Well. It happened. Just like he said it would. He turned. He changed. He became the thing they hunt. He became the last thing he ever wanted to be.
And he couldn't stop it. He tried so hard. He fought so hard. For the first few seconds it was happening he even thought maybe his brother was right.
"Whatever this is. You can fight it!"
But no. For the first time in a long time his brother was wrong. The only time he didn't want to be proven right.
Sam was right. He couldn't fight it. The urge to kill took over his entire body like when you shiver from being out in the cold for too long. Your body just reacts to the need to do something, anything to deal with the want in it. The need in it. He didn't want to hurt the mother with the baby, but he needed to. He didn't want to kill the man on the phone with his daughter, but he needed to.
He didn't want to hurt Dean, but he needed to.
And as those feelings started to fall away from his body, he realized what he had just done.
He came bolting threw the motel room door like he was drowning in water and on the other side was the only oxygen left. He threw himself in there like his life depended on it. And Dean, Dean was just sitting on the bed flipping threw channels. Dean glanced at his brother and shook his head.
Aww Sammy, it only eleven o'clock and you're already drunk?
Cause Sam had said he was going out to a bar right? Just needed to be alone for a while, right?
But Dean quickly shook that idea when he saw Sam standing up and walking like any other sober person. Sam wasn't drunk. Sam was different. Dean knew this, but only for a second before the first punch was thrown.
Sam fought as if in a trance. His face stayed determined and set on one thing, to make sure that Dean did not make it out alive. Each punch hit dead on, and landed them selves in the places only someone trained to fight would know to hit. But Dean didn't go down easily. He tried his hardest to defend himself with out hurting Sam, because he knew this wasn't Sam, not really. Dean fought hard and even injured Sam's leg. Dean pushed his foot on to his brother's ankle and then kicked hard on his brother's knees. It's the only thing he could do since Sam was restraining his hands. Sam heard his leg snap and let go of Dean. Sam couldn't walk any more.
Sam collapsed to the floor, but even with a broken leg, was able to knock Dean down. He fell hitting his head on the corner of a dresser. A huge gash quickly formed on the right side of his head and he went down completely. But 'Sam' didn't stop there. He pulled out a knife from his back pocket and drove it into his brother's shoulder. Then he continued this heartless action by twisting it slightly and pulling the knife back out regardless of his brother's pleas to stop, and not do this because it was him, his brother.
But after Sam pulled out the knife, and saw his brother start to form tears in his eyes, the human in Sam started to come out. And when what he had just done started to come into focus, Sam quickly gasped and collapsed back down, he was so exhausted.
After about five seconds of rest he shot back up and started to evaluate the damage he had done to his brother.
Dean was bleeding from his head and his shoulder. Sam doubted anything vital had been hit, but Dean was bleeding, not bad enough to bleed out for a few hours, but still his brother was bleeding. Dean had cuts and bruises quickly forming all over his arms, and when Sam lifted Dean's shirt he found a huge bruise on his stomach. A few of Dean's ribs were definitely broken. But the worst part was that Dean probably had a concussion, and would not be able to sleep until Sam got him to a hospital.
Get him to the hospital. That would be interesting to attempt since his leg was obviously broken. Sam could barely carry him self out the door much less carry himself and Dean to the hospital.
"Oh Dean… I'm so, so sorry…" Sam began, he could not even put into words how sorry he actually was. Dean had looked better after his heart attack.
"Sam… Don't worry… I just have to rest," Dean said, his eyes were closed and he looked as though he was quickly drifting into sleep.
"No, Dean you can't. You have a head injury, you have to stay awake until I can get you to a hospital." Sam said sympathetically. He pulled himself over to his brother and took off his shirt. He winced as discreetly as possible. His brother could not see him in pain, not now. Sam wrapped his shirt around his brother's shoulder, anything to try and slow the bleeding. Dean's face stayed tight in pain as if he was trying his very best to hide it.
"Did I hurt you? Are you… okay?" Dean asked seriously, the last few minutes just seemed like a blur, everything had happened so fast his brain barely had a chance to catch up.
Sam looked back at his broken leg and then back at Dean before whispering, "Yeah, Dean. I'm fine."
Sam reached in his pocket for his cell phone. It wasn't there. He said a silent prayer before reaching into his back pockets. But his prayers were not answered when he found absolutely nothing. There was no phone in this motel room, there were barely anyone else staying there, so no one to hear their cries for help. They were stuck.
Sam tried his hardest to hold back tears when he realized he wasn't going to be able to get his brother out of this motel room. They were staying right there until someone found them.
Find them. Yeah right.
Sam snapped out of his worthless thoughts. They weren't doing anything for his dying brother. Especially when he saw that Dean was shaking almost uncontrollably.
"What's wrong Dean, why you shaking like that?" Sam asked trying his hardest to bend over his brother without moving his leg.
Dean's gaze moved from the ceiling to his brother's face before he choked out, "Cold, Sammy"
Sam nodded and pushed his hand to his side looking for where he put down his coat. His hand found nothing. Then he remembered. When he was in that lady's house he heard police cars zooming towards the house, Sam jumped and ran out threw the back door, leaving his coat on the ground. The coat with the hotel business card in the pocket. Maybe the cops would find them after all.
Sam sat up and pulled himself over to the bed with all his strength. He stripped the bed of its blanket before pulling himself over to Dean. He covered his brother's shaking form with the blanket before giving himself a second to take in a breath.
"Better?" Sam asked while taking a few breaths.
"Yea…" Dean lied in a shaky voice. The thin blanket that had been thrown over him was doing nothing to stop his shaking, and he still felt like he was out in a snowstorm with summer clothes on. This constant movement made him even more tired, and his eyes were starting to close a lot more often. Sam quickly noticed this and stepped in.
"Dean come on, stay awake, please. Ok? Talk to me, talk to me about anything," Sam urged. He would not let his brother sleep in fear that he wouldn't wake up if he did, even though he knew it would be torture for his brother to stay awake while he was in pain.
Dean closed his eyes and reopened them looking away from his brother. He tried to take in a bigger breath than his broken body could handle and he broke out into a fit of coughs. When he stopped, Sam looked down at his brother horrified. There was blood around his mouth. Which meant that Dean was bleeding internally. Just what they needed now.
"Why… Why d-did you h-hurt me-e?" Dean stuttered. It was the only obvious question. Dean wanted to know why his brother had looked at him with such hate in his eyes while he beat him almost to death. Why his brother had inflicted such ruthless pain onto him and then suddenly apologized and began helping him.
Sam's eyes came from Dean's mouth to his eyes and decided he wouldn't tell Dean about him bleeding internally, it would just be something else for him to stress over. Sam sighed as a tear fell down his cheek. Dean's eyes were meeting his and they gave off a feeling of such fear that it made Sam afraid of himself. Dean was afraid of his brother and for his brother, "I didn't mean to Dean, I don't know what's wrong with me…" Sam stopped and searched his brother for understanding, but found nothing. Dean was expressionless. Sam swallowed some tears falling into his mouth, "Dean, I'm so sorry but I'm going to fix this ok?"
Sam examined his brother's head. That injury wasn't bleeding badly too badly but it needed to be wrapped. Sam pulled himself over to the closest bed again and ripped off the sheets. He painfully made his way back to Dean and then ripped a long strip to wrap around his brother's head.
When Sam lifted his brother's head, Dean gasped and winced from the movement. Something as simple as his head being lifted two inched above the ground made him want to throw up. The younger brother wrapped Dean's head as quickly as possible and then took his hand into his. Maybe if he could comfort Dean, he would try harder to stay awake.
Dean was confused. Why wasn't Sam calling an ambulance? Why wasn't he trying to get Dean to the Impala? Why hadn't he seen Sam stand up once? What was the real reason Sam had done this the first place?
"Sa-am, I d-don't underst-stand. W-why don't you c-call an ambul-ence?" Dean asked.
Sam looked away before replying, "I don't have my phone,"
Dean looked around. Sam knew what he was going ask next, but let him ask it anyway, "Im-pala?"
Sam shook his head, "I can't walk bro, my leg…"
"D-did I…"
"No, Dean I tripped and hurt it, ok? None of this is your fault, ok? Don't ever think this is your fault." Sam said a little more sternly than he had intended to.
They sat in silence for what seemed like forever. Sam only checked in every once and a while to make sure his brother wasn't asleep, but it was obvious that Dean was going threw a constant battle with staying awake. After what seemed like and an hour Sam realized his brother was slowly drifting little by little.
"No, Dean you have to stay awake ok? Talk to me…"
Dean moaned a little, but didn't move. His whole body was in pain, "Samm-yy…" He whispered.
"Yeah Dean. Tell me, tell me anything," he said now hovering over his brother a little bit. His leg was in a lot of pain, and knew that he would probably not be able to walk on that leg after this was all over. But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered right now was Dean.
"C-can I call y-you S-Sammy?" He whispered. Normally this would be a joke, because Sam would never say yes. But this time he asked it so seriously, like he would really listen to whatever his brother told him to call him.
This request brought Sam to cry silently. "You can call me whatever you want, big brother," Sam whispered back now taking Dean's hand back into his and stroking it gently.
"W-what are w-we g-gonna d-do, S-sammy?" Dean asked.
Sam didn't know. He had no idea how he was going to get them both out of this alive. They were completely stuck there and he had no idea how to tell this to Dean. Sam had always depended on Dean to take care of him, but for the first time it was Sam who needed to take care of Dean.
"Someone's gonna find us, ok Dean? Someone's gonna find us real soon," Sam cooed, not only for Dean, but for himself, "Don't worry about anything. Focus on staying awake, I'll stay up with you, ok? I'll be right here the whole time,"
Sam watched Dean wince and try to shift around a little, "What is it Dean?"
Dean took a big breath, "I'm a l-little un-comfot-t-tble…" he said.
"What can I do?" Sam asked, he wasn't really sure how to make his brother feel better.
Dean tried to grin a little and then whispered, "C-could I p-put my h-hea-d-d on your l-lap?" Sam was immediately taken back to the when he was a little kid. He was convinced something or someone was in his closet, and begged his little brother if he could sleep in his bed with him. Of course Dean always said yes.
Sam forced a smile and nodded. Sam sat up a little more and painful pushed his legs straight out. The position wasn't particularly comfortable, but it allowed him to pull Dean's head and shoulders onto his lap. He put his arm under his older brother's head, trying to provide a make shift pillow. The move from the ground to his brother's lap was slightly painful for Dean, but as soon as he found his way into a settled position, it was all worth it.
Sam knew Dean only had a couple hours left. He wasn't bleeding much, but he knew that eventually his brother would have too little blood to stay conscious. Sam prayed that these cops weren't as stupid as some of the other ones they had encountered in the past.
Dean looked as if he was having trouble breathing now. Sam thought for a minute and then came to the conclusion that the blanket was too heavy a weight for his brother's lungs to handle.
"You want me to take off your blanket?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded, amazed at how his brother had practically read his mind. He could handle being a little cold, but he couldn't handle not breathing.
Sam removed the blanket form his brother and rubbed his arms with his free arm, attempting to warm him up. Sam had no idea what to say to his brother. He didn't know how he would be able to convince his brother he didn't want to hurt him, and he didn't know why he did it. But he knew he would never be able to find the right words.
Sam sighed and decided to take a chance. He looked at his brother's eyes and then began; "Dean, you know that I love you right?" he saw his brother nod and continued, "I need you to know, that what ever that was it wasn't me."
Dean nodded slightly before whispering, "Ch-christo,"
Both of the brothers were actually sad when nothing happened. It would have been a relief if this wasn't really Sam, that he was possessed. At least then it really wouldn't be him.
"I love you Dean, and as soon as we get out of here, and get you better, we're gonna figure out what this is, and fix it, ok?"
This heartfelt moment was interrupted by the slam of the door, and the shouts for Sam to get his arms in the air. Sam hesitated, as whatever was in him started to come back into the open. 'Sam' grinned, turned his head and began to reach for the knife lying next to him. His actions were interrupted by the stentorian sound of the bullet. The bullet that pierced Sam directly in the heart.
That's when Sam came back, but just long enough to look down at his brother, silently apologizing for putting him threw all of this. Sam then collapsed to the floor, giving Dean a clear view of the policewoman who had killed his brother.
"Sam!" Dean yelled, suddenly finding his voice when he realized that his brother was dead.
He tried his hardest to pull himself up, but he was too weak to, and his body would no comply with the demands he was trying to set on it. Dean began to sob, he knew that bullet had hit dead on, and that his brother had to be dead by now. He wasn't invincible. Dean sobbed loud harsh sobs as he rolled off his brother, and tried his best to pull himself over with one arm, knowing that this action could completely wear him out.
When Dean saw his brother's lifeless face, even though it was a couple feet away, he gave up, and let his body collapse down. Dean knew he was going to be ok. Physically. He knew the police would get him to the hospital in a matter for 10 minutes, and he would be fine. But he would never be fine, because his brother was dead. And there was nothing he could do about it. For the rest of his life, this moment would stay with him in the worst possible way. He couldn't hear the police officers yelling, or feel the hands trying to get him to the ambulance. He was completely paralyzed in this darkness that was consuming him. He slowly drifted into unconsciousness and all he could do before falling into it was pray he would never wake up.