Supernatural fic: Me, Myself & I 1/1 [PG-13] Sam - 6.11 coda
Title: Me, Myself & I
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas
Spoilers: up to & incl. 6.11
Notes: Coda #2 to 6.11
Point of view changes, first and third person.
This takes place in the space between what we know and what we don't. It is not intended to be accurate, just to be one possible take.
I wonder if I am the only one who will miss Soulless Sam?
01/09/11 11:48:29 AM
Me, Myself & I
I've done a lot of things in the past year. Looked for answers, ate good food and bad, drank beer and whiskey, been with women, hunted, tracked and killed. Hunted a lot. Killed a lot. I never killed anything human, or innocent, deliberately, but there were some casualties. Collateral. But murdered innocents? No. No reason to. I never got any pleasure from killing, not even from killing something evil. Got some satisfaction, though. See, there's no satisfaction in collateral damage. Just a brief regret sometimes.
Most of the time, I tried to do what I was supposed to do. What I was raised and trained to do. If I was some kind of serial killer, I'd have gotten some kind of twisted enjoyment out of hurting and killing, but I never got any of that, so, no, saying I'm like a serial killer is just stupid.
I did what needed to be done. If a few people got hurt, what about all the people those evil creatures would have preyed upon had they not been taken down? I thought that was supposed to matter, to mean something.
Now, I don't know.
I had a brother. I remembered everything that we did together, the fights and the hunting, the sacrifices and the prices paid. Yeah, the memories were a little flat, and I didn't understand why some of those things happened, but I knew it was important. Significant. I remembered what I told Dean - Go live some apple pie life. So I left him alone to do it. It looked like he was doing okay.
Samuel wanted to bring him in, to hunt, but I said no, because I remembered. It seemed like a good thing, him having a normal life with Lisa. He wanted that, right? I remembered. I remembered that when he was going to say yes to Michael, it was Lisa he went to. So, let him have it.
I didn't need him.
Then the djinn went after him and I had to save him. Because, you know, he's my brother.
It was weird, talking to him. I don't know what was in his eyes when he looked at me but that first hug... it felt nice. Like things were settling into a good place. I liked it.
I thought a lot about him after that. Thought a lot about the memories. They still felt flat, but it occurred to me that maybe if I spent more time with him, things might start to fill out.
The more I thought about that, the more curious I felt about it. So when I saw a chance, I took it. Because Dean, Dean's different. Different from Samuel, different from me. Dean feels things.
After a while I started to get the idea that maybe there was something wrong with me. Mostly, I got that from Dean. I didn't really understand why he reacted to some things, but the reactions were pretty damn noticeable. I started trying to be more like what he was expecting, mostly because I didn't really want to deal with an annoyed or upset Dean. But I slipped up a few times.
The vamp thing. Okay, that was a pretty big screw-up, only, look, we needed the intel! And come on, Samuel didn't know Dean, didn't understand that if anyone could do it and get out, it was my brother. Well, my brother or me. But if it had been me that got turned, Dean never would have called Samuel. He didn't know about the cure. So, it all worked out perfectly. And Dean did it, right? Well, he screwed up when he went to see Lisa, but how was I supposed to predict that he would do something that stupid? I never would have done that. But okay, call it my bad. Everyone seemed to think I should have known, and I get what Samuel said, how Dean on vamp blood was compromised. I just thought all I had to do was keep him from biting some waitress, though. Going out the window all the way to Cicero was not on my list of things to watch out for.
After that, Dean looked at me different.
I get that I wasn't the little brother he remembered, but come on, people change. It's almost like he wanted me to be broken and needy.
Things went south pretty fast after that. Too fast for me to keep up with. I thought it was going to be okay when he said I should stop pretending and tell the truth but that lasted all of what, five minutes? Then he was on my case telling me what I ought to feel, and tell me to fake it.
Frankly, I found that frustrating and confusing. But I'm the one who's got something wrong with them, right?
All it took was for Castiel to arm-rape me, and decide that I didn't have a soul.
So, fine. No soul. No one really explained to my satisfaction what was so bad about that. Dean said my judgment was crappy and given what we found about about Samuel, I can sort of see that, but then he wouldn't even let me waste the guy. That was an error in judgment if you ask me. Look where it got us - Samuel gave us up to Crowley.
I don't think that was really the problem, though. I think the real problem was that Dean started seeing me as someone else. Not Sam. Not his brother.
It didn't help that everybody was chiming in about "the REAL Sam" being locked in the cage with pissed off Lucifer and Michael. I could see it in his eyes, all he was thinking about after that was "saving Sammy".
That's when he decided to kill me.
So okay, I may not have a soul, but I was still his brother. I asked him to respect my right to decide, but that didn't carry any weight. No soul, no rights, I guess. At least Cas was on my side. Problem with that though is that Cas is Dean's bitch and will always go with what Dean says in the end.
It's not like I wanted to kill Bobby. Bobby's never been anything but good to me, soul or no.
I didn't have any choice. Dean was going to do anything to get that soul back into me. He didn't care what it did to me, he wasn't listening to anything I said.
I didn't want to kill Bobby. But I wanted to live. That's called self defense.
See, when Cas was diagnosing me, he asked me what I felt. Not like hungry or injuries, but feeling. I told him the truth. I told him I didn't know.
I didn't say I didn't ever feel anything. I just said I didn't know.
Now though, with Dean making a deal with Death to get my soul back out of the cage and jam it in me, I felt something, and I knew exactly what it was.
I felt fear.
I looked into Dean's eyes and begged him not to let Death put that soul back into me. I begged.
No dice.
After that there was a whitehot searing of agony worse that anything and then.
~
There was a long, long tunnel to climb. It was dark and steep and the sides were somehow crumbly and slippery at the same time. Sam climbed for a long time. He climbed without remembering why he was climbing. His hands and knees abraded until they bled and he slipped in it, slipped back down, had to climb up again, over and over. His limbs felt leaden, and there was no meaning to up, but he kept on climbing because stopping meant sliding back down and what was at the bottom was... no... he couldn't think about it, couldn't let himself.
He didn't know when it happened but suddenly there was an icy grip around his chest that was boney and sharp, implacable and cold enough to slice him apart. There was no air in the tunnel to scream.
When the icy grip released him he was stunned into silence, stunned into oblivion.
Oblivion was so welcome Sam couldn't surrender to it fast enough.
"He's been sleeping for four days, Bobby..."
Familiar voice. Sam wanted to stay safe in beautiful, wonderful oblivion but he also yearned towards that voice.
After a while, he woke up.
His body felt strange. It almost felt like it didn't quite fit any more, but Sam didn't care. His hands were a bit clumsy, but when Dean hugged him he clung like a drowning man to a rock in the middle of the ocean.
He was a little shamed of his tears.
Eventually, there was some semblance of normal. Normal came with a price, but then when didn't it? This time, the price was that there was a wall inside him and he was supposed to leave it alone. It itched. It whispered. It throbbed sometimes. But he was suppose to leave it alone so he did his best. Because Dean had made a deal with Death to save him.
When he realized Dean had given up Lisa and Ben to save him, he couldn't stop the flood of guilt.
Dean didn't want to answer any questions about what had been happening before. Sam tried not to ask. After the warning about the wall, Sam tried just to be still inside himself.
Sometimes, when he washed his face, he looked up into the mirror and a stranger looked back.
~
The first time I saw myself in the mirror, I was surprised. I thought I was dead. I thought they had killed me when they put that soul back into my body.
So, surprised.
I didn't look that great. My eyes were red rimmed and there was a tension that made the creases next to my eyes cut a little deeper that they used to. My shoulders were starting to hunch just a tiny bit. So much tension.
He was looking at me. That guy, that Sam. Dean's brother. The old me.
I didn't have any power any more, didn't have any control, so I just looked back.
Finally he looked away. But I was there. I did the only thing I could do. I watched.
For a while, things seemed to go okay for him. Turns out Death hadn't helped Dean because he won any bet, and he hadn't helped him because he was being a nice guy. He wanted something. They always want something from the Winchesters, from us, I would say, except I'm not one of "them", according to Dean.
Death wanted Dean to find out about souls. About something to do with the war in heaven, and maybe about Purgatory and the alphas.
I could have helped on that. I'm a good hunter. The best.
Old me, Souled Sam, tried to help. He's pretty smart, but I noticed that he had all these emotional reactions to everything. So much guilt. And fear - he was afraid of the wall, afraid something would happen to Dean, afraid Dean would hate him for some reason, afraid of screwing up, afraid of being worthless, afraid that he was some kind of monster.
It beat me how he ever managed to do anything with all that baggage.
I mean, I get it, I have all the memories. I know where most of that stuff came from. But there was just so much.
And that's without what happened to him for a year with Lucifer and Michael.
Sometimes, I think he saw me in the mirror. Then there was the Dream.
I was just hanging out, watching him sleep, wandering around inside, trying to figure out where the soul stuff was and what made it so important. Next thing I know, I'm in a field, and I recognized it. It was the field I woke up in. The rain was thinning to a drizzle. And he was there, like, I saw myself standing there, but he was looking at me.
"Who are you?"
I grinned a little but it wasn't a happy expression. "I'm you, idiot. I was out way before you were. Too bad there's only one condo."
He didn't get it. I had to explain it to him. I think it made him upset.
He wanted to know what I was doing there.
"Whether you like it or not, I don't have anywhere else to go," I said.
He seemed like he was freaking out.
I talked him down.
"If you even remember this," I said, "Do yourself a favor and don't tell Dean. I don't think your brother - ha, our brother - likes me."
"Why not?"
"Best I can figure," I answered, and I was frowning. The fact of the matter is, I felt something about it. I felt... kind of betrayed. "Best I can figure, because I'm not you."
I kept an eye on the wall.
I found it pretty easily. It wasn't like it was hard to locate a freaking wall inside of us. It did itch, he wasn't kidding about that. I got up close and on the other side I could hear things. Voices. Some screaming. The hell memories were back there.
He tried to leave it alone, but you know, sometimes you scratch an itch without thinking about it. Little flicks of scratches now and then. And things would happen that made him think about it, even when he tried not to.
I studied it. According to Death, when that thing came down we were both going to end. I wanted to know when that might happen. I wanted to know what was going on back there.
Because. The thing was, what was on the other side of that wall didn't scare me.
For one thing, it didn't happen to me. For another, I was more afraid of dying. Non-existence. I mean, if this body died, Sam's soul would end up somewhere, probably Heaven, unless God decided to revoke his grace, and why the hell would he do that when Sam did everything he was supposed to, like sacrificing himself. God's supposed to be into all that self-sacrifice stuff, right?
So, Sam's soul would go to Heaven, wait for Dean, pal around with Ash, drink beers and relax.
I was the one who would end. I didn't want to though. I hadn't had that long. I wanted to live. It was in my best interests to keep an eye on that damn wall.
There were cracks that started forming in the wall. The more danger there was to Dean, and even to Bobby, and to Cas of all people, the more he stressed, and the cracks spread.
It took Dean almost getting killed for Souled Me to let me help. He froze up. I mean, he really, froze, incapacitated by the risk if he acted, and the certainty of what was going to happen if he didn't. And the whole conflict about it being a werewolf, and his memories of Madison and all that crap.
I didn't expect it. Just, suddenly I took the shot. Made it. The werewolf went down, Dean was saved.
He stared at the mirror a lot after that happened. Like he could see me. Like he knew it was me that had done that.
He started letting me help more. It felt...
It felt good.
I knew what the rules were. He might have the soul but sometimes those things are a liability. But I got it. I let him decide what was important.
When he felt the cracks spreading, I told him, in his dreams. Told him that I was keeping an eye on the wall.
Eventually, it's going to come down. We both know that. I don't know what will happen then but I'm the best hunter that ever was. I know how to do what needs to be done. If I can, I'm going to keep us both alive.
If I can't, I promised him I'd find a way for him to go. He'll be okay in Heaven.
I overheard an interesting conversation the other night. Souled Me was asleep, dreaming his troubled dreams. He shifted a little in them, feeling the presence of an angel ever more acutely as the cracks have spread.
In the next room, Castiel was talking to Dean.
"What do you mean, you made a mistake? For the love of God, how can you make a mistake about something like that?"
It was interesting to hear Dean sound... kind of horrified, I think.
"Tell me what the heck do you mean, Sam's soul... splintered? You're saying there was a tiny piece of it in him the whole time? How could you not know that? I saw you, you practically shoved his tonsils through his ass looking for his soul."
"Dean, I'm sorry. This has never happened before, I swear. We didn't even know it could happen. There's never been anything like this before, there's no precedence."
Cas sounded kind of upset too, in that low keyed kind of way he has.
"So what Death put back in... that was only part of it?"
"Most of it. We think there was only one Shard, and it was tiny."
"So why are you looking like that?"
"Because, we don't know what happened to it. What could happen."
"So you're saying Sam..."
"I'm not saying anything, I'm saying we don't know. Just... be careful with him."
"Cas I'm already being so careful with him I feel like I'm walking on eggshells."
"Just keep doing that."
"You are a big frickin help..."
~
02:33:34 PM
♠ season 6 codas
~
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas
Spoilers: up to & incl. 6.11
Notes: Coda #2 to 6.11
Point of view changes, first and third person.
This takes place in the space between what we know and what we don't. It is not intended to be accurate, just to be one possible take.
I wonder if I am the only one who will miss Soulless Sam?
01/09/11 11:48:29 AM
Me, Myself & I
I've done a lot of things in the past year. Looked for answers, ate good food and bad, drank beer and whiskey, been with women, hunted, tracked and killed. Hunted a lot. Killed a lot. I never killed anything human, or innocent, deliberately, but there were some casualties. Collateral. But murdered innocents? No. No reason to. I never got any pleasure from killing, not even from killing something evil. Got some satisfaction, though. See, there's no satisfaction in collateral damage. Just a brief regret sometimes.
Most of the time, I tried to do what I was supposed to do. What I was raised and trained to do. If I was some kind of serial killer, I'd have gotten some kind of twisted enjoyment out of hurting and killing, but I never got any of that, so, no, saying I'm like a serial killer is just stupid.
I did what needed to be done. If a few people got hurt, what about all the people those evil creatures would have preyed upon had they not been taken down? I thought that was supposed to matter, to mean something.
Now, I don't know.
I had a brother. I remembered everything that we did together, the fights and the hunting, the sacrifices and the prices paid. Yeah, the memories were a little flat, and I didn't understand why some of those things happened, but I knew it was important. Significant. I remembered what I told Dean - Go live some apple pie life. So I left him alone to do it. It looked like he was doing okay.
Samuel wanted to bring him in, to hunt, but I said no, because I remembered. It seemed like a good thing, him having a normal life with Lisa. He wanted that, right? I remembered. I remembered that when he was going to say yes to Michael, it was Lisa he went to. So, let him have it.
I didn't need him.
Then the djinn went after him and I had to save him. Because, you know, he's my brother.
It was weird, talking to him. I don't know what was in his eyes when he looked at me but that first hug... it felt nice. Like things were settling into a good place. I liked it.
I thought a lot about him after that. Thought a lot about the memories. They still felt flat, but it occurred to me that maybe if I spent more time with him, things might start to fill out.
The more I thought about that, the more curious I felt about it. So when I saw a chance, I took it. Because Dean, Dean's different. Different from Samuel, different from me. Dean feels things.
After a while I started to get the idea that maybe there was something wrong with me. Mostly, I got that from Dean. I didn't really understand why he reacted to some things, but the reactions were pretty damn noticeable. I started trying to be more like what he was expecting, mostly because I didn't really want to deal with an annoyed or upset Dean. But I slipped up a few times.
The vamp thing. Okay, that was a pretty big screw-up, only, look, we needed the intel! And come on, Samuel didn't know Dean, didn't understand that if anyone could do it and get out, it was my brother. Well, my brother or me. But if it had been me that got turned, Dean never would have called Samuel. He didn't know about the cure. So, it all worked out perfectly. And Dean did it, right? Well, he screwed up when he went to see Lisa, but how was I supposed to predict that he would do something that stupid? I never would have done that. But okay, call it my bad. Everyone seemed to think I should have known, and I get what Samuel said, how Dean on vamp blood was compromised. I just thought all I had to do was keep him from biting some waitress, though. Going out the window all the way to Cicero was not on my list of things to watch out for.
After that, Dean looked at me different.
I get that I wasn't the little brother he remembered, but come on, people change. It's almost like he wanted me to be broken and needy.
Things went south pretty fast after that. Too fast for me to keep up with. I thought it was going to be okay when he said I should stop pretending and tell the truth but that lasted all of what, five minutes? Then he was on my case telling me what I ought to feel, and tell me to fake it.
Frankly, I found that frustrating and confusing. But I'm the one who's got something wrong with them, right?
All it took was for Castiel to arm-rape me, and decide that I didn't have a soul.
So, fine. No soul. No one really explained to my satisfaction what was so bad about that. Dean said my judgment was crappy and given what we found about about Samuel, I can sort of see that, but then he wouldn't even let me waste the guy. That was an error in judgment if you ask me. Look where it got us - Samuel gave us up to Crowley.
I don't think that was really the problem, though. I think the real problem was that Dean started seeing me as someone else. Not Sam. Not his brother.
It didn't help that everybody was chiming in about "the REAL Sam" being locked in the cage with pissed off Lucifer and Michael. I could see it in his eyes, all he was thinking about after that was "saving Sammy".
That's when he decided to kill me.
So okay, I may not have a soul, but I was still his brother. I asked him to respect my right to decide, but that didn't carry any weight. No soul, no rights, I guess. At least Cas was on my side. Problem with that though is that Cas is Dean's bitch and will always go with what Dean says in the end.
It's not like I wanted to kill Bobby. Bobby's never been anything but good to me, soul or no.
I didn't have any choice. Dean was going to do anything to get that soul back into me. He didn't care what it did to me, he wasn't listening to anything I said.
I didn't want to kill Bobby. But I wanted to live. That's called self defense.
See, when Cas was diagnosing me, he asked me what I felt. Not like hungry or injuries, but feeling. I told him the truth. I told him I didn't know.
I didn't say I didn't ever feel anything. I just said I didn't know.
Now though, with Dean making a deal with Death to get my soul back out of the cage and jam it in me, I felt something, and I knew exactly what it was.
I felt fear.
I looked into Dean's eyes and begged him not to let Death put that soul back into me. I begged.
No dice.
After that there was a whitehot searing of agony worse that anything and then.
~
There was a long, long tunnel to climb. It was dark and steep and the sides were somehow crumbly and slippery at the same time. Sam climbed for a long time. He climbed without remembering why he was climbing. His hands and knees abraded until they bled and he slipped in it, slipped back down, had to climb up again, over and over. His limbs felt leaden, and there was no meaning to up, but he kept on climbing because stopping meant sliding back down and what was at the bottom was... no... he couldn't think about it, couldn't let himself.
He didn't know when it happened but suddenly there was an icy grip around his chest that was boney and sharp, implacable and cold enough to slice him apart. There was no air in the tunnel to scream.
When the icy grip released him he was stunned into silence, stunned into oblivion.
Oblivion was so welcome Sam couldn't surrender to it fast enough.
"He's been sleeping for four days, Bobby..."
Familiar voice. Sam wanted to stay safe in beautiful, wonderful oblivion but he also yearned towards that voice.
After a while, he woke up.
His body felt strange. It almost felt like it didn't quite fit any more, but Sam didn't care. His hands were a bit clumsy, but when Dean hugged him he clung like a drowning man to a rock in the middle of the ocean.
He was a little shamed of his tears.
Eventually, there was some semblance of normal. Normal came with a price, but then when didn't it? This time, the price was that there was a wall inside him and he was supposed to leave it alone. It itched. It whispered. It throbbed sometimes. But he was suppose to leave it alone so he did his best. Because Dean had made a deal with Death to save him.
When he realized Dean had given up Lisa and Ben to save him, he couldn't stop the flood of guilt.
Dean didn't want to answer any questions about what had been happening before. Sam tried not to ask. After the warning about the wall, Sam tried just to be still inside himself.
Sometimes, when he washed his face, he looked up into the mirror and a stranger looked back.
~
The first time I saw myself in the mirror, I was surprised. I thought I was dead. I thought they had killed me when they put that soul back into my body.
So, surprised.
I didn't look that great. My eyes were red rimmed and there was a tension that made the creases next to my eyes cut a little deeper that they used to. My shoulders were starting to hunch just a tiny bit. So much tension.
He was looking at me. That guy, that Sam. Dean's brother. The old me.
I didn't have any power any more, didn't have any control, so I just looked back.
Finally he looked away. But I was there. I did the only thing I could do. I watched.
For a while, things seemed to go okay for him. Turns out Death hadn't helped Dean because he won any bet, and he hadn't helped him because he was being a nice guy. He wanted something. They always want something from the Winchesters, from us, I would say, except I'm not one of "them", according to Dean.
Death wanted Dean to find out about souls. About something to do with the war in heaven, and maybe about Purgatory and the alphas.
I could have helped on that. I'm a good hunter. The best.
Old me, Souled Sam, tried to help. He's pretty smart, but I noticed that he had all these emotional reactions to everything. So much guilt. And fear - he was afraid of the wall, afraid something would happen to Dean, afraid Dean would hate him for some reason, afraid of screwing up, afraid of being worthless, afraid that he was some kind of monster.
It beat me how he ever managed to do anything with all that baggage.
I mean, I get it, I have all the memories. I know where most of that stuff came from. But there was just so much.
And that's without what happened to him for a year with Lucifer and Michael.
Sometimes, I think he saw me in the mirror. Then there was the Dream.
I was just hanging out, watching him sleep, wandering around inside, trying to figure out where the soul stuff was and what made it so important. Next thing I know, I'm in a field, and I recognized it. It was the field I woke up in. The rain was thinning to a drizzle. And he was there, like, I saw myself standing there, but he was looking at me.
"Who are you?"
I grinned a little but it wasn't a happy expression. "I'm you, idiot. I was out way before you were. Too bad there's only one condo."
He didn't get it. I had to explain it to him. I think it made him upset.
He wanted to know what I was doing there.
"Whether you like it or not, I don't have anywhere else to go," I said.
He seemed like he was freaking out.
I talked him down.
"If you even remember this," I said, "Do yourself a favor and don't tell Dean. I don't think your brother - ha, our brother - likes me."
"Why not?"
"Best I can figure," I answered, and I was frowning. The fact of the matter is, I felt something about it. I felt... kind of betrayed. "Best I can figure, because I'm not you."
I kept an eye on the wall.
I found it pretty easily. It wasn't like it was hard to locate a freaking wall inside of us. It did itch, he wasn't kidding about that. I got up close and on the other side I could hear things. Voices. Some screaming. The hell memories were back there.
He tried to leave it alone, but you know, sometimes you scratch an itch without thinking about it. Little flicks of scratches now and then. And things would happen that made him think about it, even when he tried not to.
I studied it. According to Death, when that thing came down we were both going to end. I wanted to know when that might happen. I wanted to know what was going on back there.
Because. The thing was, what was on the other side of that wall didn't scare me.
For one thing, it didn't happen to me. For another, I was more afraid of dying. Non-existence. I mean, if this body died, Sam's soul would end up somewhere, probably Heaven, unless God decided to revoke his grace, and why the hell would he do that when Sam did everything he was supposed to, like sacrificing himself. God's supposed to be into all that self-sacrifice stuff, right?
So, Sam's soul would go to Heaven, wait for Dean, pal around with Ash, drink beers and relax.
I was the one who would end. I didn't want to though. I hadn't had that long. I wanted to live. It was in my best interests to keep an eye on that damn wall.
There were cracks that started forming in the wall. The more danger there was to Dean, and even to Bobby, and to Cas of all people, the more he stressed, and the cracks spread.
It took Dean almost getting killed for Souled Me to let me help. He froze up. I mean, he really, froze, incapacitated by the risk if he acted, and the certainty of what was going to happen if he didn't. And the whole conflict about it being a werewolf, and his memories of Madison and all that crap.
I didn't expect it. Just, suddenly I took the shot. Made it. The werewolf went down, Dean was saved.
He stared at the mirror a lot after that happened. Like he could see me. Like he knew it was me that had done that.
He started letting me help more. It felt...
It felt good.
I knew what the rules were. He might have the soul but sometimes those things are a liability. But I got it. I let him decide what was important.
When he felt the cracks spreading, I told him, in his dreams. Told him that I was keeping an eye on the wall.
Eventually, it's going to come down. We both know that. I don't know what will happen then but I'm the best hunter that ever was. I know how to do what needs to be done. If I can, I'm going to keep us both alive.
If I can't, I promised him I'd find a way for him to go. He'll be okay in Heaven.
I overheard an interesting conversation the other night. Souled Me was asleep, dreaming his troubled dreams. He shifted a little in them, feeling the presence of an angel ever more acutely as the cracks have spread.
In the next room, Castiel was talking to Dean.
"What do you mean, you made a mistake? For the love of God, how can you make a mistake about something like that?"
It was interesting to hear Dean sound... kind of horrified, I think.
"Tell me what the heck do you mean, Sam's soul... splintered? You're saying there was a tiny piece of it in him the whole time? How could you not know that? I saw you, you practically shoved his tonsils through his ass looking for his soul."
"Dean, I'm sorry. This has never happened before, I swear. We didn't even know it could happen. There's never been anything like this before, there's no precedence."
Cas sounded kind of upset too, in that low keyed kind of way he has.
"So what Death put back in... that was only part of it?"
"Most of it. We think there was only one Shard, and it was tiny."
"So why are you looking like that?"
"Because, we don't know what happened to it. What could happen."
"So you're saying Sam..."
"I'm not saying anything, I'm saying we don't know. Just... be careful with him."
"Cas I'm already being so careful with him I feel like I'm walking on eggshells."
"Just keep doing that."
"You are a big frickin help..."
~
02:33:34 PM
♠ season 6 codas
~