Title: Substitution

Category: slash

Summary: Sam was not strong enough to keep on living without him.

Note: This takes place during Skin (episode 6, season 1). Let's say Rebecca wasn't there, and let's say Sam had lost consciousness when the shape shifter tried to choke him.

Note number 2 : Feel free to correct any of the mistakes I may have done in English because I'm not a native speaker.

Disclaimer: The show and its character belong to the CW, even though I would like them to belong to me.

Substitution

« Sam! ».

Somebody somewhere was calling out his name but he kept his eyes closed, not sure he could trust his sight.

"Sam, come on, please, Sam, open your eyes"

He still didn't move one muscle, he felt numb, and sleepy, and he knew that if he tried to get up, his body would remind him that he'd just been badly beaten up, by his brother, his brother's evil twin, whatever. But there was more. He hadn't been completely out, he had clearly heard a gunshot, and then a loud thump, and now he wasn't sure if he wanted to open his eyes. Who had won? Who had died? What if he went back on the road with something that wasn't his brother without even realising it? At the thought of it, he felt ill.

"Sam, look at me dammit!"

Go away, go away. Lying there on the wooden floor, Sam wished he could have stayed like that forever. But the person in front of him, whoever they were, wouldn't let that happen, and when Sam failed to respond, they slapped him out of his apathetic state. Strong will can't win against pain and, out of shock, Sam's eyes opened of their own volition.

His vision was blurred at first but soon enough he could clearly see his brother looking back at him, a worried expression on his face. A sigh of relief escaped Dean's lips as he hugged his baby brother tightly.

"Thank god, you son of a …, you scared the hell out of me". He whispered those words in his ear and Sam felt a twinge of hope, but the part of his brain that was saying It's okay, this is your brother shut up completely when Dean's mouth, or whathever-it-was's mouth, found his.

The kiss tasted a lot like salt and a bit like desperation, but the other one didn't seem to care about the tears streaming down Sam's cheeks.

It didn't last long, in a few seconds, the other one was on his feet, walking to the door, expecting Sam to follow him to the car. Sam, who had been kneeling the whole time, got up and just stood there. He shot a glance at the gun the shape shifter must have had put on the coffee table before trying to wake him up and took it without even realising it. Again, he stood still, facing the door, his arm at his sides, the gun in his right hand. The bastard thought he was so smooth, he thought he could pass himself off as his brother. It would be so easy to just get out and shoot him.

Suddenly, he reappeared in the doorframe, looking well and truly pissed off.

"Okay, my bad, I didn't know we were throwing a welcome party to the police. Be sure to leave your fingerprints everywhere and don't forget to handcuff yourself before they get here."

For a moment Sam was taken aback, the illusion was perfect: same body, same face, same expression, same twisted sense of humour, same memories also. This was Dean, maybe not technically, but it was close. Close enough for Sam; so close he could pretend it was, in fact, his brother; so close he could even bring himself to believe it.

"Sammy, what the hell is wrong with you, get over here!".

Sam dropped the gun; he dropped it and walked to the door. He paused before crossing the threshold. He had two options: 1) Turn around, see the corpse, and face the death of his brother.

2) Keep walking, get to the car, and continue his life as if nothing had happened.

He had two options, living alone or living a lie.

Sorry brother, I'm not strong enough.

He kept on walking without looking back.

TBC