Sam sat at the small table in the hotel room looking out the window. He had tried to contact Dean several times now and he wasn't answering. Castiel had left him sitting there pondering the fact that he had no soul after a long talk they had. On the outside, Sam knew he was composed, but on the inside, he was blank. Emotionally bankrupt. He'd listen to Cas tell him that he was going to Dean and they would come up with a plan to get his soul back from Michael. But still Sam had felt nothing. When Cas had left, he'd gotten the shotgun out of his duffle bag and loaded it.
I can't do it. I don't want it back. All those feelings would come rushing back at me and then Dean would see me crack. I don't want to be a vegetable that he'd have to take care of for the rest of my life. I don't want to crave blood like damn vamp, bloody freaking living vampire. And most of all I just can't face hell all over again. Not here with Dean. He looked at the shotgun once again in his lap and cocked it. Cas please make sure that you make Dean understand for me. Please. I just can't face it. I never should have come back, wasn't meant to come back. Just fucking wasn't meant to come back from that place! He'd kept himself moving forward everyday thinking over and over that he'd be fine. He'd checked on Dean and Lisa regularly. Even followed them to some of Ben's school activities. He'd double-checked each town Dean had dragged them to making sure it was clean and no demon's or monsters lingered there. Once he'd clean the town he'd set up shop outside their house watch over them. He'd done that for months before he'd come across Christian and Mark hunting down a vamp nest and took off to discover the Campbell's.
That's when it happened, when Monster Sam took over. Anything for the hunt. Anything for the kill. He'd become the killer that every demon and angel had wanted him to become prior to letting Lucifer out of his cage. He didn't need demon blood anymore, he had no soul, and it made everything so much more easier. He knew he was over the line when he used the shifter baby as bait without even knowing it wasn't human yet. Nevertheless, he went off the deep end when he stood there and let his brother be turned in to a vampire. He knew it was wrong, he knew he was dangerously close to the edge of no return. But he did it anyway because he was Monster Sam now. And he was a killer. Just like Dean had been. Before he broke him.
Sam sighed and looked at his phone once, then back to the shotgun. All his mistakes through his entire life stemmed from being surrounded by evil on a daily basis. His salvation had been Dean. He'd screwed that up so many times he'd lost count. But Dean had always picked up the pieces and made it all work out. But finally that all had to end. Sam had to grow up and Dean had finally let him. That meant that Sam had to pay the price for the mistakes he'd made. Dean and Cas had tried to tell him it wasn't all his fault, though he could see it in their faces that they were trying to make him feel better. But the blame was still there in the faces of every stranger he met, his friends (not that he had many left), and even his family. Oh Cas never once wanted to admit he'd let him out of the panic room the day he broke the final seal when he killed Lilith. Moreover, no one ever mentioned Dean's part where he broke the first seal by torturing Dad in hell and breaking him on the rack. But it was all there, and not one of them could change it. But Sam, he could have changed what he did. He'd had a choice. He could have said no to Ruby countless times. But he didn't. And god he hated himself for that. This fed the anger, the rage, and the dark part of his soul that had been tainted at birth.
And oh God, when he'd said yes, and Lucifer took possession of his body, that dark part of himself rejoiced that he was finally free! FREE, damit, to stop having to face their looks of pity and disappointment and all those expectations of him. Free to finally just sit back and let it all go. But even that didn't feel right and he fought on. Carrying on, his wayward soul fought as best it could against Lucifer and his evil pouring in to every pore and crack that was Sam's broken psyche. And in one final leap, one stretch of his battered body, he freed not only himself and his brother but the entire world of a darkness that no one could comprehend. A nightmare so vile and terrifying that even now Sam has blocked in his head. Mostly.
Bits and pieces come out on rare occasions, he keeps himself perfectly still, and blank so that he doesn't give away what's going on in his head. He can still hear the screams, and it still sends shivers down his back. He still trembles, breaks out in cold sweats, and sometimes can't stand to look at his hands. Mirrors are instruments of torture as well. The things he was made to see, hear, and feel. He remembers finally giving up, and curling inwards, knowing there was no one coming to his rescue. And then, those eyes, beautiful eye's of ethereal cobalt blue. No color he'd ever seen on anyone human. They held there in their depths something he didn't think he'd find anymore. Love. Forgiveness. Redemption. Hope. But he could never remember more than just those eye's. Never could see the face or hold on to any memory that was spiked when he remembered those eyes.
And so he sits there at the table, staring out the window, of the motel room they'd left him in, alone, holding a shotgun in his lap, and his cell phone in his hand. One sign that they want me here. One call, one simple action to make me believe that there is a reason for me to be here now and to fight on. That's all I need. Just one damn fucking hope that I'm not the monster, please God don't let ME be the monster.
"Sam ..." he jerked, hearing the voice in his head.
"I'm hearing voices in my head. Great". Sam thought to himself. A soft chuckle echoed in his ears, in his mind.
"Not to yourself, to me Sam." Sam smiled softly to himself. The eyes.
"Yes, you remember my eyes. One day soon you'll be strong enough to remember more but for now you can remember my eyes."
"Who are you?" he asked, almost dreamily. He thinks he's dropped the shotgun but he can't think right now, he just wants to hear that voice and remember those eyes.
"It's not important Sam. What is important is that Dean is almost there, he's coming for you Sam. You'll be ok. They have enough information to help you find me. And you must find me before you find Michael."
"Why?" he asked softly, head slowly slumping down to the table, his cell phone drops to the floor with a crack, but he doesn't care. His arms are limp at his sides, his finger tips almost touching the floor.
"Because Sam, the pieces of eight. You'll remember them soon. Now rest, Dean is on his way."
"Wait ... don't go. Don't leave me alone, please!" he whispers urgently, a slight wrinkle to his brow. Cool air blows his hair from his face and once again, he see's those in-human glowing blue eyes.
"You're never alone Sam. I'm always here. I told I would be. You just don't remember right now. But you will now. You won't say anything to your brother for a while about me, not till you think you can remember enough to make yourself believe you aren't having delusions." the voice chuckles softly and Sam's eye's close as he feels a cool soft hand running through his hair. He can smell plumeria and apples, the scent so sweet.
"Sleep now, Shay'anon, the pieces will soon fall into place."
And that's how Dean finds Sam, asleep at the table, arms hanging at his sides. The loaded shotgun on the floor and his cell phone by his boot. He assesses the scene and it hits him hard that while he was busy with Crowley and Cas at a bar getting drunk and lamenting his problems they had left Sam alone with loaded weapons. Weapons that he apparently had thought to use on himself this time. Panic hit Dean all at once and he raced over to check Sam.
"SAM!" he yelled. Startled Sam jerked awake.
"Wha' ... What is it Dean!" he jumped to his feet smashing his cell phone and looked around the room in fight mode stance.
"What we're you doing with the shotgun Sam?" Dean asked as he picked it up from the floor. Sam shrugs and rubs a hand over his face, then bends down and picks up the remains of his phone. He bends back up and sniffs, tossing the cell phone pieces in the trash he looks over towards Dean.
"Do you smell that?" he asks, frowning.
"Yeah, apples or some shit like that. Seriously, dude, were going to blow your head off with this thing?" Dean asks him, cocking his head. Sam glances over at him.
"I thought it might be best to keep my options open. I have no clues on how to find my soul and thought maybe it would be best if I simply took myself out of the equation. Problem eliminated." Dean grabbed the front of Sam's shirt and twisted. Sam instantly bowed up, a hard look on his face.
"You ever do something stupid like that; I'll have Cas send you back so I can kick your ass. Then I'll shoot you myself. Got it?" Sam nodded stiffly. Both brothers breathing hard staring each other down. Dean shook his head and was the first to look away. Letting go of Sam's shirt he grabs his duffle bag and starts jamming his things inside.
"Pack up; we're heading to Bobby's."
"Bobby's? Why?" Sam asked.
"Because that is where Cas said that he would meet up with us after he finds out more about Michaels location."
"You talked to Cas after he left me here?"
"Yep." Was all that Dean would say. Sam nodded.
"Did he say anything helpful?" Dean nodded.
"Told me everything he told you Sam." Sam doubted either one knew about the eye's but the voice had mentioned that he had to find her first and figure out the pieces of eight before he found Michael and his soul. Sam frowned.
"What does he think about the pieces of eight Dean?" Dean glanced at Sam and shook his head frowning.
"I don't know. Can you remember anything about it at all?" Sam stares at Dean.
"Don't lie to me Sam. Do you fucking remember anything at all?" Dean's eyes told Sam what he really wanted to ask him. Can he trust that Sam really wants help or did he lie to Cas.
"I'm afraid." Dean sits down on the bed and looks at Sam. Sam begins to pace, his brow wrinkled, hands shaking just so much. Beads of sweat break out on his forehead and Dean begins to soften just a bit.
"Of what Sam?" He asks, almost not wanting to know.
"Right now, I feel nothing. It's so hard to explain Dean. I ... I ... "Sam struggles to put into words what he doesn't feel but knows he will feel if he gets his soul back. " I know that when I get my soul back I'll feel it all over again. It will wash over me like water and I'm going to crack." He looks at Dean with wide eyes. Dean see's the deadness in them, the lack of emotion. "We're killers Dean. It's who we are. That can be dealt with, you and me, we deal with that right?" Dean nods. "But this, this is different. What if you could have come back with no emotions, never having to feel the pain and contempt for yourself or for what you did. How it felt when you did it. Would you want those emotions back, to pay for it all over again?"
"So you're saying you don't want to feel emotions ever again because of the cage." Sam nodded. Then turned to Dean, shaking his head, "No! Right now, they're turned off. When they come back it's gonna hit me like a Mac Truck. I'll break Dean. I'll be like a freaking vegetable. I hate that!" he yelled angrily. Dean got up and walked over to Sam. Staring him in the eyes he drew back and lightening fast punched Sam in the face. Sam went down hard, Dean just kept punching him, blood spurting from Sam's nose, covering Dean's hand, and Dean just kept hitting and hitting. Finally, Dean rose and looked down at Sam's body at his feet.
"You know what I hate Sammy, I hate that I had to go through the worst year of my life just to have to sit here and look at you telling me that you feel nothing for what we went through. Nothing for the people who went through it with you. I hate that I can't stand to look at your face and know that I wanted you back so bad but now that you are back, I want to kill you. I hate that I lost Lisa and Ben because of you. I hate that I hate you. I hate that I can't fix you. And most of all, damn you, I want my little brother back you son of a bitch!" Dean crawls backwards to the bed and leans against it. Sam lays there listening to Dean's tirade and slowly leans up on his elbows and pushes himself up against the wall.
"I'd say I'm sorry but I just don't feel it Dean. But I know that if I had my soul back I would be sorry. And that's all I can give you. I don't think I can go on for long like this. I know that I should be in that cage because it's where I belong. Maybe where I've always belonged I don't know. I just know that I thought I was back for a reason but now I think .. maybe whoever got me out was wrong. And ... I don't know .. " Dean lifted his head from his hands and looked at Sam, blood trickling from his nose and lips. Dean looked down at his hands, hands that had rocked Sam to sleep when he was sick, changed diapers, fed him when he was hungry, comforted him when there was no one else but them, and now beat his brother to a bloody pulp.
"Sam ... " Sam frowned again.
"Do you smell that Dean?" he asked looking around the room.
"Smell what? You ok Sammy, shit did I hit your head to hard?" he started to crawl to Sam but he held up a hand.
"Do you smell anything?" he asked again. Dean cocked an eyebrow at Sam sniffed the air. Then frowned.
"Its apples Sam, just like when I came in. Dude, seriously, I never thought I would actually hurt that concrete head of yours. Maybe we should take you somewhere ... "Sam shook his head.
"No. There's something I'm supposed to remember Dean. Something about my soul." Still frowning Dean got up and went to wash Sam's blood off his hands and face and bring Sam back a clean towel and an ice pack from the mini-fridge. He tosses it on the table and offers Sam a hand up. Sam wobbles for a second then grins ruefully at Dean.
"I forgot how hard you hit." they both chuckle. Dean stands there with his hands on Sam shoulders steadying him.
"We're gonna fix this Sam." Sam nodded.
"Promise me something?" Dean gives Sam a look.
"Dude last time you made me promise something ..." he stops and Sam smiles.
"Heh ... yeah ... listen ... promise me that we won't take off to find Michael without knowing everything were up against ok?" Dean remembered suddenly what Cas had said about the unknown force screwing with Sam's head.
"Wouldn't dream of it." They both look at each other for a moment then laugh.
"Let's head to Bobby's." They grab their duffel bags and head down to the Impala.