Fell on Black Days—Chapter Five

It had been hours since Sam had shut himself in the bedroom. Dean couldn't imagine what it would be like to be told hunting was out. It was their life, even if Sam didn't always want it to be.

"Do you think you could chew a little louder?" Dean said, raising a brow.

Garth smiled. "Maybe."

Dean shook his head. "Do you think he's okay in there?"

Garth shrugged. "This no hunting thing, it's a lot to take in." Garth took a bite of his sandwich. "He probably just needs some time to think it over."

Suddenly the sounds of M.C. Hammer's Hammer Time came from one Garth's coat pockets.

Garth ran over to his coat and began to dig through it, checking phones as he pulled them out. Finally he got the one he wanted and he held it out triumphantly, sandwich still held in his other hand.

"Garth speaking," he said into the phone, chewing around the words.

Dean stood up and walked over to him. "Who is it?"

Garth waved him off. "Yep, uh huh. No, I'll check it out." Garth hung up the phone and stuck it back in his coat.

Dean looked at him quizzically. "Who was that? And what are you going to check out?"

"Mackey. He's tracked down a lead on a rugaru in the area. He got his hands full with a vamp nest at the moment, so he needs someone to take a look."

"You can't go up against a rugaru alone."

Garth shrugged. "There's no other way, Dean. Someone's got to do it."

"He's right." Sam's voice came from behind them. "We can't just look the other way while a rugaru is on the prowl."

"Sam," Dean said. "Whatever you're thinking, it's a no."

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "I know I can't hunt. I get that. But that doesn't mean you can't."

"You want me to leave you here alone?" Dean said slowly.

"Yeah. Why not? I can get around just fine now."

"Sam …" Dean sighed. "What if something happens?"

"Like what? I'll be fine, Dean. Don't worry about me."

Within an hour, they were all packed and ready to go. Dean was just about to get into the Impala when Sam stopped him. Dean couldn't help but notice how different Sam looked; his face was drawn like he was in pain.

"What's up? You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just … I want to say I'm sorry, Dean. For everything. I never meant to cause you, cause everyone, so much pain."

"What are you talking about?" Dean's brow furrowed.

Sam shook his head. "Just don't worry about it, okay? It's just something I needed to say, something I needed to know you heard." He reached out and patted Dean's shoulder. "You better get going before dark."

Dean shook his head. "Sometimes I don't get you. You know that right?"

Sam smiled sadly. "Yeah, I know."

Dean got in the Impala and rolled down the window. "You sure you're going to be okay?"

Sam nodded. "Goodbye, Dean."

Sam walked slowly into the house. His thoughts were louder than he have would liked. His mind was pulling in two directions. Part of him, his instincts, begged him to stop, but the rational side of him knew he couldn't. This needed to happen to set Dean free. This was the final and most important decision he would ever make. He had to get it right.

He made his way to the bedroom and found his duffel that was lying on the floor beside the bed. He knew his gun was in it. He wasn't sure whether it was terror or anticipation but his hands began to shake.

As he got closer to the gun, he settled on terror. He was afraid. He could admit that. No matter how brave he could be, this was more frightening to face than any monster. He was facing himself. His own fears and giving up his life for another, for Dean. This was the end.

Dean reached over and turned off the radio.

He thought back Sam's apology, and it hurt him. He hated to think that Sam felt like he needed to apologize for anything. Sam may have made a few mistakes in the past, but they both had made their fair share. Dean knew he was as much to blame for the things that had happened as Sam. If Dean had been a better brother, Sam would have been able to come to him and wouldn't have felt like he had to hide.

"You okay?" Garth asked him.

"You ever have the feeling that something just isn't right?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's just Sam. Something didn't seem right with him."

"He's seemed all right when he said goodbye."

Dean glanced over at Garth. That was it. Sam had said goodbye. Not like he normally would. More like he wasn't planning on seeing him again.

Dean hit the brakes and spun the car around. They needed to get back to Sam, and they needed to do it fast.

Sam swallowed hard as he held the weight of the gun in his hand. It seemed heavier than it ever had before. He hadn't put much thought into the where, and now that the time was so close, he needed to decide. He thought about the bedroom, simply sitting on the bed and pulling the trigger, but that was messy. No, he couldn't do that to Dean. Maybe the bathroom would be better, the shower. There the blood would just wash away.

It was decided then. Taking the gun he walked into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. It would all be over soon.

The car came to a grinding halt in front of the cabin and Dean went flying from the car.

"Dean?" Garth called behind him, but Dean didn't stop to answer. He had a horrible feeling in his gut that he knew what Sam was planning, and he had to get there to stop him.

Dean charged into the cabin. "Sammy!"

The barrel of the gun was cold as it pressed against Sam's temple. It would only take one movement, one twitch of a finger, and it would all be over. His trail of pain would end.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice came from what sounded like down the hall. It made Sam nearly drop the gun. Dean wasn't meant to be there. He was meant to be with Garth, miles away by now. "Sam! Where are you?"

Tears began to roll down Sam's cheeks. This wasn't supposed to end like this. Not with Dean.

He could hear the footsteps growing closer and he knew that it was now or never. He pressed the cold metal of the muzzle to his temple. The shakes from before were back, and he had to struggle to keep it in place.

There was a knock at the bathroom door and Sam was thankful that he had locked it. It would buy him the few extra seconds he needed. He closed his eyes and took a breath. His finger twitched on the trigger just as the door splintered open.

For one brief moment there was silence. The tension so thick it drowned out all else. And then it happened. A single bullet left the barrel, cutting the tension in the room in the worst possible way.

Sam fell back, Dean ran forward, and the gun clattered to the floor.