Written while watching Swan Song, half-crocked. Hope it's coherent...review and let me know, hint hint?
Bobby asked if I'm afraid of losing, or afraid of losing Sam.
The answer was both.
Sam was my family. My only family.
We roamed, we fought, we suffered.
We were together.
We were happy, in our own way.
In our own fucked up way.
But as Bobby asked me that question…
A tiny, shameful part of me wondered if he's even Sam anymore.
Yes, he was Sam, my brother, my blood, he always will be.
But as he grew into a man…
It just feels like part of who Sam was got lost.
He stopped being the kid brother.
He became the cold-eyed warrior, and it scared me.
I was always that son, the one who did whatever it took, damn the cost.
When did he change?
He changed long before he started playing Nosferatu with Ruby.
He started as the gangly kid, tripping on his own oversized feet.
He turned into the solid, massive man, killing demons with the flick of his wrist.
When did he change?
Near the last, he told me to go do what I've dreamed of for so long.
He told me to live a normal life.
But that would come at the sacrifice of the one thing I've spent my whole life protecting.
How could I do that?
Watching him say his goodbyes, I saw a tiny glimpse of the old Sam, the real Sam.
The scared Sam.
The vulnerable Sam.
The Sam who wanted more than anything to do the right thing.
My brother Sam.
And then he was gone.
His body was there…but coursing with the blood of hell itself, it wasn't Sam anymore.
Angry.
Aggressive.
Reckless.
He vibrated with a barely controlled power.
A blink, a wince, and demons fell like dominoes.
And I tried.
I tried to send him.
I tried to send him to hell.
Nearly shoved him into the pit, but He was too strong.
And then the Devil wore my brother's body.
Everyone gave up.
They gave up on Sam.
Gave up on Redemption.
But I couldn't do it.
They tried to stop me, tried to tell me it was useless.
I couldn't let him die alone.
I would go with him, just like always.
Because I couldn't be the last Winchester.
I couldn't.
I'd go out in a goddamn blaze of glory.
And Sam and I would burn bright together.
But then he killed my friends with a click of his fingers.
Killed my family.
Did his damndest to kill me.
Was he there?
Could he hear me?
Did he even care anymore?
Did he ever really love me at all?
Or did he hate me?
Did he hate the big brother, the mouthpiece and puppet of the father?
Did he hate me?
And then there he was.
My brother.
My friend.
There he was.
And then.
There he wasn't.
Peace?
Or freedom?
Or finally…
Finally…
Life.
