Disclaimer: Really? If I did own the brilliant show of Supernatural…well…I don't, so it doesn't matter.
Summary: In the aftermath of his brother's death, he struggles to live again. Set after season 3 finale. Gift for Sparkiebunny
A/N: Thanks to my awesome beta, Miles333, and to Sparkiebunny for being fantastic! This one's for you, C! : D
Set: After the season three finale.
Warning: My first attempt at getting into Sam's head instead of Dean's, and it's quite dark. You have been warned.
He's falling.
Going down, a hundred miles an hour.
He always had his brother to lean on, to hold him, to keep him from falling. Now he's gone, and really, how long can he stand on his own?
His brother…dead. For him.
If he thought the pain of Jess's and his father's deaths had hurt, they were nothing like what he felt now.
He can't breathe; the sadness, the pain, the hurt, it's all threatening to drown him. But would that really be so bad if he's finally reunited with Dean?
He's going through the motions of fighting, of coping, of living. Faking it somehow. He's walking through the part, but how long can he keep it up? Before he breaks?
Nothing around him is real anymore, nothing's right.
His life is a lie, and eventually, he's sure he can believe it.
That should scare him, but it doesn't.
The only thing that scares him now is the thought of how he's supposed to live the rest of his life without his brother.
He's making a show, with the smiles, I'm fine, don't worry about me. And he's hoping they won't see through it.
He wants to scream at them. That he's not fine. That he'll never be fine again unless he has his brother back. That all he wants to do is die. But he doesn't.
He feels like he's trapped in a never-ending cycle. Repeating the same things over and over.
Pain, guilt, anger, fear…the emotions are engulfing him and he can't separate them from one another anymore.
He's wavering, tipping, close to that gray line that separates white from black, good from evil, light from dark. He wishes his brother was here to pull him back from the edge; he's pretty sure he can't do it himself. And once he steps over that fragile line…he won't be able to come back.
Will he stay like this forever? Sleepwalking through the rest of his life?
He doesn't want to be doing this…going through the motions of surviving instead of living. But here he is, and Dean's there and really, it's his entire fault.
He's lost his identity, lost the man he once was, lost everything he once knew somewhere along this twisted line. Because now, he can't recognize who he is anymore. What do you do, when you look in the bathroom mirror and don't know the person who is staring back at you?
If someone looks at him now, looks at those hard, emotionless cold eyes, they wouldn't see that he's broken. Scared, confused, and more vulnerable than he's ever been before. He's just a shell of his former self now. He's lost his other half, his brother.
He lives on pain, pills, memories, and way too much caffeine now. What he's doing is self-destructive, but he can't really find it in himself to care anymore.
He's just the screw-up, the black sheep of the family, the freak who got his brother dead. So he figures that what he's doing to himself is his punishment for everything else he's done.
He was never the protagonist, which was his brother. He's sure he's forever destined to be the antagonist, the one who destroys everything he touches, and doing what he does…he suppose that it's an attempt to punish himself for that fact because it's the only thing he can do.
He's going downhill, too fast to put the brakes on, too tired to care if he crashes and burns anymore.
It's always been Dean and Sam. Together. Sam and Dean. Together.
Now it's only Sam. Alone.
He hates it.
He's tired of his life, tired of feeling this sense of worthlessness that is suffocating him. Tired of living this way, like he just doesn't care anymore, even though it's the truth.
It's an uphill struggle everyday and it's rocky footing and every step forward he takes, he takes two backs.
Nothing helps anymore, this sense of lost and confusion and pain is getting too much. And the pills…they keep everything at bay, but they're losing their strength and he's left with a feeling of emptiness that he isn't sure about.
He's coping, though…even if his way of coping is killing as many demons as he can and pills and way more caffeine than he should take and a lot of blame… at least he's pretty sure he is. And that's what counts right?
He's not sure how long he can survive. He's without his brother and being on this downward spiral of self-destruction isn't good, but he's trying to copesurvivelive and really, what more can he to but try to live when all he wants to do is die?
Thanks to C. or Sparkiebunny who is amazing and is the biggest Sam fangirl I know. :D I hope you liked it. :)