Clinging to a Cursed Life
Based on "Untitled" by Simple Plan
"I open my eyes. I try to see, but I'm blinded by the white light..."
Sam Winchester lay on the cot in his hospital cell, his mind exhausted and a bit hazy from the lack of sleep. He could not remember the last time he had fallen asleep. The days seemed to blend together now, and yet, he felt as though each day would never end.
"Sammy!"
Sam jolted on the bed, sparing a weary glance at his Lucifer hallucination sitting on a chair next to the bed. Lucifer was cupping his hand around his mouth, leaning towards the bed.
"Up an' atem, Sammy!" Lucifer yelled.
Sam rolled his eyes and looked back up at the ceiling as Lucifer let out raucous laughter.
"I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight..."
Sam stared at the ceiling, willing Lucifer to go away and just give him five minutes of resting his eyes. They felt like they were gonna fall out of his head at any moment.
"Come on, Sam," Lucifer said next to the bed. "You know I'm not going to let you sleep, so why bother?"
Sam closed his eyes in annoyance, just wanting the tired burning in them to quit.
Sometimes, his tired mind could not remember why he was there or even where he was. But sooner or later, Lucifer made it pretty clear for him.
"I mean, use this free time for that science fiction book you've been trying to get through," Lucifer told him as he reclined back on the chair he was sitting in. "Don't just lie there like a drugged monkey."
"And I can't stand the pain, and I can't make it go away. No, I can't stand the pain..."
Sam rolled over onto his side on the cot, facing away from Lucifer.
"Oh, don't be like that," whined Lucifer. "I promise I'll be good."
Sam laid his hand over his head to cover his ear, but it didn't seem to do a bit of good.
Of course it doesn't, Sam thought bitterly. He's in your head. He's gonna make sure you can hear him no matter what.
"Sammy?"
Sam closed his eyes again, praying that he would just shut up for five seconds. He never thought he would say it, but he missed the days when Lucifer would just tag along on the sidelines, letting Sam carry on a conversation or—hell—even eat a meal. It couldn't be that entertaining to mess with him this much.
"Of course it is," said Lucifer, his voice piercing straight through Sam's hand. "What else am I gonna do? Sit here and watch your True Hollywood sob story? Boring, Sam. Never really enjoyed Entertainment Tonight."
Sam lowered his hand, sighing in defeat.
"Of course, if you wanted to make things a little more exciting, I have the answer," Lucifer went on in a lower voice. "You can make the pain stop, Sam. And you'd finally be able to sleep...forever." He chuckled a little.
Sam turned his head to glare at Lucifer. This wasn't the first time Lucifer had tried to get Sam to kill himself. This time, though, Sam was starting to wonder why he was even hanging onto a life so horrible.
"How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes. Got nowhere to run..."
"Come on, Sammy," said Lucifer. "You're gonna crash anyway."
Sam knew he was right. It was only a matter of time before the lack of sleep finally wore his body down and killed him.
"Why not save yourself the pain?" Lucifer suggested. "You wanna end it all? You know what to do."
Sam knew his odds weren't very good, but they knew what to expect when Dean had gotten Sam's soul back. They may have put all their hope on the wall Death had put up to protect him from the hell memories, but deep down, they both knew it was only a matter of time before it came crashing down. Sam was just grateful Dean had gotten him out and given him this much time.
"Oh, you're making me sick with all that dewy-eyed, emotional crap," said Lucifer, standing from the chair and pacing towards the doorway. "Very well...We'll wait for you to die."
Sam turned his head back towards the wall, staring at it in hopelessness. He was just so sick of this life and everything that came with it. Sure, he didn't want to die, but if that was how it was going to be...at least he would finally be at peace.
"The night goes on as I'm fading away. I'm sick of this life. I just wanna scream. How could this happen to me?"
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"Everybody's screaming. I try to make a sound, but no one hears me..."
Dean Winchester walked into the junkyard behind Bobby Singer's house, carrying a bottle of whiskey. He had just stepped out of the basement to get some air, unable to take Sam's screams anymore. It only reminded him of how he hadn't watched out for his brother, how he'd let this horrible life take hold of him. And that wasn't the only thing he'd let happen. He had let Sam die in Cold Oak, he had let Lillith take him to hell, he had let himself get broken and break the first seal, he had let his brother fall into Ruby's clutches…
Dean wandered through the lot, feeling the weight of the world hovering just above his shoulders, ready for him to make one last mistake before crushing him underfoot.
"I'm slipping off the edge. I'm hanging by a thread. I wanna start this over again…"
Dean knew the apocalypse was completely his fault. Yes, Sam broke the final seal, but wasn't it Dean that pushed him towards that convent? Dean had forced Sam to come back to this life which had led to the end of the world, and all for what? Companionship? Loneliness?
Let's face it, Dean thought. If you hadn't shown up at Sam's apartment five years ago, none of this would be happening.
Sure, Dean could try to fix what he had broken, but everything he came up with failed. He was getting down to the last of his options, and yet, the devil still roamed the earth. The overwhelming despair of what he would do when his last resort failed him threatened to suffocate him.
He just did not know how he could keep going.
"So, I try to hold onto a time when nothing mattered. And I can't explain what happened, and I can't erase the things that I've done. No, I can't…"
Dean took a drink of whiskey, lowering the bottle to his side again. It was really just a habit…going through the motions. He doubted all the whiskey in the world would make the pain go away. Dean really did not know what to do next.
It all used to be so simple: find the bad thing, kill it, drive off into the sunset. Now, things were so jacked up; just how were you supposed to kill the devil? And it wasn't just hunting that used to be all-smiles.
Dean had seen Sam change in so many ways over the years. His little brother used to be such an innocent person, even as a hunter. One little smile from Sam could just light up the Impala, make everything seem not so wretched. Now, all Dean saw from Sam was guilt, sorrow and pain.
Dean longed for a time long since passed when everything made sense and things weren't so jumbled and torn, but he knew that it would never be like that again.
"How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes. Got nowhere to run. The night goes on as I'm fading away…"
Dean looked up towards the sky, moisture forming in his eyes.
"Please…" Dean begged from whoever was listening, "I can't…"
Dean just couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't do it. This hunt was just too big.
"I need some help," Dean pleaded. "Please."
As nothing and no one seemed to hear him, Dean closed his eyes in misery, wishing the end would just come, one way or another.
"I'm sick of this life. I just wanna scream. How could this happen to me?"
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Dean and Sam stood over the fire pit they had just tossed Bobby's flask on, watching as his spirit glowed brightly. As the flask melted down and Bobby disappeared, Sam and Dean stood in despondent silence.
Each of them was reminiscing about some of the lowest points in their life and how they had been pulled back from the edge by their brother. Dean had thought all was lost when the apocalypse came before Sam managed to pull him back by believing in him. Sam had readied himself for the worst when Lucifer broke all hell loose in his mind, only making it through by Dean not giving up on a way to bring him back.
"I made my mistakes. Got nowhere to run. The night goes on as I'm fading away. I'm sick of this life. I just wanna scream. How could this happen to me?"
Each time it felt like all was lost for Sam or Dean, their brother managed to jump in and save the day, each and every time.
Sam and Dean glanced at each other for a moment, both knowing that even this time—when it feels like the end—they would be there to pull each other back.