Heaven Forbid
Fandom: Supernatural
Spoilers: S3 Finale; speculation on my part
Disclaimer: I don't own these boys; damn you, Kripke-WHY!?; I also don't own the song Heaven Forbid sung by The Fray
Summary: Sam struggles with losing Dean
AN: If you don't want to read I totally understand-this is just one of my ways of coping after the finale *heavy sigh* If you do read though I would love feedback as always :)
Heaven Forbid
One single solitary second was too fucking long. And Dean had been in the pit for an entire week. Sam had tried to reason with Bobby that they had to summon Lilith. Bring her ass back to them. Demand answers. Solutions. Anything to save Dean. Bobby for his part demanded that this wasn’t a suicide mission. Acting recklessly and going in half-cocked wouldn’t bring Dean back any sooner. They needed a plan. Even if it took them awhile to devise one that would work, no matter how long the time frame.
Sam stared at the older man in disbelief and disgust. Bobby just didn’t understand that he was willing to go to any lengths to bring his brother back. And the sooner he found a way the better for Dean. Anger coursing through his veins, Sam slammed his way through Bobby’s house and outside. He glared at the trees and the sunlight beating down on the hood of the Impala. Dean’s baby. Every time Sam got a good long look at her he felt despair slowly seep its way through his body. Shaking his head and loudly clearing his throat Sam shook off the feeling of falling to his knees and giving into the tears of loss he hadn’t cried since the night Dean was taken. Instead, he almost reluctantly approached the car.
“Hey, baby,” he whispered, carefully climbing into the driver’s seat. As hard as he fucking tried Sam knew in his gut that he could never get used to driving the Impala. It had been a rare treat for him when Dean was feeling charitable, letting the keys drop softly into his younger brother’s hand. But ultimately he couldn’t think of the Impala as anything but Dean’s car. Dean, he knew, wouldn’t have it any other way.
***
Week two passed in a numb haze. Failure, Sam knew was not an option. But depression decided to kick him in the balls regardless. He couldn’t bring himself to request a single when checking into a new motel. Everything he did lately reminded him of Dean. Especially being in the Impala. One day he just decided to drive around aimlessly with no real destination in mind. With the radio cranked to full volume Sam sang along to each and every classic rock song that came on the air. He couldn’t help but feel as if Dean was encouraging him. At one point he actually burst into laughter at himself.
“Dean, I can’t believe you…” He immediately sobered once his eyes landed on the empty passenger seat. Pulling over to the side of the road he felt himself begin to shake uncontrollably. He wouldn’t allow the tears to come. He couldn’t. If he did, he knew he’d never be able to stop. And what help would that be to Dean? If Sam let grief overtake him it’d be giving up. He’d be damned if he was just going to roll over and let the demons win. Again.
“I’m not giving up on you. You hear me, Dean? I’m not giving up on you,” he whispered fiercely. Finally gaining enough semblance of control, Sam listened to the Impala purr as he made his way back to his current motel.
***
The nightmares began during the third week. Sam would awake in cold sweats, short of breath with his heart pounding. Everything he and Dean had talked about since Sam discovered that his brother only had a year to live, roared unbidden inside his head.
“You’re alive. I feel good for the first time in a long time. I’ve got a year to live, Sam. I’d like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell, huh?” … “Sam, remember what Dad taught you, okay? And remember what I taught you.”
Dean’s voice reverberated in his head. Burying his face in his hands, Sam swallowed hard. He wished he was able to quiet the constant noise, but at the same time he didn’t want it to go away. It kept him motivated, digging for answers. He just hoped he’d find something tangible soon.
***
As the end of the month quickly approached Sam was spiraling. The claws of desperation were digging their way deeper inside him. After nearly four weeks of holding them back the tears came. He finally just let go. Embraced the pain and anger he was feeling.
One single solitary second was too fucking long. And Dean had been in the pit for an entire month now. Sam would’ve given anything to hear Dean call him a bitch one more time, the familiar smirk lighting up his features as he did so. And his older brother calling him Sammy? God, Sam just couldn’t go there without feeling all twisted inside.
Instead, as promised he concentrated on what John and Dean had taught him. It didn’t matter anymore if he had to march into hell itself to bring his brother back. Dean was coming home to him. Even if that meant Sam had to embrace his dark side. He was scared as hell, but as long as he had Dean with him none of that mattered.
I Don’t Know How To Get You Out of This One…
THE END
Spoilers: S3 Finale; speculation on my part
Disclaimer: I don't own these boys; damn you, Kripke-WHY!?; I also don't own the song Heaven Forbid sung by The Fray
Summary: Sam struggles with losing Dean
AN: If you don't want to read I totally understand-this is just one of my ways of coping after the finale *heavy sigh* If you do read though I would love feedback as always :)
Heaven Forbid
One single solitary second was too fucking long. And Dean had been in the pit for an entire week. Sam had tried to reason with Bobby that they had to summon Lilith. Bring her ass back to them. Demand answers. Solutions. Anything to save Dean. Bobby for his part demanded that this wasn’t a suicide mission. Acting recklessly and going in half-cocked wouldn’t bring Dean back any sooner. They needed a plan. Even if it took them awhile to devise one that would work, no matter how long the time frame.
Sam stared at the older man in disbelief and disgust. Bobby just didn’t understand that he was willing to go to any lengths to bring his brother back. And the sooner he found a way the better for Dean. Anger coursing through his veins, Sam slammed his way through Bobby’s house and outside. He glared at the trees and the sunlight beating down on the hood of the Impala. Dean’s baby. Every time Sam got a good long look at her he felt despair slowly seep its way through his body. Shaking his head and loudly clearing his throat Sam shook off the feeling of falling to his knees and giving into the tears of loss he hadn’t cried since the night Dean was taken. Instead, he almost reluctantly approached the car.
“Hey, baby,” he whispered, carefully climbing into the driver’s seat. As hard as he fucking tried Sam knew in his gut that he could never get used to driving the Impala. It had been a rare treat for him when Dean was feeling charitable, letting the keys drop softly into his younger brother’s hand. But ultimately he couldn’t think of the Impala as anything but Dean’s car. Dean, he knew, wouldn’t have it any other way.
***
Week two passed in a numb haze. Failure, Sam knew was not an option. But depression decided to kick him in the balls regardless. He couldn’t bring himself to request a single when checking into a new motel. Everything he did lately reminded him of Dean. Especially being in the Impala. One day he just decided to drive around aimlessly with no real destination in mind. With the radio cranked to full volume Sam sang along to each and every classic rock song that came on the air. He couldn’t help but feel as if Dean was encouraging him. At one point he actually burst into laughter at himself.
“Dean, I can’t believe you…” He immediately sobered once his eyes landed on the empty passenger seat. Pulling over to the side of the road he felt himself begin to shake uncontrollably. He wouldn’t allow the tears to come. He couldn’t. If he did, he knew he’d never be able to stop. And what help would that be to Dean? If Sam let grief overtake him it’d be giving up. He’d be damned if he was just going to roll over and let the demons win. Again.
“I’m not giving up on you. You hear me, Dean? I’m not giving up on you,” he whispered fiercely. Finally gaining enough semblance of control, Sam listened to the Impala purr as he made his way back to his current motel.
***
The nightmares began during the third week. Sam would awake in cold sweats, short of breath with his heart pounding. Everything he and Dean had talked about since Sam discovered that his brother only had a year to live, roared unbidden inside his head.
“You’re alive. I feel good for the first time in a long time. I’ve got a year to live, Sam. I’d like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell, huh?” … “Sam, remember what Dad taught you, okay? And remember what I taught you.”
Dean’s voice reverberated in his head. Burying his face in his hands, Sam swallowed hard. He wished he was able to quiet the constant noise, but at the same time he didn’t want it to go away. It kept him motivated, digging for answers. He just hoped he’d find something tangible soon.
***
As the end of the month quickly approached Sam was spiraling. The claws of desperation were digging their way deeper inside him. After nearly four weeks of holding them back the tears came. He finally just let go. Embraced the pain and anger he was feeling.
One single solitary second was too fucking long. And Dean had been in the pit for an entire month now. Sam would’ve given anything to hear Dean call him a bitch one more time, the familiar smirk lighting up his features as he did so. And his older brother calling him Sammy? God, Sam just couldn’t go there without feeling all twisted inside.
Instead, as promised he concentrated on what John and Dean had taught him. It didn’t matter anymore if he had to march into hell itself to bring his brother back. Dean was coming home to him. Even if that meant Sam had to embrace his dark side. He was scared as hell, but as long as he had Dean with him none of that mattered.
I Don’t Know How To Get You Out of This One…
THE END