes… I can't watch it. Can't watch his blood run freely. Can't do it.
I'm weak.
I hug him more tightly to my chest (God, he's so weak) while one of my hands caresses through his hair, and lots of senseless words of comfort leave my mouth trying to soothe him. Trying to soothe us. He opens his eyes for only a moment, a brief moment before he closes them again, overflowed by pain.
But his message is clear.
"Let me go".
I can't.
I'm weak.
He knows it. He knows that he's dying and he knows he can't keep going (he hasn't been able for a long time, but he had to). He doesn't have the strength nor the will to live anymore. Because I took one of those two things from him when I died and the other one, when I called him a monster.
"If I haven't known you, I would hunt you".
What a lie.
Now I realise that I've been lying to him for a long time, both of us lost in the sea of lies They've told us.
Because I'm weak.
But, I love him. I love him more than life itself. I love him beyond my weakness. I know what I have to do now. I know how to not be weak anymore. I know how to be strong. Finally. I know what I have to give away.
And now I must show him how much I love him by letting him rest, by letting him be free.
By letting him go (But, God, I'm so tired).
"Sammy, it's okay. You can let go now. You don't have to fight anymore".
He opens his eyes and this time he doesn't close them again (so much pain in them, but it's not only physical). His mouth moves. But no words leave it, only more blood and a gurgling sound (he can't breathe). But his gaze is filled with worry, love and only one question:
"And you?"
And I've called him selfish.
Bitterness fills me and words get stuck in my throat. But I have to continue. I have to be strong. For him (because I love him).
"Don't worry Sammy. I'll be okay. I'll find a way to get out of here and I'll be home with Bobby in no time. I won't do anything stupid this time.
He doesn't believe me, why would he?
" Hey, look at me. Look at your handsome, fantastic and unique big brother. You don't always get the chance to do it, do you Sammy?
I'm joking. We're trapped in this sorry excuse of a mountain and he's dying and I'm fucking joking. What's wrong with me? To hell, with the "no chick-flick moments rule". As I'm about to tell him how much I love him, he opens his blodied mouth and, this time, a raspy whisper leaves it:
"It's Sam, jerk."
"Bitch." I answer automatically. He doesn't want a chick-flick moment either. I think, he already knows how much I love him. He always has.
As he's struggling to breathe, a lonely tear travels down his cheek, mixing with his blood. He's crying, but he's not the only one. It's nearly time. Still, I force one of my infamous smile and joke with him, one last time:
"Shhh, calm down little brother. Think of all the things that you are going to do now in heaven, all the chicks that you'll be able to flirt with. Oh man! If I were you, I would try to get it on with like Marylin Monroe, man, what a woman!"
His eyes are glazing and his breathing is now nearly non-existent, but he's not letting go. He's still worried about me, about all of us.
"And don't worry so much tiger. I'll finish all this dirty job and this damn war. And then I'll take some time off, maybe go to Florida, with all the parties and all that women, huh what do you think? But it won't be the same without you riding shotgun with me and without arguing with you about your girly music. I'm gonna miss you so much bro" (I love you). I struggle with the last words, but I think he understands.
As one of my tears travels down my face and falls on his forehead, he looks at me one more time, sending one last message filled with love.
"Thanks".
His eyes close now, his body going limp and cold in my arms and his breath ceases. And while his soul is leaving his body, an air of pure stillness surrounds him, because he's in peace now, more than he has been in a long time. More than he had been in all his life. A small smile on his relaxed face is telling me this. It's telling me I've done the right thing. And my love for him is enough to get me to move on, it's enough to overcome my weakness.
Isn't it?...
No, it isn't.
I lied to him.
Because I'm weak. More than I've ever been. And I won't be living without him. Ever.
So, here I am, sitting on this cold hard floor in the heart of a mountain with darkness surrounding me completely now. Because it's been hours since I told my last lie, since I let my weakness win. I don't need light anymore.
Because, I'm weak, and, now, I'm alone.
So, here I am, with what used to be my most precious possession still in my arms (so cold and so still) and only one more bullet left in my gun (but it's enough).
Because I'm weak and I'm still here (but not for long). Waiting for angels and demons who aren't going to come. Waitin for those sonofabicthes who made our lives pure hell with their hollow promises.
But, it doesn't matter anymore, because my angel is already gone.
So, I pres the gun to my temple as I reconsider one last time how weak I am, but it's over now...
I'm sorry...
A loud gun shot reverberated in his head, but, in reality, it was his own gasp for air that woke him up... it was strange... one minute he was with Sam in the cave and now... there was a car passing by, headlights shining into his eyes...
"Sam..." he whispered into the dark room and untangled his arms from the sheet.
He got up, all sweaty and still trembling from the nightmare (or the memory?) and went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face.
He looked himself at the mirror and he didn't recognize the person who was looking back at him.
He was pale.
He was thin.
And he had dark bags under his eyes after days of nearly no sleeping and too much dreams.
But what got his attention were his eyes, they hold something that hadn't been there before.
Something that wasn't there in the cave.
He caressed the mirror trying to understand what it is. Could it possible be...?
A groan captured his attention and he spun his body around, followed the noise as he returned to the bedroom and saw Sam lying on the bed next to his, trembling.
And everything came back to him once again...
Yes, they had been trapped in that damn cave.
Yes, Sam had been gravely injured.
Yes, he had thought that his love for him could overcome his weakness.
Yes, he had asked him to let go...
But his little brother hadn't let go.
No, he hadn't.
Instead he had had (and still had) enough strength for both of them. So he had hold on until a rescue team (called by someone who had seen the cave collapsed) had found them and taken them to the nearest hospital.
The damage had been huge. Lots of internal injures, blood loss and an infection have complicated things, but Sam never let go. Not when angels came to threaten him. Not when demons came to poison his mind. Not when They all came to take him away. Because, he had an invincible strength which was based on his love and trust for his big brother. On their brotherhood. And it's always been there, reflecting in his eyes.
And that was the spark which was now in Dean's eyes. It was the strength he had been missing. And his little brother had given it to him.
And now, he wasn't weak anymore.
Now, he had trust and hope.
Now, he had love.
Now, he had strength.
Now, he had his brother.
And they were both gonna make it.
Together.
So here we are guys, I hope that you liked it, soooooooo pretty pretty please (giving you her best puppy dog eyes) leave me a review. Tell me if you like it or not, and if there's somtehing you don't like tell me what it is, so I can learn for the next one. If you leave a review, I'll give you a cockie ;)-
Bye bye guys, I'll see you in my next story.
Ally