Tag to All Hell Breaks Loose part 2 SPOILERS
A/N: This was originally going to be an AHBL pt2 tag, a one shot short little thing but as usual it grew a little. I had also planned on doing a Crossroad Blues Tag but after watching a little of it I realised that the parallels between the two eps were too strong to ignore so I did a two in one type thing. Not sure if it works but at least I get to do something a bit different. By different I mean slightly different as in it's still angst and it's still Dean that gets to be angst ridden, although Sam get's to join in too, but the format's a little different. Argh anyway hope you like.
Oh yeah follows on from previous fics with some references. This isn't a song fic but there are teeny tiny references.
Rated T for language. Quite a lot of. Dean really should pick another word.
Quotes taken directly from "Crossroad Blues" are in bold. I own nothing by the way.
Summary: Sam crashes back to reality and lashes out at the one person he shouldn't. The hunters attempt to make sense of what awaits. 2 in 1 tag for Crossroad Blues and AHBL 2
Characters: Sam, Dean, Bobby and brief appearance from Ellen
Chapter 1
"I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what she's gonna have to live without you now. What if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul - how do you think she'd feel?"
He felt sorry for the guy sure. He wanted his wife to not die. Who wouldn't? He didn't want to be left alone to wonder about what could have been so he had done what he thought was a damn good idea at the time. A decision to stop the pain even if it wasn't permanent and to hell with the consequences. Literally. Unfortunately he had seen the other side of the coin and knew that a decision like that was done for one reason only - not for his wife but for him. He had told him as much but Sam had stopped him like the pansy he was, hell he was only trying to point out what a fucked up decision it was. Who makes a deal with the devil for crying out loud except for people in movies and crappy plays about morality?
He hadn't meant to hurt the guy's feelings but the urge to set him straight had been overwhelming - I mean who the hell did he think he was fucking Faustus?
Unfortunately he had to admit to himself that there was something bugging him about the whole thing and it was poking it's fucking finger into his brain bugging him and bugging him and all he wanted to do was tell it to shut the hell up. Yes, alright he knew, he wasn't fucking stupid. It didn't take a genius to work it out. He'd had an idea for a long time anyway. He'd known that something between his dad and that yellow eyed son of a bitch had gone down and that had been enough to almost fuck him up completely, but he hadn't known everything although a part of him had always suspected.
But this case had been screaming at him from the get go and he couldn't ignore it anymore. As if he hadn't had enough shit to deal with knowing his dad was dead because of him he now had to face up to the fact that he had not just sold his soul for him but was actually in Hell. Hell as in Hell with a capital 'H', as in down there, the other place, fire, brimstone, devils with pitch forks, not just stuck in a shitty little hick town and feeling somewhat pissed. He had pretended not to think about that or acknowledge that Hell was an actual place or that his Dad could possibly be there but this case had pretty much fucked all that up and yelled at him: "Hey asshole - your Dad's in Hell because of you moronic piece of shit for brains."
Yeah well gee thanks a bunch for that because he really did reminding of how it was his fault and all. It pissed him off that he was supposed to feel grateful when all he ever felt was pissed off. His dad couldn't handle the thought of losing his eldest son because then who the hell was going to look after Sammy and besides parents weren't supposed to outlive their kids were they? How was he supposed to be grateful for being left alone with that knowledge, was he supposed to just keep his chin up and tell himself that hey his Dad was dead sure but at least he still had his health? He wasn't just dead though and now he knew for sure because that bitch had politely informed him of what he already knew and he could tell from the look that Sammy had given him just after he had laid into Evan that he knew too.
It had pretty much sucked out loud from that point on.
--------------------------
It's some time later when it all hits him. Later, after everything had gone to shit and the four of them arrived at Bobby's, to rest and re-group before facing the war that they had allowed to begin. He needs to get started soon because then maybe it will distract him from everything he has to deal with, but he knows that to begin a war with the shape they're in right now would be suicide. Or at least the shape that Dean is in. They can't afford to take stupid risks anymore and they have to be careful because - well because the stakes are much higher now.
He hadn't had the heart to yell at his brother in the graveyard. It's difficult to tear into someone you love when you had been pinned to a tree unable to do anything but watch as they were tormented and mocked. He hadn't heard what it had said to him but he could see his brother's face - that was enough.
Then it had ended. It was an anti climax really. The Demon had been wiped from existence and their life long mission had come to an abrupt end with a whisper and a gurgle like water draining down a plug hole not a cry of triumph. There was no celebrating, no cheers of joy and jubilation and no fan fare just quiet reflection and then it had come to him.
He remembered the look on Bobby's face when they appeared at his front door. He remembered the glances that Dean and Bobby had shared. He remembered the way Bobby had glared at his brother a concealed but unmistakeable hint of fury in his eyes. He remembered the look on Dean's face when he had seen him conscious for the first time. The redness and shadows under his eyes suggested hours of grief and the shedding of private tears that no one had seen. He remembered the hug and the desperation and relief that it held.
In that moment when the truth had revealed itself he had wanted to grab his brother by the collar, to yell his lungs out at him and shake him but Dean had turned to him with eyes that were too weary and beaten and with a look that he never before seen. So he hadn't yelled instead he had told him what he should have told him long ago and hoped it wasn't too little too late and all the while knowing that it was. Even now Dean was oblivious to his worth but maybe if someone had told him exactly what he meant to those around him, to those who loved him then maybe he would never have done something so unthinkable. His mind had been swirling with emotions too high and a relief that was intoxicating and those chemicals in his brain had practically been skipping around singing joyous songs of how everything was going to be lollipops and candy canes from now on.
It was just the chemicals of course and their effects had been temporary and the descent back to reality had been hard, swift and ultimately devastating. Now the chemicals seem to be dragging their feet whining out dirges of woe and misery and they're dragging him down with them.
His own words return to him, his promise to his brother that he would save him no matter what it took but now he thinks how hopeless that sounds and what chance is there of saving the one person who needed and deserved to be saved more than anyone.
He thinks now that it was a foolish thing to say but Dean had looked so broken and lost all he had wanted to do was to take care of him and let him know that somehow they would be ok. But now he doubts if anything will ever be ok again.
He continues to unpack his things in an attempt to feel normal again if only for a few days and he feels a tension in the air that niggles at his subconscious, increasing his irritability without him realising. Darkness in his head - so much darkness and no one to rid him of it. He is tired, he knows that - no exhausted in fact but then it's not every day you are brought back from death to discover that your whole world has been turned on it's head, ripped apart and sucked inside out so that you don't recognise anyway of it and instead of waking up it feels like you have stepped into a nightmare from which there is no waking up. It isn't supposed to be like this, this day was supposed to be the day to end all days but it all starts over again and the weight of it is far too much.
He looks across at his older brother, his sibling, his only surviving family who is flicking through a newspaper like everything is fine, the world didn't just nearly end and he didn't just sell his soul to hell for one pitiful year. His only surviving family who has less days ahead of him than behind and nothing to look forward to in the world beyond except loneliness, fear and pain. No peace, no resting place, no reunion with lost loved ones, just a whole eternity of Hell.
Since finding out the fate of his Dad he had often wondered about Hell and what it was like. He had told himself that maybe it was just emptiness and nothingness and that his Dad had simply ceased to exist and it had helped him carry on even if it was another lie. He sometimes has flashes like pieces of a nightmare which were fleeting and left him with a sense of horror and fear but he could never recall the images that had skipped through his mind as if they were too terrible and hideous for his brain to process.
His body had once been host to a creature of Hell who would have seen these things first hand and he suspects that the images came from that Demon who had made him torture his brother both physically and mentally. He remembers little of the days when his mind wasn't his own but the flashes that come to him from time to time are a constant reminder of the things he had done.
Sometimes he grows afraid that the darkness in his head will consume him and obliterate the man he was, the boy he used to be, Dean's little brother, Sam, Sammy, the youngest Winchester but this was different. This fear, this emptiness was for someone else.
The pain in his head grows and is it fatigue, a result of the collision with a tree, unnatural resurrection syndrome or the irritation initiated by his brother's indifference and he thinks how can he be so relaxed? He throws a shirt on to the bed in that way he knows will get Dean's attention but this time it doesn't.
"You shouldn't have done it."
Dean glances across at him but returns to the paper like he knew he would.
"Did you hear me, Dean?"
"Yeah I heard ya."
He doesn't look up.
"Possibly one of the dumbest things you've ever done. I mean, what were you thinking?"
He turns a page like he thinks he's doing such a great job of pretending to read when it's obvious that he has no idea what the article is about and answers the query as if he's chatting about girls or cars or whatever.
"I wasn't thinking. I had just watched the only family I had left die in front of me and I was a tad pissed. You know how it is."
The black mist in his head continues to swirl and spread mutilating every cell in it's path and he feels no empathy, no sting of guilt and no sliver of conscience he just wants to scream and scream and scream until his throat bleeds and he wants Dean to hear everything.
"I don't even know how to respond to that Dean. You think that makes it ok? You were pissed? You think that's funny? Am I supposed to laugh right about now?"
Dean puts the paper down calmly and glares up him.
"Can we do this some other time? I'm a little tired and you may not have noticed, but my head has seen better days."
Normally Sam would flinch at the hint of anger in his brother tone. The flicker in the light green eyes would be enough to stop him in his tracks but he hasn't felt normal or at least their kind of normal since his spinal cord was severed and his life destroyed, massacred and changed beyond all recognition. He wonders if when Jake cut him with the knife he inadvertently broke the mechanism that always told him when it was time to stop and to settle down before someone's fist collided with his jaw and he's not sure if it's the tiredness, recent events, the fact that he just saw his dad again or his confused mind's attempt at dealing with the fact that his brother is going to Hell in a year but either way a fight seems like such a delicious idea..
"Some other time? When Dean? Next week? Next month? Or...or how about next year... oh wait a minute - too late!"
He starts to pace back and forth, back and forth feeling as if his body is being controlled by someone else and his words belong to another and he hates himself again for the rage pouring out of him and he wishes that he could just stop but there's too much noise in his head. Noise screaming at him, voices talking at him but not one of them does he recognise and he can't make out the words it's all just noise.
They stare at each other for a moment then Dean leans back and crosses his arms surprisingly calm and his voice low and controlled.
"You said you'd do the same, that there was nothing you wouldn't do, so what have you got to be mad at Sam? Because I did the only thing I could do? The same thing that you would have done?"
Sam glares at Dean then looks away again still furious, all thoughts of reigning in his emotions pushed to the side and he turns back to his brother to spill out more of his beaten soul regretting every word as it exits his mouth but he just wants the voices to stop and the screaming and pounding in his head to end but it won't. It won't ever stop because his brother is going to hell and it's his fault.
He breathes in deeply allowing the air to temporarily calm his tongue so that he can explain, let his brother know, help him to understand because then maybe he could understand too.
"I said that there was nothing I wouldn't do for you. For you, Dean, but tell me,how does selling my soul to hell and leaving you all alone to deal with the consequences do you any favours? How do you figure that your decision was for me huh Dean? I would never do that to you because I know exactly what it would do to you and that Dean is the difference between you and me!"
Dean glares at him stunned and Sam flinches at his own cruelty but he's said it now the words are out there floating around in space between them, their echo continuing to stab at Dean's dying soul and pointing it's accusing finger at Sam saying "Look at what you're doing to him."
And there's no taking it back. No going back so he goes on, forwards because there is nowhere else to go.
"You're selfish Dean. Selfish. I think you made that deal for yourself. So you wouldn't have to be alone. But guess what Dean, I'm gonna have to live without you now. How do you think that makes me feel knowing that my life cost you your soul?"
He feels tears in his eyes now and he sees them in his brother's eyes also and he cannot understand why he is doing this, where this cruelty is coming from but there is so much darkness inside nibbling away, little by little and he needs to be rid of it because he can hardly breathe and if he could just breathe then maybe he could make sense of the madness in his head.
There's a painfully long silence and Sam realises he's gone too far but all he feels is hatred now - hatred for himself, for his life that his brother saw fit to place before his own, for their existence and for his past which set about the chain of events that led them here to this point where it feels as if the world as already ended.
"Is that what you think?"
Dean's voice is like a white light striking through the mist reminding him of who he is and why he is here, a drop of cold, ice rain in a hot sea of blood and Sam finds he can no longer look at his brother's face, his face which for once holds no mask and hides behind no barrier. He's looking straight at him his eyes wide and drowning in their own tears, trying so hard to be honest with him and he can offer nothing in return.
"You really believe that I damned myself for eternity just so's I wouldn't have to be alone for what - another forty years? Even if I live that long. Don't you think that's a little screwed up even for me, Sam?"
Sam shrugs blinking back tears of anger and regret and moves away from the bed. Away from Dean and when he speaks again he can only whisper.
"If the cap fits."
Dean stands up from the bed and moves in front of Sam facing him head on and the hackles on his neck rise but he has no reason to fear because Dean's voice is so quiet he hardly recognises it's pitiful whisper.
"I may be screwed up, but I know why I did what I did and I'm not sorry. I did it for you Sam, because you're my little brother and it's my job to look after you. But if you wanna believe that. That I did it for myself, that's fine if it helps you sleep at night."
He turns back to the bed as if he's about to sit back down and his response, the passive retreat, the complete lack of will, sarcasm, accusation in his brother's words seems completely wrong to Sam and it's as if he's stepped into an alternate universe where his brother is someone else and he cannot understand why he isn't angry and why he hasn't hit him yet, how much does he have to push him before he snaps?
The voices continue to fight for control and he feels the surge of anger return although he's not sure if it's anger, grief, or fear that he's feeling now but it seems to be coming out as anger so he supposes it must be, only he can't figure out who he's angry at. Himself? Dean? The Demon? Jake? His Dad? There are too many contenders and too many emotions to consider or deal with so he spits out more bile, more fury and more accusations and hate because then maybe his fucked up soul will stop screaming at him, everything will end and at last there will be silence.
"Sleep? You think I'm gonna be sleeping with this hanging over me you prick?"
Dean spins around suddenly furious and apparently out of patience and his eyes blaze at Sam causing him to flinch a little but not enough to stand down because a part of him is relieved that his brother is still in there.
"You know what Sam? I get it that you're pissed, but I'm the one who's going to hell."
"And you're the one that fuckin' damned yourself you fucking asshole! Why can't you admit it Dean? You were scared and you freaked the hell out and you did the first thing that came into your stupid fuckin' head, just like you always do and then you thought to yourself hey 'I'll turn this hugely moronic thing I just did into somethin' real noble and say I did it for Sammy...' "
Sam doesn't get chance to finish because Dean has grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him hard against the wall his eyes cold and furious but Sam can see the tears and the agony in them and wishes his brother would just knock him out and shut him up, shut out the noise and shut out the dark and the anger and let it all end and if he has to wake up then let it be in the morning because all he can see is darkness and he desperately needs to see light but right now he doubts if the sun will ever rise again.
For a moment there is silence as two pairs of eyes stare into each other and nothing is spoken and Sam watches as Dean swallows, watches the muscles in his jaw flex and tense, sees his lips twitch and his eyes flicker and Sam knows it's because he is close to tears and it's all his fault and he thinks that if Dean doesn't do it for him then he may just pound his own head against the wall until he loses consciousness so that he can sleep and forget what a bastard he's become.
He waits because he thinks Dean is about to speak but first he lets go of him and turns his back stepping away and then he does speak and Sam can't hear his brother, again the sound is of someone else talking and he wonders if it's because his soul's days are numbered.
"You're wrong, Sam. You don't know... there's no way you could know."
In the silence he hears a small sigh and once again he doesn't recognise it and wonders if he's lost Dean already.
"For the last time Sam, I did it for you; I did it because you're my brother and because it's my job to look after you and because...because..."
"Because?"
Dean shakes his head and Sam knows without seeing his face that the tears are close to spilling but not quite there yet and then he finds his voice but it breaks and as it does it just about tears Sam's soul in two.
"Because I screwed it up."
"What?"
"I had one job - one lousy job - and I screwed it up. I let you down... and I let dad down."
He turns to face him again and Sam wishes that he hadn't because the look on his brother's face is enough to make him want to crawl right into hell.
"Tell me Sam, how was I supposed to live with that?"
Sam can hardly believe what he's hearing. How many times does he have to deal with this? How many times does he have to hear this? Sam stares at Dean his own eyes brimming with tears and all he wants to do is to reach for his brother and beg him not to leave him or die and to let him go to hell instead but he doesn't. He doesn't do that because that isn't what Winchesters do and instead he does what Dean would do and what his Dad would do and he conceals the truth because if there's one thing he's learnt lately it's that the truth hurts and gives you nothing but fear and regret and guilt and it's so much easier to be angry than curled up on the floor crying out your insides for the only family you have left who you know you won't be able to save no matter how hard you want it.
He blinks back the tears and swallows the dryness in his throat which is threatening to close up. He shakes his head and then looks his brother in the eye.
"And this is looking after me is it Dean? I mean did you ever stop and think about what it would do to me to lose you like that?"
Dean turns away defeated and weary and sits down on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped hands hanging in his lap.
"I wasn't going to tell you Sammy. It would've been better if you'd kept your mouth shut instead of asking questions like you always do. I didn't mean for you to find out."
Sam nods sneering again.
"Great that's just great Dean. You know that makes it all okay. Now I'm not upset anymore that my brother sold his soul to the devil for one. Fucking. YEAR!"
Dean looks up taking in a deep breath through his nose and Sam looks back into the eyes which are frighteningly bright as the familiar fury returns.
"Have you any idea what it's like Sam? Have you?"
He stands again turning to Sam fists clenching and unclenching and Sam thinks that Dean is definitely going to hit him this time and he's almost willing it to happen.
"Knowing you've lost everything that ever meant anything to you? Watching them die... I held you and... I begged you to come back but..."
He stops again probably because his voice is breaking up and he swallows again and the action looks painful as if he has something stuck in his throat that just won't go away and his face is tensing and all Sam can do is listen to the crescendo of his brother's anger fill the room and tear into him damning him like he knows he deserves.
"Maybe what I did was selfish. Maybe I didn't want to be alone, maybe I felt like I was falling part so I did the only thing I could, well fuckin' sue me Sam! Maybe I should've let you go but if you want an apology then you're gonna be waiting one hell of a long time. Now how about you get the fuck off my back and leave me the hell alone!"
He turns away again and Sam wants to say something intelligent but all he can manage is:
"Fine."
"Fine."
Sam walks to the door, opens it and then slams it behind him and doesn't see Dean pick up the bottle of beer on the table and he doesn't see Dean hurl it across the room but he hears the frustrated scream through tightly clenched teeth and the shatter of glass as the bottle breaks against the door into three hundred and sixty five pieces and then he swears he hears his brother's doomed soul do the same.
TBC
Comments gratefully received
