Fic: Land of Denial (Dean, The First, Sam) PG
Title: Land of Denial
Rating: PG
Word Count: 933
Summary: Sam is fine. Dean won't believe anything else.
Spoilers: Season 7 of Buffy and through "Sin City" for SPN.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural. They belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.
Notes: Written for tamingthemuse. Prompt: Rocking the boat.
I wrote this in response to a prompt I saw on spn_bunnies. Hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome!
The first time Dean saw Sam sitting next to his bed, he knew that he wasn’t real. He knew this because the real Sam was asleep in the bed across from him. So the smirking Sam, sitting in the chair near his bed couldn’t be real.
“Great. Now I’m seeing things,” Dean muttered. It wasn’t real and it couldn’t be a shifter since he hadn’t heard anyone come in the room and the salt line wasn’t broken. That left two options. He was either seeing things or this was one weird ass dream.
Sam laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, big brother.” He leaned forward. “I’m more real than you know.” His smirk widened as Dean frowned and sat up. “And I’m just getting started.”
Dean watched in disbelief as Sam winked and then seemed to fold into himself until he was no longer there. He shot out of bed, hand wrapping around his knife as he headed towards the chair.
Nothing.
He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sam was still asleep and quietly made his way over to his bag, digging through it until he’d found his EMF meter. Silently, he turned it on and headed back to the chair. Circling the chair and then the table, he waited for something to happen, letting out a breath when nothing did.
He turned off the EMF and set it on the table before turning back to his bed. He couldn’t bring himself to sit in the chair so he sat on the bed, slipping the knife back under his pillow.
It was a long time before he fell back to sleep.
~*~*~
“Sam,” Dean said, glancing up from their supplies. “We need more salt.”
“Got it.” Sam nodded and lifted a hand as he walked out of the room.
He turned back to the supplies, organizing them so that everything would be easier to reach if they needed to get it fast. “And now, guns.”
“Talking to yourself now? You know, that’s never considered a good sign.”
Dean tensed and then forced himself to relax. “Thanks for the tip.”
“No trying to convince yourself that I’m not real? I’m impressed.”
“I’m thrilled.”
The sight of Sam hit him like a punch to the stomach. Clenching his jaw, Dean looked back down, working to ignore the image of his brother.
“I’m also disappointed in you, Dean. Not one attempt to figure me out.”
Dean looked up. “You’re nothing.”
His answer was a slow smile and a shake of the head. “Wrong. I’m Sam.” Sam leaned forward. “And you know it.”
“You’re not Sam,” Dean snapped. He fought the urge to reach for his gun. He had no idea if his gun would work or not.
“Wrong again. I am Sam. I’m that part of Sam that he wishes didn’t exist. I’m inside him, inside you. I’m everywhere. And no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you deny me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“No.”
“Yes. And by the way, you should probably have a little talk with me. I’m rocking the boat with all that research to help your sorry, ungrateful ass. Maybe you should think about that.” Another grin and Sam was gone.
~*~*~
Dean watched Sam, hiding the shock that he still felt from earlier. He’d never thought he’d see the day when Sam would just kill someone without giving them a chance to even speak. Never thought that he ever would see it.
“I’m inside him.”
He shook his head and let out a breath. Even Bobby had said he thought Sam was fine. He’d just ignore how unsure Bobby had sounded as he said it.
Sam was fine.
“Yeah, right. I’m a regular ray of sunshine,” came from behind him.
Dean continued to look at Sam, refusing to turn around. He could see the tension in Sam’s shoulders as he sat on the bed.
“You so-called good guys amaze me. Playing God anytime you get a chance. Killing demons. Bringing people back from the dead.” There was a smile in the voice this time. “Did you ever think that maybe you were taking me away from happiness? I was with Jess again, did you know that? I was with Mom. And you took that away just so you wouldn’t be by yourself only to leave me alone within a year. And you called me the selfish one.”
“I’ll be back. We’re going to need gas,” Dean said, hiding the pain that the other Sam’s words caused him. Sam nodded and stood, turning around. Part of Dean expected Sam to have some sort of reaction to the fact that there was an exact replica of him standing behind Dean.
“I’ll finish packing.”
Dean nodded, not entirely sure what to say, before he turned and walked out of the room.
“You know, Dean, normally I’m the kind of person who hates to say I told you so.”
Dean clenched his jaw as he got into the Impala. “You’re not a person.”
“But for you, big brother, I’ll make an exception,” the fake Sam continued. “I told you so.”
For a moment, all Dean could do was close his eyes as he let out a breath. He wasn’t going to listen to this. He refused.
“Denial. I thought that might be the road you were going to take.”
This wasn’t happening. Nothing was wrong with Sam.
“Keep telling yourself that, Dean. Maybe you’ll even start to believe it.”
Sam wasn’t any different than he’d ever been before.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Sam was fine.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 933
Summary: Sam is fine. Dean won't believe anything else.
Spoilers: Season 7 of Buffy and through "Sin City" for SPN.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Supernatural. They belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.
Notes: Written for tamingthemuse. Prompt: Rocking the boat.
I wrote this in response to a prompt I saw on spn_bunnies. Hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome!
The first time Dean saw Sam sitting next to his bed, he knew that he wasn’t real. He knew this because the real Sam was asleep in the bed across from him. So the smirking Sam, sitting in the chair near his bed couldn’t be real.
“Great. Now I’m seeing things,” Dean muttered. It wasn’t real and it couldn’t be a shifter since he hadn’t heard anyone come in the room and the salt line wasn’t broken. That left two options. He was either seeing things or this was one weird ass dream.
Sam laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far, big brother.” He leaned forward. “I’m more real than you know.” His smirk widened as Dean frowned and sat up. “And I’m just getting started.”
Dean watched in disbelief as Sam winked and then seemed to fold into himself until he was no longer there. He shot out of bed, hand wrapping around his knife as he headed towards the chair.
Nothing.
He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sam was still asleep and quietly made his way over to his bag, digging through it until he’d found his EMF meter. Silently, he turned it on and headed back to the chair. Circling the chair and then the table, he waited for something to happen, letting out a breath when nothing did.
He turned off the EMF and set it on the table before turning back to his bed. He couldn’t bring himself to sit in the chair so he sat on the bed, slipping the knife back under his pillow.
It was a long time before he fell back to sleep.
~*~*~
“Sam,” Dean said, glancing up from their supplies. “We need more salt.”
“Got it.” Sam nodded and lifted a hand as he walked out of the room.
He turned back to the supplies, organizing them so that everything would be easier to reach if they needed to get it fast. “And now, guns.”
“Talking to yourself now? You know, that’s never considered a good sign.”
Dean tensed and then forced himself to relax. “Thanks for the tip.”
“No trying to convince yourself that I’m not real? I’m impressed.”
“I’m thrilled.”
The sight of Sam hit him like a punch to the stomach. Clenching his jaw, Dean looked back down, working to ignore the image of his brother.
“I’m also disappointed in you, Dean. Not one attempt to figure me out.”
Dean looked up. “You’re nothing.”
His answer was a slow smile and a shake of the head. “Wrong. I’m Sam.” Sam leaned forward. “And you know it.”
“You’re not Sam,” Dean snapped. He fought the urge to reach for his gun. He had no idea if his gun would work or not.
“Wrong again. I am Sam. I’m that part of Sam that he wishes didn’t exist. I’m inside him, inside you. I’m everywhere. And no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you deny me, I’m not going anywhere.”
“No.”
“Yes. And by the way, you should probably have a little talk with me. I’m rocking the boat with all that research to help your sorry, ungrateful ass. Maybe you should think about that.” Another grin and Sam was gone.
~*~*~
Dean watched Sam, hiding the shock that he still felt from earlier. He’d never thought he’d see the day when Sam would just kill someone without giving them a chance to even speak. Never thought that he ever would see it.
“I’m inside him.”
He shook his head and let out a breath. Even Bobby had said he thought Sam was fine. He’d just ignore how unsure Bobby had sounded as he said it.
Sam was fine.
“Yeah, right. I’m a regular ray of sunshine,” came from behind him.
Dean continued to look at Sam, refusing to turn around. He could see the tension in Sam’s shoulders as he sat on the bed.
“You so-called good guys amaze me. Playing God anytime you get a chance. Killing demons. Bringing people back from the dead.” There was a smile in the voice this time. “Did you ever think that maybe you were taking me away from happiness? I was with Jess again, did you know that? I was with Mom. And you took that away just so you wouldn’t be by yourself only to leave me alone within a year. And you called me the selfish one.”
“I’ll be back. We’re going to need gas,” Dean said, hiding the pain that the other Sam’s words caused him. Sam nodded and stood, turning around. Part of Dean expected Sam to have some sort of reaction to the fact that there was an exact replica of him standing behind Dean.
“I’ll finish packing.”
Dean nodded, not entirely sure what to say, before he turned and walked out of the room.
“You know, Dean, normally I’m the kind of person who hates to say I told you so.”
Dean clenched his jaw as he got into the Impala. “You’re not a person.”
“But for you, big brother, I’ll make an exception,” the fake Sam continued. “I told you so.”
For a moment, all Dean could do was close his eyes as he let out a breath. He wasn’t going to listen to this. He refused.
“Denial. I thought that might be the road you were going to take.”
This wasn’t happening. Nothing was wrong with Sam.
“Keep telling yourself that, Dean. Maybe you’ll even start to believe it.”
Sam wasn’t any different than he’d ever been before.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Sam was fine.