(no subject)
Title: The Long Con - Chapter Nine
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,233
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean, Bobby, Lucifer.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Summary: Lucifer: "It ends when you can't take it anymore."
Faced with a hallucination and his brother, Sam makes the wrong choice. Now he is alone in the world. What will Dean do to save him, and will he get there in time?
LIMP!SAM WORRIED!DEAN
AU Set S7 Episode 02 - Story picks up midway through Hello, Cruel World and takes an alternate path from the warehouse scene.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.
Spoilers: Up to Season Seven: Episode 2
Thanks go to SnarkyMuch2 for beta’ing this fic.
~ Chapter Nine ~
They saw the smoke as they approached the turning, and a sick sinking feeling assaulted them both.
“It’s fine,” Bobby assured them both. “There’s no reason to believe it has anything to do with Sam.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s always got something to do with Sam.”
They rounded the corner and caught sight of the burning building. The fire Sam had set had taken hold now; flames poured from the roof. A fire crew fought the fire with hoses, while police held back the curious onlookers.
Dean heart contracted, and he leapt from the still moving car.
“Dean!” Bobby called after him as he slammed the car to a halt.
A cop caught Dean’s arm as he raced towards the house. “You can’t go any closer, buddy,” he said.
“No, you don’t understand. My brother…” Dean’s breath came in pants.
The cop gave him an assessing look. “What’s that about your brother?”
“I think he’s in there,” Dean said desperately. Images of an unconscious Sam trapped inside the house assaulted his mind. In his head, flames licked closer and closer to Sam. He retched.
“Are you sure?” the cop asked.
“Yes. I mean no. I don’t know.” Dean’s thoughts were scrambled by his fear.
“Hey, I think we’ve got someone in there,” the cop said to one of the fire crew.
The man turned. “I thought the place was supposed to be empty.” He looked to Dean for an explanation.
Dean couldn’t speak. He was overcome with horror. Was this what Sam had been talking about? Did he plan to set the house alight with himself still inside? As methods of suicide went, it was fairly grisly, but there was no knowing what Lucifer was capable of persuading Sam to do.
“Hey, talk to me,” the fireman commanded. “Is there someone inside?”
“No.” Bobby had finally caught up with them. “There’s no one inside.”
“But your friend said…”
“He’s confused. He’s been through a lot lately. His brother’s missing.”
“Okay, sir. If you would like to give this officer a description of your brother he can file a missing persons,” the fireman said sympathetically.
Bobby nodded politely even as he dragged Dean away from the police officer.
“What are you doing?” Dean demanded. “Sam is-”
“Not in there,” Bobby finished for him.
“How can you know that?”
“Because the car isn’t here,” Bobby said. “I don’t doubt that Sam set the fire, but he didn’t stay. Your car is gone and that means he is, too.”
Bobby had felt the same thrill of terror as he had seen the burning house, and he had shared Dean’s horrifying images of an unconscious Sam inside, but reason had caught up with him when he failed to see the Impala. For whatever reason Sam had set the house ablaze, he hadn’t stayed to see it burn. The real question now was where Sam had gone next.
Dean was coming to the same conclusion. He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the map for a Sam’s location. He cursed as the message came up saying that Sam’s location was unavailable. He must have turned it off after he called Bobby.
“Where is he?” Bobby asked.
Dean sighed heavily. “I don’t know. He turned the damned phone off again.” He felt a wave of despair. Sam could be anywhere by now. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re going to think,” Bobby said impatiently. “Where would Sam go?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You knew he was coming back here. Think like Sam. If you were him, and were planning what he’s planning, where would you go?”
Dean didn’t want to think like his brother. To do that would be to admit to what Bobby was hinting at. That Sam was going to take his own life. The thought was repugnant to him.
“C’mon, Dean, think!” Bobby took Dean’s arm and led him back to the car.
Against his wishes, Dean put himself into his brother’s position. Sam was sentimental. He would want somewhere with meaning. That was why Dean had been sure he would be at the house, but he hadn’t taken Lucifer into account. Sam had been running with his hallucination for over three weeks now. Lucifer was firmly rooted in his mind.
Thoughts of Lucifer brought the answer to Dean’s mind. He gasped. “Stull!”
“The cemetery?” Bobby questioned. “Where Lucifer and Michael were supposed to have their smack-down?”
Dean shook his head. “The place Sam took the dive. Sam’s sentimental. He would want to end it where it started for him.”
“I sure hope you’re right,” Bobby said.
Dean was thinking the exact same thing. As he put the car into gear and pulled back onto the road, he prayed that he wouldn’t be too late.
xXx
Sam didn’t race away from the burning house. He drove steadily away, in no rush to do what came next. He was at peace with his decision, or so he thought. But a small, unacknowledged part of him was hoping someone would see him going and know to stop him.
He didn’t want to die. He was sure he was bound for hell again, despite what Jess had said, and he didn’t want to doom himself to an eternity there. Not again. But this wasn’t about what he wanted; it was about what Dean needed. He needed to be set free.
Sam had felt a little better about what he was doing after talking to Bobby. He was satisfied that Dean would be taken care of and that he would one day understand why Sam did it. It wasn’t a selfish act. It was a selfless one. The only selfish part of what he was going to do was the mess he was leaving behind for someone else to find. At least it wouldn’t be Dean that found him. That was one comfort that Sam could take from this. It could be Bobby, of course. He had said he was close, but Bobby wouldn’t know where to find him. Only Dean knew him well enough to know where he would choose to go.
The car moved through the streets slowly. The world was slowly waking, and Sam wondered what was happening inside the houses he passed, families going about their lives, not knowing someone was passing them on his way to his last great act.
The drive wasn’t long enough for Sam. Soon he was driving through the gates of the cemetery. As he pulled the car to a stop, the sun crested over the horizon. It was almost as if it was greeting him, telling him it was okay. It was a beautiful sight, and Sam was pleased that he would have one last glimpse of something beautiful before he went.
He pulled the car to a halt and climbed reluctantly from the driver’s seat. He ran a hand over the shining hood as he passed it, in a silent goodbye to the only home he could remember. He made his way around to the trunk and popped it open. There was a wealth of weapons inside, so many to choose from. The which didn’t matter, only the what. He had considered his options carefully, and the only way to guarantee he succeeded was a gun. Anything else was too unpredictable. It was also poetic in a way. Live by the gun, die by the gun. He would have liked the Colt, that too would have been poetic, but there was no way of knowing where it was now. Lucifer had taken it…
Lucifer. Sam was glad that he had left Sam alone for now. He didn’t want to hear his taunting as he did this.
Sam picked up his .45 and stepped around to the front of the car again. He sat on the damp ground and pulled his knees up to his chest. Now the moment was here, he was scared. It was only his ingrained belief that he was doing the right thing, the selfless thing, that stopped him from climbing into the car and driving away again.
“This is for Dean,” he murmured to the empty graveyard.
He took the safety off and pressed the gun to his temple.
“All for Dean.”
xXx
Dean smacked the steering wheel in frustration and cursed. “Dammit, Bobby. You couldn’t have chosen a faster car?”
Bobby didn’t answer. He knew Dean wasn’t really talking to him. He was just venting his frustration at the only thing he could. Bobby felt the same way. He wanted to punch things and yell and cry. Anything to ease the pit of desperation building in his stomach. As much as he tried to bat the idea away, a voice was whispering in his mind that they were going to be too late.
Dean was barely hanging on to his sanity. His worst fear was coming to fruition, and time was not on his side. He didn’t know what he would do if he was too late. He didn’t know how to function in a world without Sam. Not anymore. Not after getting him back. Memories of Cold Oak forced themselves upon him, and his eyes burned. He remembered how it had felt to hold Sam in his arms as the life bled from him. He had sworn the moment he came back to the cabin and found Sam alive again that nothing would ever take his brother from him again. Plenty had tried, people, monsters, demons, and even hell, but he always got him back. He was determined that this time would be no different. He would get to Sam and he would save him from himself.
“He’s there,” Bobby said as they came within sight of the cemetery. “I can see the car.”
Dean had seen it, too, but what he couldn’t see was his brother. A flash of Sam lying prone, bleeding on the ground came to his mind, and he forced it away. That wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t let it.
He yanked on the handbrake and jumped out of the car. “Sam! Sammy!”
Sam heard the shout, and his finger faltered on the trigger. “Dean?”
Dean felt a wave of relief so intense it stole his breath as he heard his brother’s reply. He ran in the direction of the sound, and his heart stopped. Sam was sitting, resting his back against the car. He would have looked like he was merely taking a rest if it wasn’t for the gun pressed against his temple.
Dean gasped. “Sammy, no!”
Sam looked at Dean with a furrowed brow, almost as if he was confused.
“Put the gun down!”
Bobby heard Dean’s command and his heart clenched. They weren’t too late, not yet at least, but they were close. If Sam had the gun out already… It was down to them to stop him. He stepped slowly around the car, preparing to wrest the gun from Sam, but Dean held out a hand to stop him. Bobby couldn’t see how close Sam was to pulling the trigger, but Dean could, and he knew if Bobby was to attempt to tackle Sam, it would all be over.
“Dean?” Sam looked up at Dean questioningly. “What are you doing here?”
“Where else would I be?” Dean asked. “Your brother takes off with Satan, you do all you can to find him.”
Sam nodded as if coming to a realization. “Oh, you’re him again.”
“No, Sammy. It’s really me,” Dean said, knowing what Sam was thinking and hating it. “Not Lucifer. I’m really here.”
“Okay,” Sam said quietly.
Dean knew Sam didn’t believe him, and he was at a loss for what to do. He gestured Bobby to come into view. “Bobby’s here, too,” he said. “We’re both here and we’re both real. C’mon, Sam, you have to believe me.”
Bobby felt a sickening twinge of horror as he stepped into view and saw Sam with the gun at his temple. He wanted to make a grab for it, but he knew if he even twitched the wrong way, Sam would pull the trigger.
“It’s me, boy,” he said softly.
Sam looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded. “Hey, Bobby.”
Dean and Bobby exchanged a look. It didn’t seem like they had broken through to Sam, and they were all out of ideas. Dean had been sure when Sam saw Bobby he would believe.
“It’s us, Sam,” Dean said. “Think about it. Lucifer can’t be two people.”
Seemingly without thought, Sam lowered the gun to his lap and nodded. “Okay.”
Dean looked into his brother’s eyes and emptiness stared back at him. It was as if his brother was already dead.
Slowly, Dean lowered himself to the ground and knelt opposite his brother. “I need you to look at me, Sam. See it’s really me.”
Sam raised his head and looked at Dean. “It’s really you. I know that.”
Dean exhaled in a gust. “Oh, thank god.”
“But now you have to leave. I have something to do.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “We’re not leaving you, Sammy.”
“You have to. I don’t want you here for this. There is something I have to do.”
“I can see that,” Dean said. “But you don’t have to do anything. I am here now. I can take care of you.”
Sam smiled wryly. It was for precisely that reason that he had to do this. He needed to free Dean of this burden. He didn’t know what to do though. The gun was still gripped tight in his hand, a heavy weight against his lap, a comforting weight.
Dean saw Sam’s smile and misinterpreted it as agreement with his words. “That’s right, Sammy. I'm going to take care of you.”
Sam shook his head and looked to Bobby. “Can you take him away now?”
Bobby gaped at him. “You want me to take Dean away?”
“Yes. I don’t want either of you here for this.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” Dean growled. “Not while you’re sitting there with a gun in your lap.”
Sam frowned, frustrated by Dean’s refusal. He didn’t understand why Dean couldn’t see it was for the best. He should have to witness this. He had already suffered enough on Sam’s account. Sam wished they hadn’t come. He was prepared to do what needed to be done, the decision was made, but now they were here, complicating things.
“Don’t you see? That’s why you have to go. I can’t do this with you here.”
“Then I'm definitely not leaving,” Dean said.
Sam gripped the gun a little tighter and pushed himself to his feet. Marching past Dean where he sat on the ground, he began to pace.
“Give us a minute, Bobby,” Dean instructed. “I need to be alone with my brother.”
Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, Bobby nodded and walked back to his car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he leaned his head against the steering wheel and forced back the tears that threatened to fall. He half expected to hear the crack of a gun at any minute.
Sam watched Bobby as he walked away, relieved that at least one of his concerns was dealt with. He just had to make Dean understand. “I have to do this, Dean. For both our sakes. You shouldn’t have to…”
“To what?” Dean asked, getting to his feet, too.
“To live like this anymore. I am setting you free.”
“Free from what? Free from a world with my brother in it? Because I have already lived that life, and I can’t do it again.”
Sam scowled at him. “No. I am freeing you from the world in which you are shackled to me. I have stolen your life, and I am sorry, but this is one thing I can do to put it right.”
Dean was brought up short by Sam’s words. Of all the things he had expected, this was not it. He had expected Sam to excuse what he was doing for his own reasons. He had expected reasons like living with Lucifer wasn’t really living, or that the memories of hell were tormenting him too much to stand. He was prepared to deal with those reasons by promising to be there to help. He had no defense when Sam thought he was acting for Dean’s best interests.
“You wouldn’t be putting it right,” Dean said. “You would be destroying it all. All I have devoted my life to-to taking care of you. How am I supposed to live knowing I failed?”
Sam looked at him sadly. “It wouldn’t feel like that forever. It would get better.”
“Maybe it would, but there would always be a hole in my life where you used to be. Are you really going to curse me to that?”
Dean hated talking about feelings. That was strictly Sam’s thing. But if there was ever a time to overcome his own wants, it was this. He had to reach his brother before it was too late.
“I'm sorry, Dean, but it’s the only way,” Sam said.
An idea occurred to Dean, and he embraced it. He couldn’t reach Sam as he thought he was doing the best thing for Dean. Dean had to use that weakness against his brother.
He pulled out his own gun and took off the safety. “Fine. You want to do this, we do it together.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “No!”
“Yes,” Dean said remorselessly. “We have shared everything since you were six months old. Let’s share this, too.”
“Dean, no!”
Cold hard fear gripped Sam’s insides. This was not what was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be fast and easy. This was the furthest thing from that. He couldn’t let Dean kill himself. It was wrong. The world was supposed to have Dean in it, just as it was not supposed to have Sam. Sam had been living on borrowed time since Jake had stabbed him in Cold Oak. Doing this was just setting the score straight at last.
“Yes, Sam. You shoot, I shoot. It’s as simple as that.”
“You can’t. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”
“According to who? Lucifer? Because he’s not real. He’s just a hallucination, Sammy. Whatever he said to you, it’s not real.”
Sam shook his head. “No, it’s right. They told me.”
“Who told you?”
“Mom, dad, Jess. They all said this was the right thing to do.”
Dean felt sick. Not only had Lucifer appeared to him as Dean, he had used everyone Sam had loved and lost to make his point. Except it wasn’t Lucifer. It was all Sam’s head.
“They lied,” he said simply. “Who are you going to believe, a hallucination or your own brother?”
Sam didn’t know what to do. The others had made it seem like this was the right thing to do, the only thing to do, but here was Dean, his real flesh and blood brother, telling him it was wrong.
“Believe me, Sammy. Believe in me. You can’t do this to me. I need you, man.”
Sam raised his hand, holding out the gun to his brother, when the whisper came to him. “Selfish.” He raised his head and saw Lucifer smirking at him. “So selfish, Sam.”
Sam’s hand snapped up and he pulled the trigger.