Happy holidays everyone!
This chapter is dedicated to TotallyChic, who requested "Can you have Dean be the one that almost kills Sam and feels guilty afterwards?" Yes! I love guilty!Dean (I'm so cruel haha).
This is set at Christmas, so I guess you could call this a Christmas special.
Again, I'm bad with the timeline since I'm new to the fandom, but this is set in season 7.
"Merry Christmas, Sam," floated Dean's voice from above Sam when he woke up. Groggily, he sat up, giving his brother a strange look.
"Why are you up before me?" he asked, glancing at the clock - it was 6:30 in the morning.
"You know me, Sammy, I like to enjoy every minute of Christmas," Dean said, tossing Sam a small wrapped box. "Here."
"Right," Sam said, getting out of bed and going to his duffel bag. He pulled out a small gift as well, wrapped in a shiny green foil. He paused to contemplate the gifts, a small smile on his face. "Wow. We both wrapped with actual wrapping paper this year. Is that a first?"
Dean shrugged. "It's the last Christmas as we know it before the Leviathans take over the world. What do you expect?"
Sam could feel his smile sliding off of his face, but ignored the sudden realization by thrusting his gift to Dean.
"You open first," he said, leaning back onto his bed. Sudden movement behind him made him jump, and he twisted around rapidly to find himself face to face with Lucifer.
"Nah, Sam, you open first," Lucifer said, gesticulating at him.
Sam turned back around slowly, feeling the devil's breath on his neck, and made eye contact with Dean, who raised his eyebrows.
"You seeing him?" Dean asked quietly.
Sam sighed. "Yeah. He's behind me."
"Tell him to take a hike," Dean said bluntly. "Or I'll shoot at him. No way are you hallucinating on Christmas."
"It won't work, Dean," Sam said defeatedly, ignoring the taunting looks Lucifer was giving him. "He's not about to just leave."
"But… Sam, he's not actually here," Dean responded, frowning.
"I know that," Sam snorted. "You think I haven't tried telling myself that repeatedly?" He flinched against his will as Lucifer lunged at him suddenly, cackling at his reaction.
Dean stood up suddenly, putting down the unopened gift sharply, and took out a beer.
"Really, Dean? Beer on Christmas morning?" Sam asked, pursing his lips.
"Hey. There are monsters taking over the world, and my little brother is hallucinating the devil. I think I'm entitled," Dean said in response, taking a large sip.
"Sam, do you think I'm entitled to use your knife?" Lucifer asked meekly, holding Sam's knife up. Sam flicked his eyes briefly over to the knife before bringing himself back to Dean.
"Open your gift," Dean prompted, leaning back to sip his beer again. "Go on."
Sam gingerly took the gift that his brother had carefully wrapped and untied the ribbon - Dean really had gone all out this year - to find a book on the fall of Rome.
"Saw it in the haunted bookstore that we took care a couple weeks ago," Dean said, shrugging. "It seemed nerdy, so I thought it'd be perfect."
"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, genuinely taken aback. "Open yours."
Dean obliged, and tore the wrapping. "Hey! A new knife!" he said, looking pleased. "Thanks, Sam!" He twirled it in his fingers.
"It's infused with silver and iron," Sam explained. "Should work on a lot of our hunts."
"Silver and iron? Do you think it would work on you?" Lucifer asked, now holding Dean's new knife in his hand tightly. With one look at his brother, Sam could see the knife on the other side of the room, but it didn't make the version held in the devil's hands any less real. "We could always try." He brought the tip of the knife down Sam's arm, drawing blood - hot, crimson blood that Sam knew wasn't real, but it didn't make the sting any less real. He clutched his arm, willing himself not to gasp, and focused on his brother.
"What's he doing now?" Dean demanded.
"Nothing," Sam said automatically. "I'm fine, Dean." He had no desire to be pitied at the moment and though his brother meant well, he detested Dean's expression that clearly read that he thought Sam was vulnerable and helpless.
"No, you're sure as hell not fine, Sam. You're hallucinating! On Christmas!" There was fury in Dean's eyes, but more than usual. Sam couldn't help but feel annoyed by the sudden surge of protectiveness his brother was exhibiting.
Dean pointed vaguely behind Sam. "Where is he now?"
"Uh…" Sam said, hesitating. He pointed to his direct left, where Lucifer was now sharpening his knife and wiping Sam's blood off of it. "Right there. Sitting on the edge of the bed."
Dean poised his new knife above his head, reading to whip it at where Lucifer was sitting in Sam's hallucination.
It was as though in slow motion. Sam glanced from his brother, who was exhaling while aiming, and to Lucifer, who snapped his fingers. Flames erupted on the entire right side of his bed, behind him, and in front of him, leaving only the space to his left safe from the fire. Pure instinct kicked in as he felt the white-hot orange lights dance across his skin, inflicting an agonizing burn as they did so. He yelped, diving to the left, realizing that his instinctual reaction was a vast mistake as he saw the knife flying towards him swiftly - Dean had released it.
Snick.
Sam looked down in shock. The flames were extinguished suddenly, and Lucifer winked at Sam before vanishing. The hilt of the knife was jutting out of the left side of his abdomen.
Dean had really thrown that knife hard, he couldn't help but think, and there was a sudden dead silence in the room before Dean leapt off of the bed and ran to his side.
"Sammy?! Oh, God, no, I'm so sorry!"
Sam could hear Dean letting out a long string of profuse apologies, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the knife stuck in his body.
"-mean to, Sam, this is all my fault, I can't believe I… I was just so angry, and I thought throwing a knife at him would make him go away, maybe, and… and…"
Sam leaned into Dean, aware suddenly that he didn't have the energy to pull away from his older brother's touch. There was pain in his side… immense pain… but more blinding was the fogging in his head that was obscuring Dean's words slightly. Cold tingled over his body and his head spun.
"Sam, I'm calling 911!" came Dean's voice, and his brother was suddenly gone from his side. Sam toppled forward, feeling with his hand for the hilt of the knife. He was so stupid. The fire hadn't been real, yet he'd acted like it was… jumping straight into the path of an oncoming knife that he knew was coming…
"Sam!" Dean was gripping his face, cupping the sides of his head in his hands. "God, no, please, Sammy, hang in there!"
Sam tried to tell him it wasn't that bad of a wound but then words wouldn't come. He looked down again and saw that a dark red pool of blood had collected in his knees where he was kneeling. Oh. Maybe it was worse than he thought. Dean was practically hugging him, keeping a tight hold and babbling still.
"Sam, the ambulance is coming, see? Hear the sirens? It's coming!" There were tears in his brother's eyes.
"Not your fault," Sam managed to cough out. "I'm… fine, Dean."
"Hey - stay awake!" There was a prodding to Sam's face and he opened his eyes again.
"Dean?"
"Yeah, I'm here, Sammy."
"It's not your fault," Sam repeated, bent on getting the message through to Dean. "The hallucination… I reacted to it, it made me move into the way… not your fault."
There was no response, and Sam closed his eyes, drifting into the warm comfort of his brother's arms.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
There was some kind of loud beeping above Sam. It was rather irritating. His bed was surprisingly soft considering the motel they were staying at. He opened his eyes with difficulty, blinking away the crust in the corners of his eyes.
"Dean?" he muttered, seeking out his brother's form.
"Sam?" was the immediate response. "How are you feeling?"
"Like…" Sam considered the question. "Like I'm in the hospital because I… got hurt on a hunt or something."
"Close. I… I threw a knife at you." Dean's voice was shaky. "God, Sam, I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to."
"My fault. Lucifer's fault," Sam managed, remembering suddenly what had happened. "Not… yours." He could feel Dean's hand on his shoulder.
"H-has your hand… been there the whole time?" he asked, the room spinning slightly. Drugs, probably, a voice said in the back of his mind.
"Um," Dean stalled, moving his hand quickly.
"Thanks, Dean."
"For what?"
"For… the book," Sam muttered, thinking of the book his brother gave him, and he fell back asleep with the comfort of knowing his older brother was there with him.
Thanks for reading, and thank you again to TotallyChic for the prompt!
Reviews, favorites, and follows are all greatly appreciated and would really make my day :)
Happy holidays!