I'm deciding to update some of my more older fics because I miss getting reviews in my email :) Hint, hint!
Sam wiped the tears from his eyes. He still stared at the gun. He shook at the thoughts that was running through his head. It would be so easy now, to pull the trigger and end all the suffering. Especially since Dean hated him now. He shook his head, biting his lip. No, he didn't deserve that kind of release. He had to suffer some more. Suffer for what he had done to his family. Suffer for killing their father.
He also had to get away. Had to breathe. Quickly he left, and ran to the nearest bar. In the back they laid John Winchester down on the sticks that they had put together. Bobby cleared his throat.
"I know you're pissed at Sam right now," he said softly and Dean glowered at him.
"Pissed is an understatment," he hissed dangerously. Bobby nodded.
"But shouldn't he be here too? It's not like he wanted to...shoot John."
Dean closed his eyes, knowing the answer to that question. He finally nodded.
"You get him, though," he said stiffly. "I can't talk to him right now."
Bobby sighed, swallowing his anger, and nodded. He went to the front porch.
"Sam?" He called. "Sam?!" He stared down the dirt road and saw the footprints heading towards the town. "Damn it!" He cursed angrily, slamming the door. He should never have left that kid alone in the state he was in. He walked towards the back.
"Where is he?" Dean asked, looking up. Worry was in his eyes. While he wanted to hate his brother for what happened he couldn't deny that he was also worried about the kid. That he still cared for him.
"He left," Bobby muttered. "Towards town. Probably at one of the bars or something." He sook his head. "I shouldn't have left him alone."
"Yeah, well you did," Dean snapped. "Sam obviously didn't want to be here to burn dad, not that I blame him. So let's just get this over with. Okay?" He sighed at the hurt and worried look on Bobby's face. "Than we'll go look for him," he added in a mumble and Bobby slowly nodded.
Both stood there in silence as John Winchester's body burst into flames. Dean swallowed and swallowed again, every part of him aching, as he watched the flames rise and dance to no where. He kept on blinking back the tears that tried to blind him. His father was dead. And why? Because his little brother killed him. So many mixed emotions. He hated Sammy, he really did. But the other part of him knew that he still loved his brother. No matter what Sammy did, that love couldn't be killed. No matter how badly he wanted it too. Why couldn't he just hate his brother in peace? It's not like Sam deserved to be loved anymore. After all, he killed their father. And Dean had to watch as the bullit hit the head.
Anger was trying to take control. Dean could feel it. It terrified him. They continued to watch in silence until the dusk fell and the fire dimmed. He sighed and turned to Bobby.
"All right," he said softly. "Let's go find Sam."
Bobby nodded, still not sure what to say.
"Hey, bartender," Sam slurred. "Pour me 'nother, will ya?"
The bartender sighed.
"Don't you think you've had enough son?" He asked. He had seen enough alcoholics to know the tye. This kid didn't fit in the package.
Sam shook his head.
"No, my father just died," he snapped. "I don't think I've had enough."
'Well' thought the bartender. 'That explained it'
He poured Sam another glass.
"No more," he warned him. Sam pretended not to hear as he chugged it like it was water. Finally he stumbled outside, unable to see straight, ignoring the bartenders plea to call a cab. He didn't deserve help from anyone. Not after what he did.
He saw a group of men surrounding a young girl. She was about a teenager and clearly looked out of place.
"Want me to buy you a drink?" One sneered. She shook her head, fear in her eyes.
"No thanks, I'm just waiting for my brother," she said, her voice shaking. "To get off work..."
"While you wait, why don't you entertain us?" Other one laughed, moving in towards his face.
"Hey!" Sam shouted suddenly, surprising himself. "She said no you asshole."
The group turned and the girl put her hand over her mouth in fear.
"You talkin' to us, kid?" One of them asked. Sam just stared at him, anger fuming in his eyes.
"Yeah I am, you pathetic dick." He never spoke like that. But releasing the anger felt good for a change. Suddenly the men had him surrounded. One of them had a club in his hand. Another a knife.
"Let's get him boys!" The leader, the one that had hit on the girl first, yelled with excitment. The girl screamed and ran as they jumped him, dragging him back to the alley. He didn't fight back as he allowed the blows to hit his head. Blood was dripping everywhere. His ribs were broken. A knife rammed into his chest. He shouted in pain on instinct, but really this was what he deserved. Maybe he was even looking for a fight. He wanted this pain. After what he did to his father, it seemed like a just punishment. So he allowed them to continue to beat him, hitting his head over with a baseball bat, until he collapsed on the ground and passed out. In a bored manner they decided it was enough and left him for dead. The knife still in his chest.
Dean sped towards the town and Bobby pointed to the nearest and only bar in it. Dean's eyes widend as he saw what looked like Sam's jacket laying on the pavement in front of the bar. Not bothering to park he stopped the car in the middle of the parking lot.
"Sam?!" Protectiveness consumed him. He knew something was wrong. He just sensed it. He ran to the jacket. It was covered in blood. Feeling sick he continued to call Sam's name and than noticed the trail of blood leading towards the alley. The bar was far too noisy for anyone to notice him shouting like a maniac. They didn't even hear the fighting that had just happened. Partly because Sam barely cried out in pain and bore it in silence. Dean ran to the alley and neasua consumed him momentarily as he saw his brother laying on the ground, covered in blood.
"Oh my God," he breathed. Bobby stood next to him in shock. Dean had just lost his father. He couldn't lose his brother too. "Sammy?! Sammy!" He raced to his brother, praying for Sam to be all right. Praying that they weren't too late...
Like it? Hate it? Whatever you feel, please review and let me know! Please, with cherry on top? Yes I love Sam angst but I know you do to! :)
