SPN S06 Sam Winchester Introspection
Title: SW Introspection
Author: ashes4twenty
Fandom: Supernatural
Setting: Set after S06E03 The Third Man
Rating: PG
Word Count: 473
It was different being back in the Impala after so long, the old floor boards vibrating underneath Sam’s feet as the miles flew by, the steady rumble of the engine softened by the hush of cold air blowing through the AC. He feels almost too big for the passenger seat which is ridiculous considering he hasn’t grown an inch since his last summer of high school but by now Sam’s use to feeling odd in what should be familiar places. So he settles the best he can, long legs crossed at the ankles, large hands lax on the cover of an ancient book in his lap, the leather worn and fraying at the edges. Back straight Sam watches the world move around them, eyes trying to catch details in the brief seconds he can focus on them, attention narrowed to the task of applying everything he can to memory because in the past year that he’s been alive Sam has learned two things.
One, details are important. The day, the time, their location on his mental map, what they’re hunting, how they’ll kill it, where they’ll stay tonight, what bars will be in town, how cheap will the girls be, and how much will Sam have to say before Dean lets him slip away.
Two, memories are powerful.
So he keeps up the constant mental stream of who, what, when, where and how, learning in excess, filling his daytime thoughts with things of the mundane as he interacts with people he can’t identify with anymore.
At that thought the left corner of his mouth quirks up for a second, reminded of those first few weeks when Sam had been alone, struggling with a darkness no human could ever conceive. It had taken days before he trusted himself enough to go into town, to surround himself with people when he was still so convinced that his sins were branded in his eyes for everyone to see. He’d sat in a public park for hours that day, body language closed off, eyes focused towards the ground until the sun bled out on the horizon and street lamps started to burn. Then he’d heard it, a quiet harmony that gradually rose in volume as a procession of people marched down the street, hymn books in hand singing praises for this sacred day and at the sight he remembered these words: For God so loved the world… he gave his only begotten Son.
It seemed nonsensical then, but now he could see the irony in it because Sam had saved the world once too. Not for his love of the world, but for the love of a brother and he’d given everything for that love.
Now that he was alive again he had nothing left to give and that was something Sam knew that Dean wouldn’t understand.