Disclaimer: It depends; I don't own them in real life, but in my dreams...
Summary: Alternative ending for Provenance, so mind the spoilers! Brother's angst, nervous breakdown...I hope you like it ;-) Oh, and character's death involved (evil laugh).
Here you have the next installment! As promised Thanks to you all for your amazing support. And Em, you've got all my love and devotion.
UNANSWERED CALLS
Previously
"She's not Jessica. You hear me? Sam, she's NOT Jessica!"
Sam's next breath broke into a sob.
"I know that! But I killed them both!" he cried. "I killed them, just like I killed Mom!"
Dean's heart raced, but before he had time to let Sam's words sink in, he noticed that his little brother's grip had weakened for a split second. It was enough for Dean to shift himself and gain the upper hand in the struggle.
Chapter 3
"Get off me! LET ME GO!" Sam howled.
Ignoring Sam's frantic thrashing, Dean hauled him away from Sarah's body. At some point one of them kicked the piano, and the cabinet slid a couple of inches, causing a new shower of shattered glass to flow over their heads. Dean covered Sam with his body as he pulled him out of danger. Nevertheless, the tingling rain falling over his back made him lose his focus for an instant, and suddenly Sam connected a hard elbow into Dean's stomach. The latter let out a pained gasp and released his brother.
"Sam…" Dean wheezed.
Oblivious to the glass pieces that pierced his hands and knees, the younger hunter crawled away from Dean and stood up unsteadily. His breath was labored, and he stumbled against the wall as soon as he was on his feet. Dean got up too, panting heavily after the struggle. Positioning himself so that he was blocking Sarah's body from Sam's view, Dean set his gaze on his brother's bewildered eyes, and inhaled deeply. He needed to remain calm for his brother's sake. Judging by Sam's looks, he was still in shock, and if he pushed too hard, he would slip over the edge.
"Hey, Sammy," he called to him softly. "Man, you have to calm down, okay?"
Sam frowned and squeezed the bridge of his nose. His lips quivered, as if they were trying to form some kind of sound, but no word escaped them. He seemed utterly confused and barely aware of his surroundings. His head slumped between his shoulders, and his eyes started to drift closed.
"No, no, no, look at me, bro," Dean pressed. "C'mon."
Sam's eyes fluttered open again and struggled to focus on Dean. When they did, the older brother glimpsed a faint flicker of recognition in them. It was weak, but Dean held onto it in order to reassure himself that his brother was still in there somewhere.
"That's it," Dean said, encouragingly. "You're going to be fine."
Sam's eyes welled with unshed tears but remained fixed on Dean's. Dean took his silence as acquiescence and stepped towards him. Immediately, Sam recoiled and raised a hand to stop him.
"Don't."
"Sammy."
"Stay away from me."
"What? Why?"
"Because I killed them…"
"Dammit, Sam," Dean said, clenching his fists. "Stop saying that. You didn't kill them. You haven't killed anybody in your whole life."
"But they died because of me. They died because they were close to me," Sam went on stubbornly. "I told Sarah, but she didn't want to believe me. Every time I let a person get close to me, they die. Mom died, and Jess died, and Sarah…"
"For Christ sake, Sam, stop it," Dean ordered.
"You need to stay away from me."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because I'm cursed."
Floored by Sam's statement, Dean could only stare at his brother. In fact he was so shocked that it took him a moment to find words with which to respond.
"You are not cursed, Sam," Dean said, shaking his head.
"It's not safe to be around me."
"That's bullshit, man! What about all the people you've saved? How do you explain them?"
"They were just people. I didn't care about them. But you…you're not safe around me. I can't let anything happen to you!"
"Nothing's going to happen to me!"
"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" Sam lashed out.
Sam's breath hitched, and he raised a hand to rub his forehead, but in doing so his eyes lingered on the blood that stained it. It was as if he had become aware of it for the first time. Dean noticed his brother's loss of color and watched as Sam's eyes widened, and he started shaking badly. Dean realized that Sam was panicking when he let out a strangled moan.
This wasn't good.
Without a second thought, Dean tried to approach him again.
"DON'T," the younger brother shouted, backing away like a caged animal.
Dean slowed down and raised his palms to ease Sam, but the distressed man wasn't fooled. Stumbling over a table knocked over the carpet, he tried to get as far away from Dean as possible.
"Don't come any closer!"
"I'm not going to hurt you, Sam."
"But I will! I WILL! I don't want to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt anybody else! Just leave me alone!"
"I can't do that," Dean said, reaching out for him.
Sam pushed Dean away hard and stepped back; his eyes darted from his older brother to the living room door.
"Please, just…I have to do this."
Dean noticed Sam's glance towards the door and tensed.
"Do what?" Dean asked suspiciously.
"Leave. I need to leave alone. I need you to promise you won't try to find me," Sam brokenly blurted out.
Dean cocked an eyebrow and glared at Sam as if the kid had just gone crazy. Sammy used to hate it when his big brother used that particular look to discredit his tantrums, but Dean knew that while it pissed Sam to end, it got him back to his senses too. However, this time, Dean detected no signs of aggravation in Sam. On the contrary, he kept staring at Dean with imploring eyes. Sam was serious.
"Ah, Sammy-boy. You're not that tired of my music already, are you?" Dean asked, chuckling nervously.
Probably humor wasn't the best approach, but it was the only approach Dean was able to come up with to mask how deep this driven, blood-shot, distorted version of Sam's puppy-eye look was hurting him.
"Promise me," Sam begged.
"Sorry, Sam," Dean grunted. "That's not going to happen."
Obviously disheartened and looking defeated to the core, Sam dropped his eyes. Dean felt bad, but Sam had to be out of his mind if he really thought that he would just step aside and watch as his baby brother disappeared from his life forever.
Again.
"C'mon," the older man muttered, walking to his brother once more. "Let's just get out of here, alright?"
Sam pursed his lips and glared at Dean in a way that made his big brother shiver. Then, Sam reached for the back of his trousers and pulled out a gun. Dean held his breath when his baby bother aimed the gun at him and stopped in the middle of the room.
"Sam?", Dean locked eyes with him intently and forced out his calmest tone. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm sorry," Sam said, sniffling.
"Now put the gun down, okay? Just take it easy. Put the gun down, and we'll talk about this."
"No. I'm leaving. And you're not following me. And you're not looking for me. Promise me you won't."
"I told you I can't do that."
"You're gonna have to."
"Or what? Sammy listen to yourself! You'renot making any sense! You want to take off because you're afraid to hurt me? And to stop me from following you, you're going to kill me?"
Sam's Adam's apple wobbled, and the gun wavered in his hand.
"I could shoot you in the leg," he offered with an uneven voice. "That wouldn't kill you."
"Well, that wouldn't stop me either."
Sam's expression became unreadable as he slowly lowered the gun.
"You're right."
Dean released his breath, yet relief refused to manifest. That had been too easy. Something was wrong. And he knew what it was when he watched in alarm as Sam directed the gun to his own head.
"I'm sorry."
TBC...
So, what should I do now? Another death in the family? Do you want to save Sam? Review!
Ok, I know you probably hate me by now...But next Thursday you'll get the ending!
