Chapter 10
"DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME, JEZEBEL! DON'T YOU DARE! Or I'll follow you to the next world and KILL you."
― L.J. Smith, Huntress
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NOW...
While Castiel and Jack were fighting the demons in the room, throwing punches and using their angel grace to destroy them, Dean was busy on the one job he had on this Earth. Keep, or try to keep, better said, Sammy alive. The deep gash on his stomach was bleeding more than he had ever seen in his years as a hunter, and he didn't need to be a doctor to know that the situation was not good. The blood was, somehow, staining his clothing as well, as he almost dragged his brother through the dirty and bloody four walls sorrounding them.
"Sammy, come on man, we need to get the hell out of here and seek for a real doctor. I' won't let you fall, but you need to walk a little bit farther for me, okay?" asked Dean with gentle voice, holding Sam by passing a hand through his armpit and the other one above his injuried stomach, pretty much supporting the dead weight of his little brother's giant body. Through the years he had wondered how a kid that ate salad and fruit every day could be so heavy, but now he could not focus on that. Sam was trying to keep pressure on the wound, however, his strenght was failing him.
While walking, Sam started coughing blood through his mouth, and slowly, close his eyes. He could feel it. Even though he wanted to believe that he would be able to tell the story , he knew he was going to die. There was too much blood on his hands and the piece of clothing that was making pressure on his waist. The feeling of numbness in his body was too much to even concentrate of the little spark of hope that he and his brother seemed to find in the worst moments of their lives, even when they were all beat up and tired. Dean was talking to him, or so he thought, but he could not understand what he was saying. His legs failed him again, almost falling to the ground limp, white as a hospital bed sheet. He could still feel Dean's tense body holding him, forcing him to take uncoordinated steps as he tried to keep his mouth shut, trying to be be strong for his elder brother. Every single move seemed to be happening in slow motion, as if was just a dream. The feeling reminded him of Cold Oak, where he died, stabbed by Jake. Death was calling him again, and this time there was nothing Dean could do to bring him back. He knew how hard it felt to live without each other, wasting oxygen when other people needed it. A few seconds passed, and he felt some kind of weird peaceful feeling, despite the fear of not being anymore on Earth to fight along with his brother. What would Dean do this time? He even wondered what would happen to his room. Yes, he knew that it was not something that he should be asking to himself at the moment, but he could imagine his elder brother keeping everything like he had left it before leaving the bunker, or drinking outside the door of it. He knew his brother too well, so he didn't even had to think about it twice. That would happen, like it or not.
When the younger hunter could no longer keep himself together, fell to the floor, hearing his brother's screams, his hands trying to grab him again, failing at supporting that weight back again.
"-C'mon man! Sammy, don't you dare die on me, you hear me? SAM! SAMMY!"
"Dee" said Sam in low voice, barely aware of the fight that was going on a few feet behind him. When his lips parted, he felt the metalic taste of blood again. He wanted to say so many things to Dean before closing his eyes, many things that they rarely said because of the way they grew up. John told them that hunters were not supposed to be emotional and weak. They had to be strong, sharp, obedient and smart. Sam covered the smart part since he started hunting, and Dean was the one that always followed the rules, no matter what happened. He was the good soldier, the son that John had wanted him to be like too.
Now, many years later after his father's death, he understood him when he said those wise words to them. Having emotions only put him and the ones he loved in trouble, but he could not manage them as he would like to. Maybe it was a trial that destiny, God, or whoever ruled the world put in the way to remind them how screwed up he and his brother were. Dean was the most important person he had in his life. Of course, Bobby, John, Jo and Charlie's death had been hard on both Winchesters. Losing someone always hit them harder than other ones, since they knew what did it. The rest of the people only thought about the medical causes, not aware of what was out there when the sun went down. All those poeple were lucky. For nine years he had had that innocence, despite the questions that his elder brother would not answer, no matter how many times he asked them.
"Dee, 'm s-sorry" said Sam, suddenly feeling too tired to keep his eyes open.
"Stay here, okay? Keep your eyes open while I go get the car. I am gonna come back for you, I promise you that" said Dean, denying the bad feeling in his gut that something bad was gonna happen. Sam HAD to be okay. It was his freaking job, and he was gonna make sure that that happened.
"S-Stop Dee... 'm seeing her" murmured the younger Winchester, slightly smiling at Jess, who was calling his name from the distance. Her curly hair was as blonde as he had seen it before going to find his dad with Dean, and the Smurfs shirt, that he bought for her, smelled like roses, just like he remembered. Jess always used a fragrance that he loved. He wanted to stay, but another part of him started to follow the smell of roses that Jess left behind.
"NO! SAMMY, PLEASE, STAY WITH ME MAN! SAMMY, 'M BEGGING YOU, DAMMIT!" yelled Dean, holding Sam, as if he could somehow keep him alive. Sam's head was lolling and out of control as his body was getting colder and even paler than before.
Dean started shaking Sam's body desperately with one hand as he applied pressure on the wound with his other one. When Sam closed his eyes and body went limp, he just knew it, even if he was not gonna admit it.
Sam could not be dead. He was supposed to be the one that saved him from those demons and bring him home again. They were supposed to have a long talk that involved saying "Sorry" in the Winchester way, ending the day with a cold beer and watch some Netflix as they often did when they were not hunting or they were out of plans to get their mother back, trying to distract their minds from the fact that they had been cursed since the very first moment they took their first breaths.
Dean checked for a pulse, closing his eyes as a single tear slid down his face. There was no pulse. Sam was dead. Sammy was fucking dead.
The elder hunter leaned Sam's body on the floor, pulled his knife out of his pocket and murmured to his brother
"I am gonna come back, Sammy. I am sorry, so freaking sorry"
The Dean Winchester that Castiel and Jack knew was not the one that they saw as soon as he entered inside the room. He hardly looked at them, walking towards one of the demons that were fighting with Cass.
"You freaking SON OF A BITCH!" yelled, stabbing it many times, even after he was no longer alive. He had stabbed Sammy, and he had witnessed it. He should have known that the demon had a knife. Why was he so stupid?
When all the demons were dead, the two angels and elder hunter walked towards Sam's still body. Once his body was lying down on the backseat,his head resting on Jack's legs, the Impala drove away. No one said anything, but they didn't need to. Now they had to find a way to save Sam, if that was even possible.
TBC...
Author's note: Hey guys! I know that I have not been really updating my fics, but I am really busy :( Hopefully this chapter is enough for a while...
Anyway, please, let me know what you think about this chapter and if you want me to do the last one... Will Sam come back to life? Who will bring him back if so?
See ya soon! Love u :)
