Strike Three...
Summary: Sam is having trouble dealing with the powers that were bestowed on him. Dean tries to help, but seems to be hurting Sam more than helping him. Finally Sam has enough of Dean's shit, and takes off to clear his head. Little does he know that what dad always taught him, should have come in handy, he should have paid attention to what goes bump in the night.
Disclaimer: I don't own TRAPT, Supernatural, Jensen Ackles, or Jared Padelecki... I own the plot, but I make no money on this story, only pleasure in my sadistic ways.
Warning: There is violence, and this story has self-harm... If you do not like, please don't read! For those who can handle this story, please review and tell me what you think.
Chapter 2: Disconnected
'You never listen to me, you cannot look me in the eyes;
I have struggled to see why it's so easy to push me aside;
I no longer believe that you were ever on my side;
How could you know what I need when I'm the last thing on your mind?'
(Disconnected; by: TRAPT)
Sam walked into the cabin and heard the sound of water running and Dean's bad singing of, 'Crazy Train.' Sam laughed to himself, and went over to sit on the bed, changing into a long sleeved white shirt with a blue 'Disturbed,' tee-shirt over the top of it, carefully making sure that the cuts on his arms were covered. He was still feeling the weight of his guilt, but it wasn't as harsh as it had been before.
He heard the bathroom door open, and looked up to see Dean in only a pair of jeans, towel drying his hair. (A/N: I know I can't get that image out of my head either.) Dean gave him a curious look, and asked; "Where'd you go earlier?"
"I just went for a walk through the woods," Sam answered, giving him some of the truth, but not why he had done it.
"You never wake up earlier than me..." There was a thoughtful pause, where Dean cocked his head to the side, and asked, "What's wrong Sammy?" Dean's voice and eyes were filled with concern.
Sam's face darkened for a second, as his thoughts from earlier came back to him; but the look passed so quickly Dean didn't know if he was just seeing things. When Sam answered, his voice was hard; "Nothing, I just wanted to go out for a while, and clear my head." His answer was the half truth, and he wasn't willing to give up the other part of it.
Dean sighed, knowing Sam wasn't telling him everything, but knowing from the look on his little brother's face, that he wasn't going to give in without a fight. But that was okay, Dean was the kid's big brother, and he would fight to help Sam. "Look Sam," he said finally; "if you're going through something, you can tell me; I can help." Sam looked up at him, and saw that Dean was trying to be sincere, but Sam knew that his brother would only think him weak for having the thoughts that he did.
"Dean, you think you can help; but you can't... Besides, there's nothing wrong with me." Sam's eyes were haunted as he gazed up at his brother willing the older man to believe him, and Dean shivered at the look, a tremor going down his spine.
"Sam, I'm your brother, and I will help you anyway I can. I know something's wrong, and we aren't leaving until you talk about it, because you can't lose your concentration on this hunt." Dean knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words had left his mouth. He saw Sam tense, and his eyes hardening as he stood up.
"So that's what this is all about huh?" Sam was furious, shaking with pent up anger, and despair at finding out he had been right about what his family thought of him. "Well you can screw your damn hunt! I knew you didn't give a crap about me, that you probably blame me for everything, and hell; I can't blame you!" The walls were shaking, Sam's telekinesis going out of control. "I am to blame, and if you think I can't handle the damn hunt, then you can do it, by your goddamn righteous self!"
Sam walked out of the cabin oblivious to who brother who called after him and tried to follow, but Sam unconsciously slammed the door with his telekinesis, and pushed a piece of wood through the handle, blockading his brother in the cabin. Sam walked through the same trail he had walked earlier, oblivious to the cold biting at him. He was only wearing a long sleeved shirt, and jeans; and it was twenty degrees out, but his anger took control of everything he felt.
Sam turned, veering off his earlier path, and fingered the jack-knife in his pocket. Trees whipped at his face, and he didn't notice, though the scratches on his face were bleeding, and the bruises swelling.
Sam didn't know how long he walked, but he was shivering and the voice of his brother yelling to him had long since disappeared. The sky was starting to change, oranges and reds painted and swirled in the vast expanse. Sam could feel the hunger gnawing at him, from not eating today, and only having a small bag of chips the day before. He was light headed, and could feel a headache coming on.
He felt a presence somewhere behind him, and quickened his pace a little. He walked for a few minutes later, crossing his hands over his chest to try and keep some of the heat in. The sound of a branch snapping behind him, brought Sam up short. He slowly turned around, and found himself looking into a pair of feral, yellow eyes.
The body attached to those eyes towered over Sam's lanky six foot three form. The fur that covered the body was brown and graying, but the muscles that the fur covered made Sam think twice about fighting. The teeth were an inch and a half long, sharp, and dripping with saliva as the animal leered at Sam.
Sam breathed in deeply, and forced himself to remain standing and looking into the eyes of the werewolf that stood only a foot away from him. The werewolf growled and Sam tensed, a blast of telekinesis shoving the animal away from him, and Sam took the chance to take off running in the other direction.
Sam could hear the werewolf following him closely, and forced himself to run faster and harder. He couldn't seem to get enough breath in his lungs, but he ran anyway, not wanting to become dinner. There were three rules that Sam had been taught growing up;
1. If you are armed and can take down the monster, fight.
2. If there is more than one monster and either Dean or dad is close by, hide and wait for one of them to get there and help you.
3. If you are unarmed and alone, run like hell and pray to any god that you are faster than whatever is following you, or that the thing following you screws up somewhere and allows you to get away.
The only option Sam had open at the moment was the third one, and Sam was taking it, not wanting to die just yet. He could hear the heavy breathing behind him, but didn't dare look back to see if the werewolf was gaining on him. There was another snap right behind him, and Sam felt the wind shift before a large paw smashed into his face and he flew into a tree, hearing a snap coming from his ribs. He felt blood running down the side of his face, and looked up to see the werewolf coming at him. His head was spinning and the last thing he heard was a growl, before the darkness claimed him.
TBC
A/N: So what did you think?
Thanks for the reviews… Please review on this chap…
Ana
