"It's okay Sam," the voice arose from behind him (and voice doesnt even begin to cover it no it cant be a voice voice is too close is too human and he cannot be human oh god please)
The…noise, continued, a litany of promises Sam knew were meant to be broken in a trembling crescendo (and every note of it was a crescendo Sam felt high he felt like the entire world was crashing around itself with every word because what else would those last words you would ever hear sound like)
He would not cry. A…thing was breathing in his ear and it sounded more terrified than him, and Sam would not cry. He was pretty sure there was a knife somewhere, he had seen the glint in the bare candle light, and he could feel it now dancing over his skin. Some part of him wanted to take comfort in the thing's obvious fear, some survival instinct wanted to share it with him and coerce him and pretend like nothing had ever happened. Like this thing (boy its a boy human child boy) who had been his brother's friend hadn't just murdered its own father, its own brother, feet from Sam.
God help him, the way he looked at Sam was like Sam was the loose link after everything was over. But not a link he wanted to cut. He looked at Sam with the same reverence that Dean had (does still does not over he will see dean again) and he had never given Sam the time of day before. And now he murmurs to Sam that he's not going to kill him, no, Sam's gonna be fine, they're both going to be fine, in a voice Sam used to fall asleep listening to next door. A voice that Sam doesn't believe for a second, no sir, his father's raised him better than that.
There's a glint of madness in the boy's eyes and it suddenly clicks to Sam that it isn't supposed to click. The only logic that killed that boy (luke his name was luke and god he was younger than sam was) that killed his father's friend was one that would be forever lost on Sam. There was a key to it all, and the boy had lost it before he'd even been born. So what the hell did that leave Sam with?
It left him with rough, trembling hands pushing and prodding Sam down into the couch. He had always hated that couch, with its itchy red velvet. But now he felt blessed that it was facing the door, not the hallway where they were. Sam wanted to promise himself that he wouldn't end up in that hallway. He wanted to believe that he would make it out of this alive. Whole. But all of Sam's hope was splattered along the wall behind him, dripping to the floor. Sam's promises lay in a missing brother, endless miles away. Sam's faith was as good as dead. And, as he looked into those crazed eyes, he realized that he was too.