I also thought it might be good to say what songs I've been naming these chapters after, so I don't get like sued or something so here it goes:
CHAPTER 2/3: Devil in the Details – Bright Eyes
CHAPTER 4 : I Believe in Symmetry – Bright Eyes
CHAPTER 5/6 : Sunrise, Sunset – Bright Eyes
CHAPTER 7 : Inspired by: Waste of Paint – Bright Eyes
CHAPTER 8/9 : Vindicated – Dashboard Confessional
CHAPTER 10/11: The Car in 20 – The Early November
CHAPTER 12 : Prelude 12/21 – A.F.I.
CHAPTER 13/14/: The Best of You – Foo Fighters
Yeah there mostly Bright Eyes hehe.
Ok? Wow that was a long a/n but I dunno this chapter took a while I thought maybe I'd say more. I also am going to from this point on reply to every single one of my reviews. I realized it basically needs to be done because I'm always happy to get a review reply so I know the author even cares. The reviews have always meant soo much to me, but now I'm just gonna start showing it. Anyways please enjoy : )
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NAME
-SAM'S POV-
'On a string, I was held.
The way I move, can you tell?
My actions are orchestrated from above.
So I swing and I sway.
Wave my hand, kick my leg,
And it is always right with the music.'
-False Advertising – Bright Eyes
Hello. My name is Sam.
My name is Sam. That'll be the only thing most people will ever know about me.
Sam, the useless piece of information I tell people first. And now that I think about it, why do we just tell people our names? Why is that the first thing people want to know?
Why not: Hello. My name is suicidal, or Hello. My name is I might just kill you in less than a day.
How about: Hello. I can't really talk right now because you see; I might just go deadly on you. I might just have lost count and actually be changing right now.
Names are nothing. They're garbage. It's like, names represent nothing about us. We didn't choose them. They're just what our parents decided would fit an unborn child, a child they have never met.
Your name is Sam. Probably short for Samuel. Named after god knows (or Sam knows) who. Maybe a relative. And I guess that's all I need to know about you right now. It wouldn't be important to know you're a ticking time bomb. Who cares if you've got an expiration date? Why does it matter to me?
Hello. My name is happy. My name is joyful.
Here I am, fighting with my brother, holding back tears every time his voice shakes the motel room. I take glances around every so often and realize most of the destruction we've caused is still there. No mask could hide half of the things we've done to this poor room.
By the way, in case you haven't noticed I've been in here for five days. Haven't left once.
But anyway, every time Dean yells, all I want to do is give in. His voice is so persuasive; his pleas for me to not give up on him are hitting my heart dead on. It all makes perfect sense and yet still, I need him to just let me know he's going to take care of what needs to be taken care of if I can't control myself. I'm so scared. I'm so fucking scared but I can ever let him know that.
I eventually give in. Try to let it go. I know Dean wouldn't let me kill anyone. I know he wouldn't let me kill him and then when I'm done go on to hurt more people. Dean's my brother. He knows. He just has to know.
I turn my head on my brother and towards slumber. I see rest in my sight and the idea alone is too much for me to resist. Maybe I can just let this argument fall away. Then we won't have to think about it until I wake up. Then, just maybe, it'll all have calmed down
"You shouldn't trust me then, Sam. Because I'm not gonna do it. If you want it so bad, do it yourself."
Hello. My name is Sam and I don't know what you think I should say.
Tell me. What is the correct response to that statement? Tell me. Tell me, Dean. What am I supposed to do now?
Soft tears form on my pillow-buried face. Water. Salt. Things I use to kill, now mixed together and threatening to kill me as well. These are tears. I wonder if I could die from them. I wonder if I could do as I'm told with these small, insignificant droplets of water. Tell me. Tell me the answer, Dean.
I start to roll over; mostly just to see what Dean's done to himself, but as I'm about to look at him I find I can't. I try and move my eyes towards him with pure will power, but they're glued to the carpet with tears. They're glued with pain.
My head is nodding. My hands are trembling. I'm don't even need to do it myself, I'm dying already.
I've lost all control and given into my body. Given in to what it wants. What it thinks.
My body is rolling back over to the bed and I'm sure I'm close to sleep when I hear this pitiful sob erupt from somewhere. My body shakes and I try to figure out who is making that awful noise before realizing it's me. With each horrible noise I try and stop it. I try and stop myself from hurting Dean, but these sobs are much more powerful than me.
When the sobbing dies down I figure out that my body is just shaking and practically choking on the damage I've done to myself. Now, I think of my big brother.
I think of how he must be feeling. I think about the pain. I hear the pathetic, 'No I didn't….' I know. Am I selfish to act like I didn't? Am I a horrible person to use his sudden loss of composer to end my own life? What the hell is so wrong with trying to save someone? Huh? Why does it have to be so damn hard?
My body, sometimes called Sam, shakes more and before I'm able to sleep my mind races.
Dean said it. Dean said it: it's true. One thing I've learned: Dean's always right, Dean has to know what he's talking about. I trust my brother, I told him myself.
'You shouldn't trust me then…'Don't worry, body. That part wasn't true. Only the last part. Only that.
'Do it yourself.'
Do it yourself, body. Just fucking do it.
Part of me just wants to go now but somewhere else my body is screaming no. No, body! Take these last few hours. Just sleep, body. Just sleep one last time. Dream one more time. Wake one more time.
Look at him one more time, body. Look at the person who's just a plain old hero.
And while you dream, body. Live in it and take it. Take what's yours, take that last ounce of life and taste it before you're gone.
Taste it before you're ashes.
Rest to prepare yourself to rest forever.
My eyelids are heavier I think, and my body is taking over. More powerful than me. More powerful than sobs. I'm held hostage by a meat suit. A big bag of water.
My body sleeps for hours. It dreams about closure and joy. It dreams it's last dream, probably. And my body's smart you see. It knows it.
Didn't even have to let it know.
My body wakes to find a scene much like the once it fell away to. Dean's still awake I bet. He's still watching. He's still dying, just like me.
Those eyes that supposedly belong to me switch over to the analog clock as if on autopilot. That's it! I'm on autopilot. I've lost control of this body. It just moves and does. It makes its choices with artificial intelligence.
The clock says a morning time. It says a time I know is a half an hour away from transformation. Thirty minutes south of monster.
My body is envisioning a finger around a trigger and a gun to its head. It's its finger I guess. Actually, I know.
My body is sitting its self up and looking around in awe, in awe of life. In awe of what it is dying to end. I hear faint words leaving my brothers mouth but much louder I hear my body's decisions. Go to the bathroom. Wash face. Look in the mirror. Think.
So it does its plan. Ignoring Dean's begs.
The watch on its wrists says twenty-five minutes till the end and as my body's eyes look into the mirror I see it smiling. That bastard of a body! Smiling! Smiling in a time like this!
It wastes more time pacing the room. Staring blankly ahead, while choosing to ignore things like "Please, Sam." And "Don't shut me out, I'm so sorry." And of course the all too famous, "I didn't mean it. I didn't."
The clock is ticking away and isn't it funny how I'm counting minutes now? First days. Then hours. Now minutes. Seconds? Doubt I'll count those.
Now I guess my body is realizing that I've got ten minutes left. Ten minutes to get going and pull that trigger. But its plan isn't working out. Its procrastination is working against it.
Pretty soon it's close to done and all it can do is switch on the autopilot take a breath and walk towards Dean.
Move forward. No. Left. Then stop. Pause. Breathe.
No Dean, I'm fine. Don't touch. Fine.
I'm standing. Perfectly placed between the TV and the bed. Dead center. And Dean, you're standing directly in front of me, between the red wall and the yellow wall.
And you know what you're separating me from? The door.
My exit, my escape, my way out. Why do I want to leave? Almost forgot, but now it's coming back to me. I'm saving you. But I see your trust in me is petering away, and that's the one thing I need right now. Dean, I need you to trust me. I need you to trust that I'm doing this for you. I need you to trust that I'm saving you.
I'm saving you from myself. This. This hunk of ticking time bomb. I'm at one minute. Maybe less, but definitely not more. I'm ticking to a stop and when I reach zero I'm going to do something I'll regret. I don't want to regret, I have enough to regret.
00:50
You're saying 'No'. I hate that word it means wrong, it means mistake, it means hurt. Well, at least most times, now I feel like it means savior.
00:40
You want to save me, just like I want to save you. You want to help me… Thanks… I'm good. I got this thing called autop… I'll stay here where you can't touch me. Because if you can't touch me, then I can't touch you. And if I can't touch you then I can't hurt you… Unless… No? Good. I left that thing over there. Yeah, I can't hurt you from here.
I step. You step too. You won't let me pass. But I won't let you get hurt, I won't let you d…
00:30
My exit is getting dragged out too long. Thirty more second and I swear I'm adding another thing to my list of failures. Another excuse for you to save me, and yourself. And can't I save you for once? I never told you, but that's all I want to do right now. All I really want to do is save you.
Why? You want to know why I'm running out of this room? You want to know why my head is hanging low and I can't look at you in the eyes? Is that what you want to know? Want to know why I'm swaying and feeling dizzy? I know why but I won't tell you. I know why but I won-
00:20
Easy. This should be easy. I should have sneaked out; I shouldn't have 'scared you'. That's what you said I'm doing; you said I'm 'scaring you'. I'm scaring myself Dean, hence why I want out now. I want to be where I'm only scaring myself. Not anyone else.
00:10
Dean, don't you understand? I need you to move; I need to get away from you! I want to push past you but that would involve… Never mind… And this goddamn thing won't work. I was supposed to just turn it to on and walk out without emotion. Without giving you a clue something was wrong. Stupid auto…
Didn't I say I just needed to go? Didn't I say nothing was wrong? Didn't I ask why I was scaring you and didn't I assure you there was nothing to be scared of? Trust me Dean, I'm doing this for you! The apprehension alone is killing me; just wait until these seconds are over.
00:05
I should have known. I should have left while you were in the bathroom. I should have left while you were sleeping. I should have left when-
I've been living in a world of denial for too long. I knew that this instant was coming today. I knew it was coming during this hour. I knew it was coming at this instant, and still I did nothing.
Dean, you have to move, you have to or else-
I'm taking this into my own hands. I'm running towards the door. Say 'I'm sick of this nonsense.' When you Dean, you make the most sense.
But you catch me. And that's when I feel it. I can feel it. I feel it the instant that my wrist is in your fist and my chest is resting on your open hand.
00:01
I feel my priorities change. This thing was supposed to work! Let go Dean! Let- Oh god Dean-
00:00
It failed. My body failed.
And it took me until now to realize this one simple fact.
It never was my body, it never was my choice. It was a place I thought my soul could handle but I was proved wrong.
My body finally figured out what was best for that thing inhabiting it. That thing that called himself Sam, a human.
And me? I'm figuring out that it couldn't have been me. It wasn't me that did all those awful things. It wasn't me who ignored my brother, who let myself turn. It wasn't me who procrastinated. Who became an it. A thing we hunt.
And by the way: Goodbye.
Goodbye. My name was Sam.
But then again, I know now.
I was never Sam at all.
'And I know what must change,
Fuck my face. Fuck my name,
They are brief and false advertisements…'
-False Advertising – Bright Eyes
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A/N: If anyone got it I would love to hear what they think : ))))) I really hope you liked that chapter. I will be updating soon because I figured out where this story is (yay!) and I'm really excited about it! So keep reading and reviewing (please?)
Mucho amor,
Lilia