A/N This wouldn't leave me alone. I just had to put it on 'paper' because I'm so worried about Friday-that the truth about Sam will be horrible and depressing and that there will be nothing anybody can do about it. So I wrote this and um, if anyone out there would like to pick up where I left off here, please feel free to do so-just let me know so I can look forward to reading it! ^-^
Ugly Truth
Dean slammed his back into the brick wall. Half drunk and half broken-hearted, the brick wall failed either to support him or override his agony.
The truth is, Sammy's gone. They ripped him to fragments and scattered him to the winds of hell. Did you really think something that weak and vulnerable could survive the living, eternal nightmares in hell?
No matter how much Dean denied the truth, there it stared at him, a chesshire cat, toying with his memories and emotions. His baby brother was gone. Gone. That... dried husk of a man who claimed Sam's name was not Sammy. Never, ever could be.
Dean searched the night sky as the night club's music blared through the wall. His eyes watered with grief. How could he either trust or befriend something so cold and inhuman? How?
He couldn't.
First Sammy's first death, then his tour through hell, the apocalypse, then Sammy's second death and now... Sammy's third death. All this-his crappy, train wreck of a life, gave him no reason to continue. How could he possibly pick up the pieces when even the pieces were shattered?
Dean had no idea what to do. He sat there as the world moved along, heedless, insensitive. The party ended a few hours later. The music died. The night ended. Dean thought his life should too.
