One Father, One Son
Author's Note: Thanks for the kind words! This is the end of my first fan fiction so bear with me through all the sadness of this chapter. Sammy is a bit different but bear with me...
The Demon was possessing his baby brother, but now Sammy wasn't such a baby. Dean was dazed. Them he snapped back into it when the yellow eyes came back. Dean was now angrier than ever. That demon had his baby brother. He raised the gun again, but couldn't bring himself to shoot it. After all, it was his brother.
"Dean! Drop!" It was John. Instinct kicking in Dean dropped and then sprang up again when he realized what John meant to do.
"Dad! Don't!" Dean shouted. John hesitated and then positioned himself to re-aim. "Dad! The Demon has Sammy! That's Sammy's body!" Dean had just caught a glimpse of his long lost brother and he didn't want to lose him again. Dean lunged for John's decoy Colt. Dean thought to himself, Why did I have to put that bullet I there? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought, because you love your dad even though you would never tell him.
John, surprised that his son was giving the orders, hesitated yet again. His body snapped into action once Dean lunged. John dived out of the way. The Demon was laughing at them the whole time.
"Dean, that's not your brother! That's just what the Demon wanted you to think!" John said, trying to convince his grief stricken son. Dean begged for him not to shoot.
"Dad, I made Sammy a promise that I would always take care of him on the day he was born. I promised that I would never let anything happen to him! Please, Dad!"
John was torn. While he could see the resemblance in the Demon and what Sammy would have looked liked, John knew that demons could play tricks with your mind. Dean threw the real Colt down in frustration. The Demon laughed mockingly at his handiwork of turning father against son. John clenched his jaw and shot the Demon. Black smoke spewed out of the mouth of the possessed person and flew out a window.
Dean cried out and ran over to the body. Wait, Dean thought. A body? Of a dead demon? He glanced over at John. John sat against the wall crying. Dean hurried back to the body. He examined the body and saw that John had shot it in the leg. He shook the Sammy.
"Come on, Sammy! Come on! I'm not losing you again!" Dean told the still body. John crawled over.
"Dean, are you sure that this—"
"Yes, Dad! I know my own little brother!" Dean shouted in frustration. He started shaking the body harder and harder.
"Dean! Stop it! Think about this! The Demon had this person—"
"Sammy! It's Sammy!" Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw.
"Okay, Sammy. The Demon has had Sammy for twenty-two years! Now I know he probably didn't use Sammy as a child, then again this is one sick demon, but this demon was big. Imagine what Sammy's been through!" John said as he tried to reason with his son. John put a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean shrugged him off and shook with silent tears. Suddenly he heard a quiet voice.
"Dean…"
"Sammy?" Dean looked down and Sammy's eyes were half way open.
"Dad! We need to get Sammy to a hospital!" Dean shouted and he tried to lift Sammy. He knew it was too late but brotherly love blinded him to that fact.
"Dean, it's…it's too late for me…" Sammy whispered. He was so tired. He had been stuck in that body for three years. Other hunters had come and gone, all failing and the Demon in Sammy's body killing them while Sammy could only watch.
"No, Sammy. It's not too late. We can get you help," Dean said holding back sobs. "Dad! Help me lift him!"
John, holding back tears of his own, humored his eldest son. He gingerly lifted his youngest, the son he thought he had lost at six months, up and started walking with Dean towards the exit. Sammy then started coughing up blood. Dean and John gently laid him down.
"Come on, Sammy! You can't leave me! I…I need to know my baby brother! Sammy, no! I love you, Sammy!" Dean wailed, whispering the last sentance.
"Dean, it's…it's Sam," Sammy said with a weak half grin. The Demon had called him Sammy, mocking how Dean had. He hated his name now. All those long twenty years Sam had hung onto snippets of memories, his brother's voice, the feel of his dad's rough beard against his smooth baby hand, his mother's soft loving eyes. Sam let go of the memories and let his hand go limp in Dean's. Sam's eyes fluttered closed and would never open again. Dean broke down with silent sobs and held his brother tight. John stepped back to let Dean have a minute. John was crying silently. Now it really was just him and Dean. John always had this feeling that they weren't alone. But now that feeling was gone for good.
Dean would never be the same. He hunted nothing but the Demon that had killed his brother. Three years later Dean shot the Demon with the Colt. That very same day, Dean stopped hunting. He never dated again, much less get married. He was never sure why, but somewhere in the back of his brain he was too scared to love someone again. Dean never saw his father again after he stopped hunting. He fell into depression. Only one thing gave him happiness, but it was bittersweet. People say that brothers have a strong connection. Sam and Dean had that, so when Sammy, said, "It's Sam," he really meant, "I love you too, Dean."
Author's Note: So? Too much angst? What do you think? Help me out for future ones!!