Murky Waters
By: Knights
Disclaimer: The Supernatural characters belong to Warner Brothers. I am just borrowing them for a short while. No copyright infringement is intended.
When he first awoke in the basement of the asylum, he was confused. His jaw ached as if he'd been hit and Dean wouldn't make eye contact. As Dean asked if he was going to try and kill him, the memories had come flooding back. He could recall the hate that he felt towards his brother, the uncontrollable rage. The terrible things he'd said.
Other memories came filtering through as well. First, shooting Dean with the rock salt, then hovering over his brother with a gun pointed at him. The pain in Dean's voice as he asked if Sam hated him that much still echoed in his ears. Sam had tried to fight the anger boiling inside of him. He didn't really want to kill his brother, but when Dean ordered him to do it, the anger surged and he lost the little control that he had and pulled the trigger. He didn't realize it at the time, but thinking back now, he could pinpoint that was when the light had totally extinguished in his brother's sea green eyes.
He had tried to apologize to Dean. Surely Dean realized that he was under the influence of the good doctor. That he didn't really mean the awful things he had said. But Dean had brushed him off. Now, when Dean looked at him, he wouldn't meet Sam's eyes. His voice, when he did speak, was devoid of emotion.
Sam had tried to push the subject. He wanted his brother to understand that he didn't mean any of it. Dean just seemed to withdraw further from him. Stating that he just wanted to get some sleep – not being in a 'sharing, caring kind of mood.'
Now, Sam lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling; his brother in the bed over sleeping soundly. Every time Sam closed his eyes though all he could see was his brother's looking back at him with the light fading away. The green changing from a shade of sea green to something more murky, more haunted.