Brother's Keeper
by scarlet79
"Raw Edges"
Jess was gone.
Sam stood in front of her grave in the darkened cemetery, his vision blurred by tears. She was his first true love, the person he thought he could spend his whole life with. But now she was dead, taken by the same monster that had taken his mother. He couldn't help but feel angry, not just at whatever this thing was, but at his family. If Dean hadn't come back asking for help, if Dad hadn't gone missing in the first place, none of this would've happened.
She'd still be here, and they'd be happy.
Sam crouched down and traced his fingers across her name, engraved into the cold stone. She had been such a beautiful, caring person, so full of life. It felt wrong, the cool granite under his hand. Cold equaled death, oblivion, and he couldn't stand the fact that her body, whatever was left after the intense fire that had ripped through their bedroom, was lying in the cold ground, surrounded by dirt and rock. He wanted her to be standing here, beside him, her warm hand laid comfortingly on his bicep.
Not down there.
Not down there, gone away from him forever.
The tears stung his eyes again, but he angrily wiped them away. None of this was fair! He just wanted to be happy – to feel safe. Why was that so wrong? Why was he doomed to a life on the road, searching for their missing father as they hunted down evil creatures, instead of becoming a successful lawyer with a wife and maybe a kid or two? It was all he ever wanted, and in a matter of moments it was all ripped away from him. Jess dead, Dad missing and possibly in danger...it was all too much for him.
He hadn't even realized he'd been crying, actually weeping, until his knees gave out and he sank to the grass, his hands gripping Jessica's headstone as if it were the only thing keeping him from being swept away in a storm. His tears were hot, and they reminded him of the way she'd died, pinned to the ceiling, her belly ripped open, her mouth opened in a silent scream just before white-hot flames burst from her body and engulfed the room. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, for everything she went through because of him, but it was too late.
She was in Heaven now.
That thought brought his mind to a screeching halt. Was she in Heaven? He shook his head. Of course she was. She was a good person, and Heaven was where good people ended up.
Right?
A hand, large and firm but gentle, laid on his shoulder.
Dean.
"I'm sorry, Sammy. Really."
At the sound of his nickname – the name of a child – Sam suddenly sprang to his feet and whirled around to face his brother.
"No, you're not!" he shouted angrily.
"Sammy..."
"Stop calling me that!" Sam cried, shoving Dean away from him with both hands. Dean stumbled backward a few feet, but caught himself before he tripped over a headstone. "My name's Sam!" he choked back a sob, his frown deepening. "And this is all your fault!"
"I know," Dean said quietly. His chest stung from the blow, but he resisted the urge to rub it. He guessed that he'd deserved it, after all.
"If you hadn't come here and convinced me to help you look for Dad, she'd still be alive! I was finally gonna be happy, Dean! I was gonna have a good job, a family of my own! Why did you have to ruin it? Why?"
Dean's jaw muscle worked, but he said nothing.
"It must really piss you off, me going off and actually being happy with who I am. Finding someone I could settle down with, having a job that doesn't require stitches at the end of the night. How dare I want something like that, right? How dare I leave you and Dad to follow my own dreams!"
"That's all they are, Sam!" Dean finally shouted back. "Dreams! You know what's really out there, under the surface! You had to know that something like this would've happened eventually, whether I was around or not! Changing your life or your job doesn't change your last name, Sam. You wanna know what you are? You're a Winchester. And because of that, something would've come looking for you sooner or later!"
"She didn't deserve to die!" Sam gestured at the grave for emphasis.
"I know! And I'm not gonna stand here and tell you to suck it up and move on, because I know how much you loved her. Those feelings don't just go away overnight. But what I am saying, is that this creature – whatever it is that killed our mom and Jess – it's still out there, somewhere. We have to find it before it takes another innocent person!"
Sam visibly deflated at that. Dean was right, of course, but that wouldn't keep Sam from being pissed off, hurt, whatever the hell it was that he was feeling right now.
"Look, Sam," Dean began, watching Sam to see if he would strike out at him again. When nothing came, he went on, "I really am sorry this all happened. There couldn't have been a nicer girl, and you sure as hell didn't deserve it, either. But the fact is that it happened. It's done, and there's nothing else we can do about it now, except find the sonofabitch that did it and put a bullet in it."
The younger Winchester nodded sadly. He tried to say something, to tell Dean he was right, and that he was sorry, but his throat felt raw, as if he'd been screaming at the top of his lungs for an hour straight. Instead, he turned and knelt again in front of the headstone, whispered something, and then stood and walked away toward the Impala.
Dean followed after him, stopping in front of the driver's side door. Looking at Sam over the slick black roof of the car, he asked, "You ready?"
Sam glanced back once more toward Jessica's plot, then nodded and pulled open his door.
"Yeah. Let's go."
Next chapter to follow...
