A/N: I am so sorry O.O I was supposed to finish this story before Mamma Mia ended XD Oh well! This story is completely AU by the way XD Doesn't happen like the episode at all cuz personally IT SUCKED. I wanted much more emotion between the brothers darn it! So its happening! Lol one more chapter to go!
Warning- Minor cussing- Suicidal intention- Doesn't happen though- but still WARNING!
Enjoy ^^
Might be mistakes- grammar, misspellings- etc- will fix when I can! Thank ya!
"Hey, Dean." Sam's quiet voice drew Dean's attention from the road to the passenger seat for a second.
"Yeah Sammy?"
"So, monsters, they're real, right?" Sam asked in a low voice causing Dean to side glance curiously at him.
Dean regretted telling Sam the truth, the real reason why their father left for long periods of time, why it was they were not allowed to go out anywhere alone and was told to stay at whatever hotel they were out. Sam gave him the all to familiar puppy dog look that Dean never could resist.
Those hazel eyes filled with curiosity and trust as he looked to Dean for answers. Answers, that, in all honesty, Dean did not want to answer but he knew sooner or later the truth was going to come out and the innocence Sam still processed would be gone. Even though Dean wanted to keep the truth as far away from Sam, as long as he could, reality was sooner or later it wouldn't be enough.
So, what did Dean do?
He told Sam EVERYTHING.
Dean had caved and told him about the things lurking in the world unseen and disbelieved by those who haven't a clue about the real dangers during day and night. The things best known for bedtime stories or horror films that went by lure and old folktales. Most people believed them to be just that, stories made up to scare little kids and teens. The thought that vampires or werewolves were actually roaming creatures of the night would be unrealistic and plain insane to most.
At least, Sam was one of those people who didn't believe it a possibility that monsters were real until he asked Dean about their fathers odd routine of moving from place to place and disappearing daily. Of course, his brother was tight lipped not budgeting at Sam's continuous curiosity about John's whereabouts, being dead set that Sam remained clueless about the things going bump in the night.
Finally, after hours of constant pleading and questions, he told Sam what it was that John really did while they were left at the hotel.
Hunting.
It wasn't the normal kind but something more dangerous.
Monsters.
John hunted monsters.
The shock of reality had Sam frozen on the spot. He was still feeling its lingering effects, his mind a constant flow of thoughts trying to rationalize what he heard that maybe Dean was lying. That maybe he just wanted to scare him into thinking the boogeyman was real but the more he thought about it, the more he just knew.
It was true.
Monsters were real.
As hard as it was to believe, Sam believed it.
Dean didn't answer right away. "Yeah, they're real but, i'll let you in on a secret."
Sam gazed with curiosity at Dean's face. "What secret?"
Dean sighed. He reached up a tender hand and touched the long cut going across Sam's face. It was no longer bleeding but the skin appeared angry and raw, cheeks flushed.
Sam flinched slightly when the action stung but he didn't move away from Dean's hand.
"Monsters come in all shapes and forms. Even before there was lure of wise tails about them. The worst kind of monster, " Dean paused, "is humanity."
Sam scrunched his face up in confusion. Not to say he didn't understand his brothers words, because he knew full well that humans could be just as evil as any creature with claws and fangs, but because he would never understand why people could be so cruel. "I guess. Wow, Dean Winchester actually said something smart." Sam laughed trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah well, I can be smart to, Samantha." Dean smirked, answering back with a nickname he knew Sam despised worse than Sammy.
"Don't call me that!" Sam glared at him but he sighed when he realized Dean's body language
Sam noticed the way Dean's shoulders hunched, the invisible tension building up in his posture, and the silent fury in his emerald orbs that threatened to explode. Even though Dean was playing he could tell that his brother was masking anger the way he always did. Silent and non-approached as he avoided his feelings like they were never there but no matter how hard Dean hid it, Sam could always see the signs, could always tell when Dean was trying to control whatever volcano was threatening to erupt within him.
Dean was pissed.
Dean caught sight of the half swollen eye.
Dean narrowed his eyes, the familiar fire lighting itself a blaze inside him at seeing the damage inflicted on Sam. Sam's eye was starting to mirror the perfect purple and yellow bruise, his lip was split and small cuts were visibly seen on his neck. The thought of how they got there made his blood boil in unyielding rage. No one touched Sam and got away unscathed and the guys from upper class surely could vouch for that. They learned first hand what a pissed off Dean Winchester was capable of when you messed with Sammy. A lesson they wouldn't forget.
Dean probed the cut with gentle fingers. It was red around the edges where heat radiated from the broken skin. The sooner they got back to the hotel the quicker he could apply ointment to it and give Sam another look over.
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's mother hen routine and lightly smacked his hand away. "I'm okay Dean." He breathed out in exasperation.
"Let me be the judge of that, okay?" Dean rose a brow, his tone held no argument. "Why were those punks messing with you anyway?" He asked already knowing the reason.
The impala's engine purred loud and strong as Dean turned right.
"They wanted me to do their homework because guys like that has an I.Q of zero." Sam mumbled loud enough for Dean to hear.
Sam smirked as he remembered how mad they got when he refused to do their homework. It was something Sam was used to considering the good grades he got that easily made him a target for jocks and their bullying ways of trying to push him into doing assignments for them. He was always targeted and each time threats came with the proposal. It was either, "Do my homework or else," or, "Refuse to do what we say and you'll regret it."
Sam was never intimidated by their meaningless taunts, refusing everytime. Of course, he's had his fair share of beatings because of it, often hiding the evidence from both John and Dean unless it was in a spot clothing couldn't keep from ones sight. Namely, his face or neck. Places that Dean always saw and was usually the first to notice his black eye or swollen lip and his brother always gave the same response and expression: Anger.
Dean would demand that Sam tell him who dared touch his little brother so that he could, how Dean would put it, "Kick their ass so bad they wouldn't be able to sit down for a week."
Sam had to admit, he never hated Dean's protective nature even if it did get on his nerves from time to time. It was his brothers way of showing that he cared and would always be there for if or when he ever needed him.
That was even more clear thirty minutes ago when Sam found himself up against three large jocks, outnumbered and cornered.
The leader, Jared Fletcher, was more than a little angry because of Sam's decline to do his homework and how easily it was for him to say no. Whether it was Sam's firm stance or brave bravado as he stared the guy down with determined and unmoving eyes, it was enough to get a heated response from him.
Jared wasted no time pulling Sam by the hair, away from the sidewalk where he waited for Dean, and towards the side of the school. His buddy's trailing at his side like obedient ants ready to follow their queen.
School was out, has been for a good ten minutes and the students were long gone. The building was empty save for the handful of teachers that stayed over to grade papers and a few people that loomed around the block but even they were far away from the school. Even if Sam tried to get help he couldn't for the simple fact no one was even close enough to hear him and he would go unheard. That, however, didn't stop his show of determination and calm demeanor as he eyed them with fierce competition, his composure unwavering.
Jared grinned mischievously, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You had a choice. Do our homework, avoid a beat down or say no and get a beating of your life." He reached up and gripped Sam's chin, forcing him to only meet his fierce gaze. "All you had to do was say you'd do it."
Smirking, Sam replied, "To bad because i'm pretty sure my exact words were go to hell."
Dean would be proud at the solid conviction in his voice, that didn't shake even once or fail to show his confidence. It matched that of Dean's cockiness. A true Winchester attitude that even Sam pulled off at times.
Jared's face morphed into a snarl and he slammed Sam's head into the wall with more than a little force.
Sam grunted at the impact, almost losing his footing but managed to stay standing on strong feet. He could feel the pulsating pain vibrating through the back of his skull from the hit but fortunately it wasn't enough to make him bleed. Undoubtedly, there will be a bump visible later on for sure.
"You little shit. New kids like you need to learn your place. Well, my pals here are happy to oblige and give you a little lesson." Jared declared with enthusiasm and a smile.
Sam readied himself for the certain beating that was coming his way. He didn't flinch when one of Jared's goons gave him a right hook across the face. The punch hurt more than it should have, though and knocked Sam to the ground with a thud. The pain in his cheek stung. He felt something warm and wet start to roll down his face. It took him a few seconds to work through the wave of dizziness that hit him from the blow before he realized it was blood.
Jared crouched down in front of him. "Did that hurt? Are you okay?" Jared asked him fake concern, taunting in a mocking voice.
Sam glared at him in silence.
Jared laughed at Sam's defiance. "You've got guys, I will give you that, but, sometimes that can get you into a lot of trouble kid."
Sam was picked up by the collar of his shirt, his head protested violently with the rough handling, and he was hit again. His back hit the wall and he slid down to the ground with a moan but before he was able to catch his breath a solid kick to his abdominal had him coughing violently as the air was forced from his lungs in a single blow. He snaked his arms around his stomach and gritted his teeth at the pain running through his torso. Even his ribs ached with intensity.
He lay on his side on the filthy ground. Sam's eyes were hidden behind long locks as he panted through his nose.
"Aw. I think he's going to cry." Sam heard one of them say, though which one he wasn't sure, to focused on breathing to even care.
"Hey! Get away from my brother you son's of bitches!"
Sam could feel his body relax in relief at hearing the familiar voice coming from behind them.
Dean.
Looking up, his hair falling from his eyes, he saw the fear stricken expressions of the jocks faces, Sam long forgotten on the ground as they stared at the owner of the voice. He couldn't say he blamed him. There was fury and venom in Dean's yell that made even him tense. He didn't have to see his brothers face to know what he would see. Some would call him a feral beast bearing it's teeth in a snarl and a look of pure rage and some know it as Dean Winchester. Well Sam calls it a very over protective brother who would rip anyone apart when it came to Sam or anyone he cared about. Sucks to be on the receiving end of that.
Dean rushed over to them, something in him snapping when he took one look at his brother, who was on the ground clutching his stomach in pain. His eye already forming a bruise but it was the blood coating Sam's pale skin that sent any rational thought from Dean's mind. Dean lashed out, throwing a perfectly aimed punch at the man that was towering over Sam. His fist contacted with Jared's jaw, all Dean's anger pouring into one violent hit. He punched the boy squarely in the jaw and sent him flying backwards and onto the ground, unmoving, knocked out cold.
Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Dean easily managed to sidestep out of the path of an incoming punch and grabbed the man's extended arm. Dean twisted it behind the mans back and slammed him against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him before throwing him to the ground. Dean then twisted around in time to dodge another attack. Using his elbow, Dean slammed it into the guys chest causing him to stumble back and to Dean's advantage, using the guys moment of surprise, Dean delivered the final blow, sending him sprawling to the ground in pain.
All three jocks were squirming on the ground, one holding his now bloody broken nose. Dean's anger turned to satisfaction at their obvious dismay and he wasted no time turning and running over to Sam, who, at this point, was using the wall to stand up.
Dean grabbed Sam's arm and helped him stand. Grabbing Sam's chin, Dean forced his head up so that he could see his little brothers face and just how much damage was done. "Sammy? Sorry, I was a little late. You okay?" Using a thumb, he wiped at the blood which only proved to smear.
Sam's eye was starting to take on a nasty bruise and his face was paler than usual, forehead glistening with sweat. Dean's main concern was the cut on Sam's cheek that was slightly deep and was still pushing out blood. That would be the first thing to clean up.
"Where else are you hurt?" Dean asked checking Sam for any other injuries and recalling the way Sam hugging his mid section. "What about your ribs?"
Sam did an eye roll. "Dean. I'm fine." A grimace of pain when Dean pressed down on Sam's chest to examine his ribs said otherwise.
"Okay, so not broken at least but will definitely be sore and hurt like a bitch for a few days." Dean ignored Sam's annoyed protests. "Uh huh. You're fine."
Sam didn't say anything and allowed Dean to help him to the car.
"Well they won't bother you anymore now that they know your awesome and much cooler older brother has your back." Dean smiled cockily and smiled toothily.
"You sure it's just not your face that scares them?" Sam asked jokingly.
Dean raised a brow in disbelief. "This face? That can get any chick it wants and can melt ice cold hearts? Right. Not likely, Sammy." He inquired.
"Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam, jerk." Sam pointed with a huff.
"You'll always be Sammy, bitch." Dean reached over and ruffled Sam's, desperate in need of a haircut, shaggy hair much to Sam's annoyance, keeping in consideration of Sam's injured cheek.
Sam knocked Dean's hand away but not quick enough and his hair was in a mess and fell lazily in his face. "Dean!"
Dean's laughter filled the space in the car and he reached over and twisted the volume knob until the music came to life and AC/DC came through the speakers.
Sam mumbled, "Thanks."
Dean smiled fondly at his sibling. "Don't worry, Sam. I'll always be there."
Toni took a sip of coffee, the contents sliding down her throat soothingly warm and eased her sore throat. Her eyes remained on the monitor. She had underestimated the Winchester. Her mistake. One that she won't make a second time. Toni knew just how cunning they were having been watching them for years but she didn't know just how sneaky they could be. Nor how creative.
Toni massaged at her tender neck. The feel of fingers wrapped around her skin cutting off air was still lingering as if she could feel even now. The hand desperately trying to force her breathe from her body until she was left gasping for air or until she passed out from lack of oxygen to the brain. She could still feel Sam's hold as well as see the desperation staring at her from his pain filled eyes and yet he didn't kill her.
Sam's strategy was flawless, tricking her into really thinking he had cut his own throat as the hallucinations won over his sanity. He made her believe that he was at his wits end and that suicide was the only way out. Sam made it seem as if the glass pierced his neck when really it was a clever reuse, a false act that was good enough to be magicians trick. A plan that would have worked without fail.
So why had Sam not killed her?
Instead he simply chocked her enough to knock her unconscious or so he thought.
To her surprise, Samuel did not intend to kill her despite his various threats of doing so when he got free.
"How interesting." She stared at Sam who didn't move off the steps but remained motionless with his head rested against the wall. "So what will you do? Will you cave? Or are we going to continue this pointless routine of cat and mouse?" Toni sipped the coffee once more, her curiosity beaming as she wondered how long the game was going to last until Sam finally broke under the pressure.
He was already starting to crack. Toni could see that. With every hour that passed the drug she had slipped him continued to work its way in, forcing its way into the very darkest corners of Sam's mind. The drug had three stages. The first in which attacked the victims with hallucinations. Their memories. It twisted them into horrors, making them into what the victim most feared and replayed them in a sense of despair. Everything that they feared, whatever really destroyed them to their very core, was like a repeat of past events right before their very eyes and some memories? They were not for the faint of heart because some memories were never meant to resurface.
Toni watched as Sam was attacked by such memories. She was aware of the Winchesters past and she knew just how terrorizing Sam's memories were to the point she was sure he would be brought crumbling just by the hallucinations. So she expected but it seemed Sam wasn't that easily succumbed and put up quite the fight.
"Can you survive the next stage with your sanity in tact? Show me Sam Winchester, show me how strong willed you are. That, or break under the weight of your own mind." Toni smiled in anticipation knowing the wait will be worth the end result.
However, her smile died into a frown when the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking sounded behind her.
I'll always be there.
Always.
"Dean?" Sam croaked, his throat sore and raw from screaming, knocked out of sleep, the memory fading away but Dean's words still echoed. "Why...aren't you here now..." He wondered out loud.
He felt cold even though he was feverish and heat toppled off his forehead in rays, he felt nothing but ice cold chills wracking through his body. The wall against his head eased the burning a little but it wasn't enough to ease the hot sensation completely. As if it would matter. His head may be hot but the rest of him was freezing which was strange considering the amount of injuries he sustained thanks to the crazed British women.
Sam forced his eyes to open, squinting as though the action was too much for his lids to handle. The pain in his foot was more of a small throb now and the gun shot wound didn't register to him anymore having long grown numb.
Despite his current situation and the fact he might die, alone and in a basement that smelled like blood because of his torture, he wasn't afraid. Hell, he should have died back in cold oak. Then everything that ever happened from the point to now would never have happened. Dean would never had known what it was like to have a mother for only four years just to see her burn on a ceiling because of his little brother. Jessica never would have lost her life in the same way and would have been a scholar with a bright future. John never would have known the obsession of revenge and raised Dean as a hunter. Dean never would have made a deal and got a one way ticket to hell just to save him. Lucifer never would have been freed.
The list goes on and on.
If only he had never been born.
If he died in this shitty basement then so be it.
It was long over do.
Sam raised his head with difficulty. He was weak from blood loss and he was physically drained. The last of his strength died along with his escape attempt. He blew his last shot at getting out of there. Toni wasn't stupid and he doubted she would fall for the same trick twice. Now, if anything, she would be more cautious.
He looked at the camera. His breathing was fast and strained. "Just end it! I won't tell you anything! Just kill me because you ain't getting a damn thing from me!" He yelled with as much authority he could muster which wasn't much.
You know. That's a great idea. Why don't you just die.
Sam flinched harshly at the venomous words shot at him from the other end of the room. His eyes widened when he saw his brother standing there looking at him with hatred and disgust in his once soft emerald orbs.
"Dean..." Sam's voice cracked and he blinked several times not sure if what he was seeing was really what he was seeing. "Why...are you..."
Here? Oh that's right. I'm dead. Blown up taking amara with me. Dean smiled with pride but it somehow seemed wrong.
Sam licked his dry lips. "You're not real." He closed his eyes not wanting to see such hatred sent towards him by his brother, real or fake.
I'm very real and you little brother killed me. Happy? You're finally ridden of me to do whatever you want. Then again, you always did exactly what you wanted. In the end you leave me for college to go live your apple pie life. A normal life isn't that right, Sammy? Well look how that turned out. Dean's tone morphed into a low key, accusation and despise clearly heard like poison dripping off words mixed with betrayal.
Sam opened his eyes and fixed his wounded gaze on Dean. The hurt shone like crystals in his eyes as he stared at his brother. "No, no Dean. I didn't-"
Shut up! How many times are we going to do this, Sam? You fuck up and other people pay the price? How many times have I paid for your mistakes?! Dean yelled furiously taking a violent step towards Sam.
Sam's eyes grew wider as Dean spilled his angry words, spitting them out like a bad taste on his mouth and throwing them straight at him. He tensed as Dean took a step toward him but it wasn't because he was afraid of what Dean might do. No, it was because his brothers words were true. Sam has messed up so many times and innocent people paid the price for his wrong decisions.
His mistakes were an ugly reality of death and destruction. Nothing good ever came from his choices and Dean? Dean died for him, sold his soul that Sam could live and how did Sam repay him? By going off the deep end and trusting a demon. A demon that used him and came to him when he was at his lowest, when he was most pathetic. Right after Dean's death. Instead of trusting his hunter instincts and sending the demon back to hell he allowed her to persuade him into using powers he didn't know he processed even though he knew it was wrong.
At the time he didn't care. Dean was dead and he was alone. He thought that the curse he was given could be used for something good but you don't play with fire and not expect not to be burned. He thought, by exorcizing demons in a way that didn't kill the victim, that he would save more lives and in a way he had but it also turned him into something far worse than any monster.
If I didn't know you, I'd want to hunt you.
Dean's words pierced Sam's heart like a bullet and did more damage than any wound could. He never imagined Dean would ever say something like that to him and to hear that Dean would hunt him undid Sam in a way that could not be explained and the worst part was that Sam knew Dean was right.
Listen, you blood sucking freak. Dad said I either had to save you or kill you. Well im done saving you. The Sam I know is gone. You're a monster.
Sam was a monster.
Sam let out a sob. "I'm so sorry Dean."
Dean nodded, his eyes going to the floor. His lips pushed out then curled inward. He then shook his head. You're sorry? He asked in disbelief.
Sam looked away ashamed but looked back in time to see Dean picking up a piece of glass that lay abandoned on the floor. Its edges glinted when the light touched it showing off the dried substance of red covering it in splatters of sickening scarlet.
The same glass he used before.
Sam eyes it in confusion and watching as Dean stared at it.
If you are really sorry than you'll do what you should have done years ago. Before Lucifer. Before Yellow eyes. Before I ever made the stupid decision of making that deal for you. Dean stated with regret, his tone emotionless making Sam flinch. Do it Sam. It's your only redemption. Dean threw the glass in on the floor in front of him, wanting Sam to come and pick it up.
Something in Sam snapped. A chord in his mind split in two and his mind shut down. Sorrow and despair collided within him as he stood on shaky legs. His rationality was replaced with a sense of hopelessness and distress at Dean's heartless words.
He moved slowly towards his brother who remained still and calm. Sam's eyes never leaving the sharp glass gleaming from the floor.
Do it.
You're a monster Sam.
You killed me.
Sam bent over and picked the glass up with shaky hands. The edges digging into the palm of his hand and into the fresh cut from before but the pain was something he didn't feel. He was numb, inside and out. He couldn't think. He couldn't feel. He couldn't care.
This is your redemption.
Do it!
Sam placed the glass against his wrist. It was cool and sharp against his skin. Its taunting bite driving into his wrist with little pressure making a small puncture that started to bleed. Blood rolling down his hand until it dripped onto the floor.
Do it Sam. Be one less evil to worry about. One less monster to hunt.
One monster gone. It was a constant repeat of thought and without hesitation Sam applied more pressure and slowly started to move the glass across his wrist.
"Sam! No!"
Sam never heard the locks being pulled back nor the door as it slammed open. He didn't hear the loud rush of footsteps that rushed down the stairs and towards him, not even the call of his name. He didn't register when a hand gripped his arm and knocked the glass out of his grasp or the hands gripping either side of his face.
His brothers face swarm into his vision. The expression before that held nothing but hate and disgust was replaced with concern and fear. Dean's eyes were wide and fearful and he stared at Sam, pleading for a response. His brothers mouth was moving but no words formed, no sound came out.
Sam felt a sudden weakness and his legs turned to jelly and fell forward losing what little strength he had. His eyes rolling up into the back of his head as dizziness struck but, the floor never rose to greet him instead he found himself being caught in a strong hold. Something firm wrapped around him supporting his weight. He could fell warmth being pressed against him and all he could think was this was safe. This was home.
He couldn't hold on to reality any longer as a black oblivion crept up to take him but in his last moment of consciousness he heard:
"I gotcha, Sammy...Im right here."