Abomination
Summary: Sam and Dean have always been freaks, Sam found out when he was twenty two just how much of a freak he was. It wasn't until the boys are trapped once again by the demon that they find out Dean's little secret that none of them knew about. Just a quick one shot that's been playing on my mind.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em or the show but man… I wish I did.
Howdy! Err, I mean Hi! Thank you for the reviews! They mean loads to me and help me in writing quick updates... if you can call this quick.
Fell On Black Days
"Sammy!" Dean raised his voice a little, hoping for a response. He held his brother by the shoulders and knelt in front, trying to catch Sam's gaze, "Come on little bro', you're starting to freak me out."
Their eyes locked and Sam moved his mouth, trying to form words but before anything even had the chance to come out he felt the acidic touch of bile rising in his throat and he knew he wouldn't be able to force it back down. The only other choice was breaking from his brother's grasp and running to the bathroom where he would surely throw his entire insides up.
He barely made it in time before his heaving started bringing up the contents of a half full stomach and he kept heaving, pausing only for seconds between each one, until his stomach was empty. Dean was kneeling next to him, patting and rubbing him on the back and Sam welcomed the comforting touch.
His entire body was shaking and he took several deep breaths to try and steady himself. When he finally felt he was ready to stand Dean helped him up, determined not to break that contact. Sam leant over the sink, hand forcing the cold tap to spin and flow with the sweet cooling water that he splashed on his face and rinsed his mouth out with.
"Feeling better?" Dean asked, finally relinquishing his hold on his brother.
Sam just nodded slowly, closing his eyes.
"Wanna talk about it?" Dean flushed the contents in the toilet away and put the lid down, taking a seat. He watched his brother carefully; taking in every shudder, every breath and every shaking limb.
Sam didn't answer; he just turned his head away from Dean.
"Was it a vision?"
Sam nodded that time, though Dean couldn't help but notice the numb like quality it held. He swallowed hard, Sam's hesitation showed it was something that had probably either seriously scared him or seriously disgusted him, maybe even both, and Dean just wasn't sure whether he should push. But Sam decided for him.
"Dean…" Sam looked him straight in his eyes and Dean saw pleading and fear mixed in his features, "Dean… I…"
"It's okay." Dean said, "Whatever you saw, we'll stop it."
Sam shook his head in disbelief, "But Dean… it was me… I… I killed a girl."
Dean felt his whole body tense up at Sam's admission; now it was his turn to be disbelieving, "You what? No, Sam. No. If it was you, you must have had a reason – she was possessed or something, simple as. She must have been – "
Sam cut his words off, tears forming in his eyes, he felt dirty and couldn't stop the anger rising inside of him, "Been what? Evil? No Dean, she wasn't. It was me! I'd gone dark side or something. I killed her and…" I'd enjoyed it. The last words went unspoken and Dean didn't even question their absence.
"No, you didn't. You haven't killed anyone Sam and you're not going to. It was a vision. Whatever you saw happen, we'll stop it."
"How can you be so sure?" Sam was amazed by how much faith his brother had in him being good and after that vision, he just wasn't sure if Dean should really trust him.
Dean was standing now; his body had started shaking but from fear, anger… he didn't know. This was the first time Sam had ever had a vision about himself and yeah, it scared the hell out of Dean that in it, Sam had been evil. "I made a promise. I promised you and Dad that if I couldn't save you then I'd kill you. You both know that I keep my promises and I know for damned sure that I can't kill you, that only leaves us with one option. Don't it?"
Sam stared into those protective hazel eyes, glazed with emotion and tried to make out what Dean was truly feeling. The eyes held no accusation, the voice held no disappointment. Determination, strength, need, love… these shone clearly in his eyes and rang clearly in his voice and Sam bit his lip, allowing himself to relax and nod.
"We've stopped your visions from happening before." Dean shrugged and he walked past Sam and back out into the bedroom, "Besides, who's to say it ain't just that yellow eyed bastard trying to screw with your mind? Hell, maybe it was a shape shifter."
Sam glanced at his reflection in the mirror as Dean spoke, haunted eyes stared back at him and water droplets made their way down his paling skin. He looked away and took a deep breath before following Dean back into the other room. Closing the door behind, he made his way over to his bed and sat down on the end, "It wasn't a shape shifter… Hell, I don't know, maybe something is messing with my mind but it was definitely me in the vision."
Dean ran his hand through his hair, leaning back against his beds headboard. Sammy seemed so certain but Dean just couldn't wrap his head around it. Maybe it was denial but Sam was the good guy, he had a cleaner record than Dean did. Sam was Dean's conscience; he was the one that always stopped Dean from taking it a step too far. He shook the thoughts away and watched Sam as he stared unfocused at the floor.
"You know, you look like a freaking zombie."
"Thanks." Sam rolled his eyes, lifting his head slightly to look over at Dean.
"Seriously Sam, get some sleep. You're no good to me without those boyish good looks that all the grandma's love."
Sam actually smiled and nodded. Dean, the defuser of tense situations. He smirked slightly at the thought and found himself crawling under his covers and throwing his head down against the soft pillow. Now that the adrenaline had started to leave his system and the shock was wearing off, his eyes felt amazingly heavy and it was hard keeping them open.
The adrenaline in Dean's system was still pumping though and though he could barely make out Sam through the haze of darkness, he watched his younger brother and continued watching him even well after Sam's breathing had evened out and fell into the same pattern it always did when he was asleep.
"I would give anything for you not to have to worry about stuff like that Sammy. I'd take those visions and those headaches…" Dean whispered solemnly, "I'm sorry."
It wasn't until the sun had started rising that Dean's eyelids started fighting him, protesting. They drooped and sagged and every time he tried to rub or blink the sleep away, it just got worse until finally they closed and they didn't open back up.
Resistant was one word to describe the Winchester brothers, challenging was another one. But what was life without a few challenges? What was the point of getting what you wanted all the time if it wasn't even any fun? That's what it was… a game. Command and conquer; battleships; risk… war games. If there was one thing he admired about humans, it was their ability to turn war into a game. And if there was anything to be admired about the Winchesters, it was that they truly made the game fun.
He had his strategy all planned out. Everything was in place, it was just a matter of moving the right pieces and hoping that his opponents reacted in the way he wanted them to because asides from being great with creating war and mayhem, humans could also be extremely unpredictable and sometimes the unpredictability came with heroics and yes, heroics were amusing but they were also annoying.
Dean and Sam Winchester were heroic. They were selfless and noble and righteous and there were some things that he'd never understand, like why John Winchester was so willing to give up his soul to save his eldest son. He sometimes wondered if the oldest Winchester knew something about this anomaly that was Dean; the one person that didn't fit his pattern or plans, the one person that he was fast tiring of playing with and the one person that he wanted removing from the equation right now because even demons can become impatient.