"I told you Sammy," Dean said, his tone almost sad, as he advanced on his brother, "You should have just let me go."
"Dean," the younger man spoke his sibling's name, his voice shaky, "Please."
"It's too late for that," the older brother shook his head, "You should have left me alone but you didn't. Now, I have to make sure you won't go following me again."
Sam cried out as he was slammed against the wall of the bunker's main room, an invisible force holding him pinned to the cold stone.
"Dean! Please! You d-don't have to do this!" Sam ground out, his injured shoulder screaming in pain.
The older Winchester rolled his eyes, "You're right. I don't. But I want to."
He began walking forward, walking towards his trapped sibling, weaving his way through the pinewood tables.
Sam struggled furiously, trying to break through the force gripping him tightly, trying to get away.
Dean stopped when he was standing right in front of Sam, standing almost toe-to-toe with him.
"Dean," Sam tried again, tears welling up in his eyes, "Please… Don't…"
The older brother said nothing for a moment, he simply looked into Sam's face, "You know what, Sammy? I never really liked those stupid puppy-dog eyes of yours."
Sam's heart clenched in terror as Dean pulled a knife with a long, thin blade from behind his back and held it up.
"No… Please…" Sam whimpered, unable to stop himself.
Dean just smiled and raised the blade, drawing it closer and closer to Sam's green eyes…
… Sam startled awake with a gasp, sitting up in bed, drenched in cold sweat. Leaning forward, he clenched his eyes closed and tried to calm down.
It was only a nightmare. Dean was safely locked away in the bunker's dungeon.
Sam raised his head and raked his left hand through his hair, letting out a long, slow breath. He glanced at the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand beside his bed and saw that it was almost three in the morning.
Deciding that he didn't want to try and go back to sleep and tempting fate, Sam stood and headed down the hallway to the bunker's kitchen.
Turning on the light, Sam stared despondently around the room.
"What am I doing?" the young man muttered to himself.
Sam wiped his hand over his face and sighed. He was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to go back to his room, fall into bed, pull the covers over his head and sleep for a year.
Dean didn't want to be with him, he didn't want to be saved, to be fixed and now Sam was starting to doubt if he could help his brother at all. Sure, he knew how to turn a demonic soul back to a human one but would it even work for Dean. Maybe Dean was a different kind of demon because of the Mark. Maybe it would be a huge waste of time. Maybe the only way to save Dean was to stab Ruby's knife through his chest.
"I have to try," Sam told himself, gritting his teeth together, "I won't give up on him."
Dean had never given up on Sam, ever since they were little and the younger Winchester felt he'd be doing his brother a great disservice if he were to do so now.
Making his way into the kitchen proper, Sam grabbed the kettle from where it sat on the stovetop and filled it with water from the sink's tap. Turning on the gas, Sam sat the kettle on a burner and grabbed the coffee pot and ground coffee from the cupboard.
While he waited for the water to boil so he could make his coffee, Sam's mind turned back to Dean's final words to him. They hadn't spoken since to one another since discussing Dean's lack of mercy and the older brother's words had chilled Sam's blood:
"…And what I'm gonna do to you, Sammy, well, that ain't gonna be mercy either."
Sam knew that he had two choices now. Fix Dean, make him human again… or kill him because his brother certainly wasn't going to leave quietly again, as he had before, leaving only a four-word note. No, if Dean managed to get loose, Sam knew his brother wouldn't let him be without some sort of payback.
The sharp whistle of the kettle startled the younger Winchester and he quickly turned off the burner, grabbing the kettle's handle and pouring the hot water over the grounds sitting in the filter in the coffee pot.
Sam had rarely felt so alone. He felt as though he was grasping at straws and that he was going to end up with the short one.
Once the coffee was ready, Sam poured himself a mug and left the kitchen. Not wanting to go back to his room, Sam wandered through the bunker's hallways, not paying much attention until he found himself standing in front of the door to the dungeon, where Dean was being held.
You don't need to go in, Sam told himself, it's not like Dean wants to see you anyway.
But despite what he was thinking, Sam found himself switching his coffee mug to his right hand, the cup warm against his chest as he pressed the arm in the sling tight to his body. With his uninjured left hand, Sam grabbed the keys from his pocket, unlocked the door and shoved it open.
Dean looked up at the sound of the door being pulled open and turned his eyes to Sam. He said nothing but watched his younger sibling step into the room and cautiously approach him. Dean was chained to a chair, at the wrists and ankles, sitting atop a Devil's Trap. Sam hadn't wanted to do this to his brother but he knew that if he didn't, Dean could escape and if he did, he'd leave a path of blood and destruction in his wake.
"Why are you here?" Dean asked lazily.
Sam was more than a little disturbed by his brother's casual attitude and he frowned deeply but said nothing.
"You're not going to fix me," Dean told him, "You're not going to save me."
Sam swallowed, "I know you don't think that now, Dean, but I will. This isn't you."
The older brother rolled his shoulders, "Oh, come off it, Sammy! This is me now! Get used to it."
The younger Winchester shook his head in denial.
"I don't want to be fixed," Dean told him, "I don't need to be saved."
"Dean," Sam said, his tone imploring.
"And the longer you keep me in here, chained up like some animal," his brother said seriously, angrily, "The worse it's gonna be for you when I get out of here."
Again, Dean's threat slithered their way into Sam's mind and the younger man shivered. As though he knew exactly what his sibling was thinking about, Dean smirked and his hazel eyes turned pitch black.
"See ya, Sammy," Dean called as his brother began backing out of the room, shaken.
The younger man slammed the door shut and then leaned against it heavily. Sam closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest, the heat of the coffee seeping through the ceramic mug and burning his fingers.
"God damn it!" Sam snapped, feeling completely lost and alone.
Pushing himself away from the door, Sam trudged back down the hallway, his heart feeling like a lead weight in his chest.
"I'm going to save you, Dean," Sam muttered, "Whatever the cost, I'm going to fix you."
Author's Note:
The fanfic's title comes from a Queensryche song of the same name.
I finally caught up with the first two episodes of season ten and man, they were intense! Cannot wait to find out what happens next, if Sam can really change Dean back to human or not.
Please take a moment to leave a comment and maybe your thoughts on what might happen next for Sam and Dean.
