BURN AWAY TO ASHES
Summary: Sam's faith in humanity dies when a sniper robed in darkness and cowardice shoots his brother.(My take on Sam accepting his power, and the consequences thereof).
Warnings: Dark, violence.
A/N: So, I got addicted to Supernatural fanfiction. What can I say; Dean and Sam are just so hot! That being said, this is not officially slash. I tried not to indicate either way (so feel free to decide however you want!).
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The plan is perfect, he knows, they have labored long to insure that. Have honed and tempered and beaten it into pure crystalline beauty. Have used the harsh flay of time to weather any flaws away, until only blood-slick perfection remains.
There are those who argue that their methods are wrong, especially considering the outcome they desire. Dissenters, though, are always quickly (permanently) silenced.
They have watched and observed, fought and tested and assessed, until, finally, they are now prepared to set the plan into motion.
It is an honor, what he is about to do, the feat he has been chosen to accomplish.
He chambers a round into the rifle, hears metal clink as the bullet moves into place.
Centers the scope on the two heads bobbing steadily away from him in the dark. Focuses even more on the slightly shorter figure, the one lagging two paces behind the other.
There is no time for indecision.
He uses stolen flesh to pull the trigger. The recoil shudders up his temporary body, as his target crumples gracelessly to the ground.
Seconds later, the world explodes, and the demon flees for Hell with news of his success.
Dean Winchester is dead. The rest of the world will soon follow.
--
Sam does not see the bullet hit Dean. Does not see the spray of blood erupt from the side of his brother's head, does not see Dean collapse onto the pavement (dead).
Sam hears, though, hears the wet crack as the bullet enters Dean's skull, feels his brother's still-warm blood splatter crimson across his face.
Nonononononono…
He cannot comprehend the sight in front of him, chants his disbelief outloud, stumbling and tripping over his own voice until a single word (Nononononono) transforms into a prayer and a curse (neither answered).
Sam's faith in God dies with Dean.
Shockhorrorangerfury race like ghosts through his mind, until Sam's emotions die, just shut down, just stop, and the shockhorrorangerfuryis replaced by cool (frightening) detachment.
He does not want this, Sam thinks, even as he concentrates to summon up a side of himself he keeps carefully caged, even as oily-slick tentacles caress his mind, whispering dark secrets.
(Dean would not want this).
Sam shatters the chains that restrain his powers, and wreaths the world in flames. Makes the pavement buckle and boil until only the ugly stink of hot tar remains. Listens (not caring) to the screams as cherry-red flames leap higher and higher, until even the sky is painted a bloody slit-wrist crimson.
Sam's faith in humanity dies when a sniper robed in darkness and cowardice shoots his brother.
(Sam does not care). Does not care about the shrieks of the dying, or the charred stink of burnt flesh that mingles with the cloying black smoke that is suddenly everywhere. Everywhere except around Dean. Sam will never allow any harm to come to his brother, even in death.
Especially when Dean will need his body later, when Sam gets back his soul.
Sam will tear the world apart to get Dean back. Dean, his brotherfathermotherfriendprotector. Dean, his everything.
(Dean would not want this) Sam thinks, as he raises bile-yellow eyes from the sight of his brother's corpse, lying dead and desecrated in a pool of blood on the ground.
But then, Sam thinks, as the ground shudders open in front of him, and the wails of the damned cut like knife thrusts through the stink of destruction, and black-smoke demons scythe away from Hell, Sam does not care.
Sam will force Hell to give Dean back, because if Sam has to live in a world without Dean, then he doesn't think the world deserves to live.
Sam's faith in his powers becomes the world's damnation when on the ground behind him, Dean sits up, swearing and gasping for air.
Some bridges burn away to ashes once they have been crossed. Sam finds he doesn't particularly care, as long as Dean is alive.
--
In a far corner of Hell, hidden in corridors made of blood-soaked flesh and the bones of the damned, they hear the final barrier fail with a screech of twisted metal.
Black eyes glowing, they toast their triumph, voices whisper-quiet from unholy exaltation. It is a terrible thing, what they have achieved. They could not be more satisfied.
The Boy King, Hell's Chosen One, has been christened with blood and with fire, and his reign shall last forevermore.
Their plan was never about the death of Dean, but the rebirth of Sam.
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A/N: So, what did you think? My first Supernatural fanfic ever!!