"Claim"
"And if I claim to be a wise man,
Than it surely means that I don't know."
"Carry on Wayward Son" by Kansas
He looks so small. Like a scared little boy. He turns in his sleep, muttering. You place a hand on his shoulder, smooth back his sweaty bangs.
"Shh, Sammy. You're alright. It's alright," you whisper, wishing it was true. Wishing none of this had happened. Wishing Sam had just given you the damn gun…
"M-Madison. I'm sorry," Sam whimpers.
You look away. You can't see him like this, but you can't leave him, either. You don't have a choice.
"I tried, Madison… I tried. I'm sorry."
"Sh, Sammy. It's ok. She knows."
Sam grabs your hand, squeezing tight.
You're about to pull away, but then stop. Instead, you squeeze back.
"Dean…"
"I'm here," you tell your little brother firmly. "It's ok. I'm here."
Finally, it seems, Sam's dreams let him go, and he slowly falls into a true sleep.
8
You wake up when you feel something moving beside you. It's Sam, and he's awake. You sit up, but there's still something holding you down. You look, and you see that Sam is still holding your hand tightly. He sees it too, and quickly lets go, looking embarrassed. You don't say anything, instead rubbing your sweaty hand against your jeans.
"You, uh, okay?" you ask in your usual brusque manner.
Sam runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Yeah. Or I will be. Thanks."
You look back at him. "For what?"
Sam meets your eyes head on, almost making you look down. "For being there."
8
Sam can't remember anything after the gunshot. He remembers holding the gun. He remembers looking over at you as he pulls the trigger. He remembers Madison's quiet cry as she fell. But then, all he sees is darkness until the next morning. And you think this is probably for the best, because you remember everything.
You remember how as soon as the shot was fired, Sam sank to his knees, head down. You remember how Madison was slumped against the couch as she took her last breath, a single tear rolling down her cheek. How you lay her down in her bed, and how she looked like she was just sleeping. How you knew she wasn't.
You remember that Sam couldn't talk. He didn't say a single word as you carefully led him from the building and into the Impala. As you drove to the motel, he just sat there, staring out the window. When you asked him if he was hungry, he didn't even turn his head.
You remember how, as soon as you were in the motel room, Sam climbed into the bed. How he fell asleep with tears rolling down his face. How he spent the entire night apologizing. And how he fell asleep in your arms.
You remember, and you're glad that Sam forgot. You're sure you never will. Sure you'll have nightmares about that night for years to come. And you're sure that, next time, you'll take the gun.