First Impression
Title: First Impression
Category: Supernatural
Characters: Ezekiel
Summary: Tag to 9x01 so SPOILERS for that episode. In his new vessel Ezekiel takes stock.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just playing with other people's toys
First Impression
The first second was a shock. On his side because Sam immediately realized what was happening and on my side because instantly I was under attack. Even weak as he was Sam tried, and almost succeeded, to throw me out. The only reason he didn't succeed was because of the memories bubbling to the surface with his realization of the situation. That gave me just that bit of advantage to overpower him and to put his mind to sleep.
Overwhelmed by the images flooding his mind I was stunned for a moment. I hadn't really thought about the fact that Sam had been a vessel before. Of course I knew about Lucifer but I hadn't really comprehended what that meant before I had entered Sam's mind. Lucifer had been here before and he'd left his mark everywhere.
I was weak myself and the memories, Holy Father have mercy, those were actual memories, threatened to crush me so I mentally stepped back from Sam's mind and concentrated on his body instead.
The first thing I noticed was that even in its current state my new vessel, Sam, his name is Sam, could hold me comfortably. I shouldn't have been surprised, I knew what this human's destiny had been supposed to be, but after the tightness of my old vessel which could barely hold me without decomposing it was a relief. But then I remembered that the only other equally strong vessel was standing right at my side and that I had a job to do. And Dean wasn't known for his patience. Especially not when it came to his little brother.
I had noticed the damage from the outside but only from the inside I could see the full extent of that damage. There was what the trials had done to his body. The lungs had the worst of it but the other organs were close to failure as well and how Sam had managed to even stay alive that long was beyond me.
But there was more. The scars of a hunter's life. The scarring of demon blood acid-treating its way through the body. Sam may have looked healthy before he'd started the trials but his body was far from it.
Still avoiding the mind, it felt like there was a whole ocean of thick and oily things entwining around each other waiting in the darkness just beneath the surface, I turned my attention to Sam's soul. And I cried.
A soul is beautiful, precious, maybe even God's masterpiece. This one wasn't broken but only because souls can't break like the body or the mind not because of lack of trying. It was like it had been skinned alive, burned and tortured and twisted over and over again. Lucifer's rage taken out on one soul. Centuries of torture worse than anything Hell had ever seen.
I cried over Sam's soul.
I have to admit, though, that I was grateful that Dean had only ask me to heal Sam's body, a difficult task by itself but doable, maybe, and not his soul because I would have had no idea where to start. The damage to the soul was absolute.
And still, the raw wounds were scabbed over, cords of scar tissue wound around the still bright light and it looked like Sam's soul had healed itself. At least enough to function.
After I'd seen Sam's soul I was terrified to have a look at his mind. The first second in this new vessel I had a glimpse of Sam's memories and I had no desire to see more of them. But I had no choice. Body and mind, they effected each other. I couldn't heal the body without knowing in what state the mind was.
I stalled for another second or so, painfully aware of Dean waiting at my side for a sign of life.
I steeled myself and then I opened my mind to Sam's.
Souls can't break. Minds can.
This one had been broken more than once. Shattered to pieces and put back together. How it was holding, how Sam was able to hold on to sanity I had no clue but my respect for this human grew.
It had been Dean who had gotten Sam's soul back and Sam had pieced his mind together for Dean, to not leave his brother out there alone, but it had been Sam who did it. It had been Sam who had taken the pieces of his own shattered mind and had put them back together.
The pieces didn't really fit anymore, there were cracks and little chips were missing and the whole thing just looked grotesque and fragile at the same time but Sam was sane.
After all he had been through, after all he had sacrificed and endured, Sam still felt empathy, still loved and cared. Somehow Sam was sane.
I opened my eyes, Sam's eyes, and found Dean staring right at me.
"Did it work?" He asked.
"It worked." I assured him and sat up.
"Can you heal him?"
"Over time." Not the answer he wanted to hear but the only one I could give him.
"Okay, let's get out of here."
I followed Dean out of the trashed room, leaving my old vessel behind.
I had no idea how this would end, if I would even survive. Not many did survive an encounter with the Winchester brothers, I knew that.
However, into the silence where Sam was sleeping I gave Sam Winchester my word to do whatever was necessary to bring him back to his brother. I owed him that much.
back to My Stories