When Angels Fall
Author's Note
For Kaly – wow this Secret Santa fic will be year long at this rate…actually only a few chapters left so hopefully not!
Special mention once more to Mariazinha for her kind words and thoughts, and hoping that her crappy day improves! And to everyone who has been so very patient, please accept my apologies for the time between updates. This has been such a difficult chapter for me - I sincerely hope that you enjoy it.
Special thanks to Geminigirl, Sifi and Beist for being wonderful Betas…what would I do without you? Well, apart from write badly!
Summary
One brother makes a bargain that may ultimately cost the Winchesters more than they are willing to pay. This will be slightly AU as will eventually include John, Caleb and Pastor Jim.
Disclaimer
Still not mine…but luckily I have a vivid imagination that almost makes up for it! Hey, I said almost…
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Chapter 8Sam was searching desperately for his brother. He had been wrong – so very wrong to have doubted him. To have not believed that both of them could, and should, face anything together.
"We're stronger together." Weren't they his own words? Was he some kind of hypocrite to believe that they applied only when he thought so? I've been such an idiot.
He concentrated on his destination – Pastor Jim's - he had to get to Dean. He may not have been alive, but the least he could do was be with Dean when he needed him, find a way to have his back, watch over his brother and to offer whatever protection he could. It was the least Sam owed to the man who had spent his life protecting and raising him.
And if he were honest, he missed his brother and his snarky humour and practical jokes. He yearned to once more be a witness to Dean's intense joy and childlike enthusiasm, his confidence and sometimes surprising gentleness, his optimism and courage. Sam found he could not imagine his life, or death without him. I won't leave you again, Dean, he promised.
But it hurt it hurt so damn much. Who would have thought that without a body, you could still experience such pain? It was excruciating, but at the same time exhilarating. Exhilarating in the sense that it proved he had not yet been lost completely, but the flip side meant that it felt as though ever single molecule in his body wanted to fly apart, to break free from his hold and continue their journey.
By sheer force of will alone, he remained Sam Winchester; but he knew that he could not keep this up forever.
The young hunter knew he was barely holding his soul together. His only course of action was to purposefully withdraw from the light, for the first time actively seeking the dark that terrified him- he had to stop his soul from moving on. And though the only way to do that was to remain angry, it was a dangerous ruse he knew, for if he slipped too far, he could easily become that which they normally hunted – an angry spirit.
As Pastor Jim's came into focus, Sam gave a relieved sigh. Funny, how he still tried to breathe even if his lungs had to be at least fifty feet away from him. He flowed seamlessly through Jim's front door. Hmmm, maybe I should mention that rock salt and cats-eye shells have no effect on whatever the hell it is that I am. A spirit? If so, shouldn't they at least stop me or at least cause me some discomfort?
For the first time, Sam actually stopped to consider what had happened. So the soul doesn't appear to be the same as a spirit, he mused. Perhaps the soul is the essence of who you are, and the spirit more of your intent and memory?
The pain intensified as if discontented from his lack of motion. Dean, where's Dean? Sam cast about with his mind. He had always, without exception, been able to sense when his older brother was near. There was always that sensation of safety and belonging, of being loved and watched over.
Shit, he isn't here! For a moment, Sam panicked. The youngest Winchester knew he was losing ground to whatever was pulling at his soul. He had a feeling that passing on could not be avoided forever. No, he had to see his brother one last time. Dammit, if other spirits can stay, I sure as hell can.
He hesitated as he felt another familiar presence nearby. Dad? His father had actually come, and even though Sam knew it was only because his message had mentioned the Demon, he didn't care. He closed spectral eyes and wished for just a moment he was still 5 years old, and could crawl onto his Dad's knee and be told that everything would be ok. To rest against his father's chest, hear the strong beat of his heart, feel the warmth and safety of his father's arms hugging him. Sam felt an overwhelming need to see his father.
He entered the kitchen and was taken aback at the unexpected sight of his father's slumped shoulders and wet face. He was sitting next to Sam's corpse, holding one of Sam's hands to his face.
"I'm so sorry, Dad." Sam murmured, feeling a need to make amends even if it was too late. "I'm sorry for the time I wasted being angry, sorry for not understanding that you wanted only to protect me and Dean, to give us the means to protect ourselves, and others who can't. Please forgive me, Dad. Please. I was angry and wanted you and Dean to be safe. I didn't want to lose either of you – I just couldn't bear it. I suppose you were right all along. I'm not that strong, Dad. I need you; I need Dean. I love you both."
John looked down at his youngest's cold form. "Dean and I know what happened, we're gonna put this right. But you have to keep fighting and wait for us, Sammy.
John snorted softly at his words, and gently brushed Sam's hair from his face as he continued. "I know waiting was never your strong suit; you always wanted to see the wonders that were out there, not just the nightmares. But Sammy, those wonders can wait for you, son, there's plenty of time for those later. For when we can explore them together, as a family. Besides, Dean would be so pissed if you got first dibs on those Angels, and you know how that brother of yours can pout. Just like your Mom." His father smiled sadly.
Sam reached out and brushed his hand across his father's cheek in wonder at the tears he could see falling. He would never in a million years have thought the ex-Marine would cry for anyone, save Mary and Dean. Let alone his accursed son.
John felt something warm and gentle touch his face.
"Sammy?" He whispered hopefully. Was he actually here? Maybe his stubborn son had escaped the Demon.
But Sam's eyes had caught sight of something beside his body – the Colt.
"Dad – why do you have the Colt here?" John's face did not even flicker in acknowledgement to the question. It was obvious that although his father had felt his hand touch his face, he still could not hear him.
If his father had brought the Colt for the Demon, why was it next to Sam's body?
With sudden and devastating clarity, Sam Winchester understood – it was for him.
"Dad?" He backed away, disbelief and betrayal filtering across his face, his eyes wounded. Utensils on the bench began to rattle and dance unevenly across the work surfaces before falling to the floor, and the kitchen cupboard doors began to shake and bang. The windows frosted as energy that Sam could ill afford to lose was released in his anger.
"Why, Dad?" Both pairs of eyes traced the path of the Colt as it skittered away across the floor, and Sam's whisper soft tones seeped unheard through the suddenly frigid air.
The chairs that had been carefully stacked to one side to allow Dean to tend to his brother now shot across the kitchen, smashing against the cupboards and the walls, the legs breaking and the backs splintering with the force. Glasses that had been stacked on the draining board froze and shattered as the temperature continued to plummet.
"WHY?" And although John could still not hear his son's broken words, the almighty John Winchester realised that this time he may have screwed up spectacularly.
"Sam? Sam! You have to understand. We're trying to free you, to bring you back." At that moment he did not care if the Demon was here with Sam or not, or if this was something else, but he couldn't take the chance. If this was his son, he had to make him comprehend the danger.
"Free me, how? By releasing me in death? You just can't wait to get shot of me for good, can you?" Sam railed against the desolation caused by his father's actions, the wintry temperature of the room mirroring the glacial core settling in his soul. Ice began to form on the work surfaces and it was becoming painful for John to breathe in the frigid air.
This couldn't be his son, the power needed to cause these physical manifestations – this had to be the demon. He bent to fumble for the Colt.
"Sam, if you can hear me, the Demon, it's here. Look at what's happening!"
Sam was tiring quickly, he knew what was happening was dangerous to him but as he saw his father reach towards the gun, he lost the last of his emotional self-discipline.
"Dad, no, please- it's me, it's only me!" He reached out and losing his balance as dizziness overwhelmed him, he fell through his father.
John flinched at the strange sensation, but instead of the raging cold that had swept across the room; he felt only the warmth of Sam's soul, his anguish and pain at what he perceived his father was willing to do.
"I'm sorry Sammy; I just want to bring you back, safe."
"So you brought the Colt here as what exactly – the Winchester version of a comfort blanket? Figures." Sam muttered from floor level.
"Samuel Winchester!" John roared without thinking. "Do not take that tone with me!" Forgetting for a moment that he should be glad his son was still able to talk to him at all. He stopped once he realised he could actually hear his baby boy once more. "Sammy?" He whispered hopefully, please god, let that be my boy.
Sam scrambled back to his feet and backed away further, "What were you going to do?" He whispered.
"We're trying to get you back, son."
"Why, so you could kill me yourself? Don't lie, Dad. That's for me, isn't it?"
"No, it's for the Demon."
"Then why have it here?"
"Because he may try to merge with you if you came back, and if he did, there'd be no way to separate you, Sammy. Not like this."
Sam was shell-shocked. What was his father saying - that the Demon could tag along like some kind of parasite? He wanted to scream. "But I couldn't kill you!" But found that his tongue was somehow sticking to the roof of his non-corporeal mouth. Strange, how physical reactions could linger.
"You're going to kill me if Dean somehow pulls a rabbit out of a hat and brings me back." He whispered, the brief hope that his brother could save him dwindling. What the Demon couldn't finish, his father would? Had his father even considered any other options? Had he just sat there waiting for the Demon to attempt that – had he took no other precautions at all? Sam looked around, asides from the damaged furniture and the mess, nothing else had changed. Obviously not…
"Am I such a monster? Do you hate me so much, that you could do this? Do you want me to stay dead?" Should I stay dead?
"I could never hate you Sam, ever, you are my son - but I have to protect Dean, too."
"And would you be sitting there with the Colt if that was Dean lying there? Don't bother; we both know the answer to that one." Sam had not thought his pain could intensify further. He was wrong.
But his father had a point. If he was a danger to Dean, maybe he should stay away, not come back, even if Dean figured something out. But whatever decision he made, either to stay or go, he knew that he had to protect his brother from such an outcome – and at least his father was prepared for this.
"I'm sorry, Dad. You're right. If Dean does somehow get me back-." Sam hesitated. "And if I come back wrong, or twisted, or consumed and merged with a demon, then you shoot me, Dad. But please, you have to keep Dean away. I don't want him involved in that."
Sam retreated still further. "I'm sorry I have been such a bad son, you deserved better. I'm glad that you at least had that with Dean." And he fled.
John sat his eyes bright with tears he no longer had the strength to shed, as he felt the presence that was his son leave the room. What had he done?
A voice from behind him spoke with soft anger. "Dear God, John, what were you thinking?" Even though Jim had only heard John's side of the conversation, it was enough to realise the devastating effect it would have on the youngest Winchester.
"Jim, Jesus, Jim, what have I done?"
"You have to stop being the Marine for once in your life, John, or else you will lose both your sons." The Pastor looked at the other man sadly. "Just be thankful Dean wasn't here for that particular exchange.
Sam fled the church, his anger and pain growing. Fire roared in his chest fuelled by the feeling of betrayal, his own father was willing to kill him. How twisted was that? Even if it was the logical and right tactical decision - Sam spat the thought - still he was his son, did that not mean anything?
He had to find his brother. Please let me find, Dean, he begged, please. I'll lie down and go quietly if you let me see my brother one last time.
He almost cried with relief when he heard the familiar roar of the Impala. Dean was here. He started forward to see an extremely pissed off looking older brother stride from the driver's side of the Impala, Caleb quickly joining his side.
Thank you. The fire in Sam's soul seemed to reach an almost critical level, and light seemed to be flowing at him from every direction. No, not yet. A smile graced the expressive face of the youngest Winchester when he noticed something, and he shot forwards towards his brother, like an eagle soaring towards home.
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A/N…So apologies again in order – I am so sorry that this has taken so long, but I found the scene with John incredibly hard to write. I hope I have not let anyone down. I'm still not happy with the scene but couldn't keep it in limbo forever…a lot like Sam really lol!
Next Chapter is written and beta'd so no long delay for that one, I promise! And a solution of a sort is presented!
Please let me know your thoughts…no flamers though please. I am writing this for my enjoyment, if you don't like it, don't read it. (Sorry had a review on another story that knocked my confidence a little.) Constructive criticism is welcome as always, I am here to improve after all!
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far – it has meant the world to me, really!
Dream