A/N: This week is killing me. I'm not even joking. This was also supposed to be a Thorn chapter, but apparently Ash has issues that needed to be worked through. *rolls eyes*
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Advent - December 12th
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It's later when Sam raises his head from Ash's shoulder.
He isn't sure what time it is, or how long he's been standing there, because there isn't any windows and he can't find the energy to raise his arm to look at his watch.
It's late though. Sam can tell because his eyes are killing him and his head's all woolly. It's the same type of reaction he normally gets after too much fighting and not enough sleep. Usually he and Dean would be on the road by now, the Impala's engine purring beneath the hood as it ate up the miles between hunt and home.
Or it could be really early instead, seeing as how they'd been working at night thanks to Dean's new fatal reaction to sunlight...
Sam's throat closes at the thought of Dean hurt, and he presses his face against Ash's shoulder again. Ash's collarbone pushing against his eyes, stopping the tears.
Or maybe it isn't that late at all and Sam is just tired because of…well, because of everything. He thinks that he has the right to be tired. To be exhausted after what's just happened.
Sam clutches Ash's t-shirt tighter, feeling the warm cotton between his fingers covering the solid strength of Ash's back.
The shirt by his face is wet, and Sam thinks that maybe he should be ashamed that he's just cried his heart out on his friends shoulder. But he's feeling very detached at the moment. Like he's floating and there's nothing to tether him.
It's almost the same feeling he gets when he's wounded and loses too much blood. But he's not hurt.
Not physically, at least.
And he quite likes this floaty feeling. It makes it harder to think about stuff, or care when he knows he should be caring…
It's a welcome relief.
As long as he doesn't think about…
About Dean.
Distantly, he can feel his breathing picking up. He's also trembling, or at least he thinks he is. It's hard to tell because suddenly his brain doesn't really want to work all that much.
Ash smooth's his hand down Sam's back, straight down his spine, and it brings Sam out of it for a few moments. Sam relaxes into it, feeling his muscles uncoil one by one until it's hard to keep his knees from buckling.
He sags in Ash's arms.
Belatedly, he worries that he's too heavy. That Ash won't be able to keep him standing. But Ash is a lot stronger than he's given the guy credit for, as he takes Sam's weight like it's nothing.
Sam lets out a huff of breath and closes his eyes. Grateful to Ash for being here. For providing a distraction so he doesn't have to think…
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Sam wakes who knows how long later. It could be minutes or hours because the room hasn't changed.
Well, the light in the room hasn't changed. Sam's pretty sure the room didn't have a double bed in it before.
He's not alone on it either. Ash is right next to him. He's staring up at the ceiling and looking like he's lost in his own world. Or trapped in his own memories.
They look painful.
Sam doesn't know what it's all about or why Ash is lying still and allowing Sam to cling to him like an octopus in his sleep. But Sam does know about painful memories and regret.
He also knows how much it helps to be brought out of them by a friendly face.
Or, at least if not friendly, than familiar.
Sam hopes that Ash will see him as a friendly face though. Something hurts in his gut at the thought of Ash not really caring.
Even if that is patently ridiculous after everything that's happened since the deal with Lilith got postponed.
Sam gently tries to untangle himself. It's hard going seeing as how he's somehow plastered himself against Ash and tangled the sheets around them until they're practically cocooned. Sam's also managed to sneak his arm under Ash's pillow.
Man, it hasn't been this awkward since the first time he slept with Jess. Luckily she thought it was cute that he cuddled in his sleep.
Sam had been mortified. He'd been fresh off the hunting life, having only left two months previously. He was supposed to be gruff and manly and not a closet, unconscious snuggler.
Any chance he has of waking Ash carefully gets shot to hell when he tries to extract his arm from underneath Ash's head.
Ash jerks and turns to face Sam, his eyes wild. Sam also notices that their fingers are laced together when Ash squeezes hard enough that Sam feels his bones creak.
He manfully withholds his wince as he knows Ash didn't mean to hurt him. Probably doesn't even have a clue he did in the first place.
Plus, he knows how bad Ash feels when something goes bad on his account. Sam isn't going to add to whatever Ash is feeling right now because his hand got squeezed too tight when he startled his friend.
Sam doesn't move and slowly Ash calms down, his grip loosening and his breathing slowing. The wild look in his eyes dims until they're just staring into each other's eyes. Waiting for the other to make a move.
It's not going to be Sam though. He's too mesmerised by Ash's eyes. Swirling silver. They look like moonlight on a sawn off shotgun. He's never seen anything like them.
Or anything so beautiful.
Without thinking Sam reaches forward and strokes Ash's cheekbone, right under his left eye.
Ash flinches like he's just been punched in the face and turns to stare at the ceiling. A pair of sunglasses manifest on his face.
"I'm sorry," Ash croaks.
Sam frowns and doesn't say anything. He's trying to work out why Ash is sorry.
If anything, it should be Sam who's sorry. Seeing as how he just broke down on Ash, then fell asleep on his shoulder. Then cuddled him in said sleep for who knows how long.
Yeah, Sam has a lot he needs to apologise for.
Ash must take his silence for something else, other than complete and utter confusion, because he turns back to Sam and his face is twisted with grief.
"I'm sorry, Sam. I really, really am." Ash's voice breaks at the end and Sam feels his heart break just that little bit more. He didn't even know it could after Dean. But seeing Ash in pain over something Sam just isn't getting hits him hard.
Sam feels like he's failing Ash for not understanding.
It's really hard to judge what Ash is thinking though, when Sam can't see his eyes and take clues. So Sam reaches forward and then hesitates when Ash stills.
Slowly, so Ash has more than enough time to pull away if this is really bothering him, Sam slips the sunglasses off Ash's face.
Ash is staring at him with hunted eyes.
Sam doesn't pay attention. He's too busy showing Ash that he doesn't care about…whatever was supposed to have made him care.
He folds up the sunglasses and twists, dropping them on the bed behind him. Then he turns back to Ash.
"So," Sam says, and then has to clear his throat because even he didn't understand what he just said.
"So," Sam says again, and this time it comes out more human, rather than grief worn. "What are you sorry about?"
Ash blinks.
"For…Dean."
Sam winces. Hearing Dean's name spoken by someone else hits him hard in the chest and he's unprepared at the feeling of having a hole ripped through him.
He curls up, but seeing as Ash is still lying on his arm, he ends up curling around Ash instead.
Ash tenses even more, if that was possible, and stops breathing for a short while.
It's worrying and it gives Sam something else to focus on rather than the feeling of half of him being missing.
"What…what about-" Sam's throat closes before he can say Dean's name.
Ash's face crumples. "It's all my fault." He whispers, "Just like before."
And okay, yeah. Sam's gone through a lot. A fucking lot in the last how many hours, days, weeks, months, years. But this?
Nope, he doesn't understand this.
"It's…your fault?" He asks, his confusion overruling his grief for the moment. He says it slowly, like it'll give it more time to make sense if he does.
It doesn't.
"I…I brought this on him." Ash admits.
Sam's lips thin. Then he says, "Yeah, still not getting it. Sorry. How?"
Ash flinches and turns away. Or at least he tries to because Sam brings his face back around until he can see what's flashing in his friends eyes. Dear gods, he needs cue cards for this conversation.
Ash doesn't resist. And when he's facing Sam again he tilts his chin, like he's preparing for a blow. Like he expects Sam to hit him or attack him or something.
Sam doesn't want to hit Ash. But he's thinking about maybe hitting the persons responsible for Ash expecting it.
Because Ash does expect it. Sam can see it in the way he tenses his muscles. Sam can also see that Ash is used to it. Used to abuse.
But Ash is facing him. Waiting for Sam to blow up at him.
"There's…there's something I've been…"
Sam waits patiently, allowing Ash to gather his thoughts. It's taking a while so Sam thinks that this revelation must be something big. Something huge that's making Ash blame himself for all this.
"I am the final fate."
Sam blinks and waits for Ash to continue. After a moment, Ash realises that he has to.
"I-" he says, "whatever I say comes true. I speak prophesy, Sam."
Sam can feel his face twisting in disbelief. But not in doubt over what Ash is telling him, that he can believe after everything. It's more a disbelief that Ash believes that because what he says comes true, that Ash is responsible for all this.
"I…" Sam says, and then doesn't know how to continue.
This is self-deprecation even he can't believe.
Ash must think Sam's blaming him though, as he tries to move away.
Sam stops that very quickly. Ash is like Dean, and Sam knows that if he lets Ash walk away from this then Ash is going to squirrel it away somewhere until he's just a ticking time bomb of angst and grief.
This is why it's healthier to talk about problems!
"I still don't get why it's your fault though." Sam says.
Ash opens and closes his mouth a few times. Then says "I said that his past would catch up with him." Like it's supposed to make sense to Sam.
"You…" Sam says after it becomes clear that this is the crux of the matter, "you think that that makes it your fault?"
"Sam," Ash takes a deep breath, "it is my fault."
"Um…no?"
Ash blinks and then looks at Sam like Sam's crazy.
Sam thinks its all par for course because Sam thinks Ash is pretty crazy too.
"What do you mean, no?" Ash asks.
"No, it's not your fault."
"Of course it is!" Ash says. And if Sam wasn't thinking anything else it would be how much Ash seems to want it to be his fault. But he is, and that's how Ash is wearing an expression that's so confused between grief and frustration and hope that it's making Sam's head hurt.
"Um. No." Sam says again because he thinks he's just going to have to repeat the same thing over and over again until it lodges in Ash's brain.
Geez, Ash and Dean are more alike than ever in moments like these.
"Did you not-" Ash starts, "did you not just hear what I said? That I speak prophesy? Then I said…"
Okay, the weirdness of this conversation has taken over any other feeling that Sam's having right now.
"Ash," Sam says slowly, "you said his past would come back to get him."
"Exactly!" Ash says, sounding frustrated that Sam isn't blaming him or something. Sam doesn't even know anymore. It's like he's walked through a mirror.
"But that could mean anything." Sam points out. "Seriously," he interrupts Ash when Ash opens his mouth, "it could have meant anything. Not just this. That was a pretty vague statement."
"But-"
"Er…no." Sam's back to repeating the obvious. He wonders how many times he's going to have to do this with Ash. Sometimes it takes seven or eight repetitions with-
"But it wouldn't ha-" Ash says, saving Sam from finishing the thought.
"I'm pretty sure it would have." Sam counters.
"But-"
"Oh my God," Sam says eventually in frustration, "why are you trying to steal all the blame for Dean's-" he flinches.
Ash stills, then he offers an awkward "sorry."
"Because, seriously? That prophesy could have been talking about the bean taco Dean ate the night before. You do not want to know how bad that could have come back to haunt Dean. Don't think that it hasn't happened before. I don't even know why he still eats that and thinks it's a meal. It isn't.
"Anyway," Sam says, "If I remember correctly you said that it'd come back to haunt him and he'd regret teasing me. Which would still apply to the taco scenario, seen as I'd've hidden all the toilet paper."
Ash snorts, then looks horrified. Sam grins at his reaction, something lightening in his chest that he's managed to make Ash smile a little.
Well, maybe not smile because Ash is, again, like Dean in that way regarding emotions and feelings. And Sam's had a lot of experience getting emotionally stunted people to open up.
It's almost relaxing now.
"Now do you understand?" Sam asks softly.
Ash blinks a few times. And there's something in his eyes. Something Sam can't work out right now because he doesn't have all the pieces. But Ash seems more relaxed. Like someone's just given him the first hug of his life and he'd never knew what he'd been missing.
"Yeah." He says quietly, and Sam notices that his eyes are brighter.
Sam rolls his eyes at the admission and the amount of time and energy he's had to put into getting someone to accept the obvious. Not that he's never had to do that before.
Yes, he's still hurting and Dean's gone but Ash just derailed any major shock and grief that he was in. He's not even sure Ash did it on purpose either. Now he's in hunter mode.
Time to sort this mess out.
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Apparently Ash gets embarrassed pretty easily because, after Sam had managed to convince him that the world's problems don't solely rest on his shoulders, he'd scrambled up off the bed like it was on fire.
Sam followed because he'd felt pretty stupid lying on his back while Ash was standing above him.
Then Ash vanished the bed, and that kind of thing was just intriguing to Sam, but he can't get distracted.
Which leads to now. Sam is pacing, trying to sneakily rub the feeling back into his arm, and Ash is watching him pace.
"So," Sam says, "what you're saying is that you can't go and get Dean's soul."
"No." Ash says. And yeah, it's the third time they've gone through this conversation but Sam needs to make sure.
"Because you can't."
Ash looks pained. "I would if I could-"
"But it's not your pantheon and I still can't believe you didn't tell me you were a god!" Sam interrupts, then holds his hands up, "No, wait, yes I can."
"I wanted-"
"No, you didn't." Sam says and rolls his eyes. "You didn't want to expose yourself."
There's a silence and Sam belatedly realises that he's maybe been a bit too harsh. He turns to see that Ash is wearing his aloof face and sighs.
"Ash," he says calmly, "you don't need to lie to me because you feel bad. You had your reasons, and I can understand that.
"You also don't have to explain everything about yourself to me because we're friends." He pauses, "At least…I think we're friends. I consider us friends."
Ash doesn't say anything, but Sam does see him relaxing somewhat, so he chalks that up to a win.
"Okay," Sam says, getting back to the matter at hand, "So, you can't go get him. And I can't go get him. So we'll need someone else to go get him."
Sam stops pacing and rubs his arm harder. The feelings back in it now but he needs something to do so he can concentrate.
"Yeah," Sam says turning to Ash. "I got nothing. Know anyone?"
Ash looks shifty for a moment and Sam zeros in on the movement. Ash notices.
"Well," Ash says, "There is…but we're not…he's not…"
"Ash," Sam says slowly, "at this point I don't care if I have to deal with a demon."
Ash glances up to the ceiling. "Well," he says, "he's not a demon."
Sam blinks, "Okay, so…do you think he'd help?"
Ash makes a so-so noise in the back of his throat and Sam marvels at the level of comradery between them. It seems Sam's acceptance of Ash has opened up doors Sam didn't even know existed in their friendship.
"Maybe," Ash says, derailing Sam's thoughts, "if you were interesting enough he might consider helping. For a price."
Sam's breath whooshes out. Finally, they're making progress.
"Okay," Sam says, "okay. So, how do I contact him? Is there some sort of ritual?" he makes a face, "Do I need chicken blood? Please tell me I don't need chicken blood."
Ash's lips twitch. "Well, we could use chicken blood." He says, "Or I could just phone him."
Sam flushes. "Er, yeah. Or that."