Exorcise your Demons - Dean, (Sam) - PG - [1/1]
Title: Exorcise Your Demons -1/1 - Complete
Author: force-oblique
Rating: Gen, PG
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Dean,Sam - Dean POV, mention of other characters
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary:"Because, honestly, if you could ever be prepared to murder your own brother, which would feel like ripping your heart out through your throat, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just kill yourself or let Sam kill you, if the world’s safety and salvation depended on it?"
{~Faint Connection with Hade's Gates & Bleed The Skies}
Author's Notes:This combines Dean's fears of both becoming a demon and losing Sam to the other side. But nothing scares him more than himself.
- English is not my native language so excuse any crappiness and/or mistakes!
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to:
[1] ellie-fo-20: as an early birthday present baby! <3 ilu
[2] crystalchain: because I have never dedicated anything to you hunni and maybe it could make you feel better? *hugs*
EXORCISE YOUR DEMONS
May 2008
For a spare moment he stirs.
It feels as if he has fallen into a deep sleep. Only he hasn't.
He never sleeps deeply. He never sleeps actually, not really.
Not since that day on which he grasped the real meaning of this.
Of what he did, what he gave up.
.... He could still remember the sourness in his mouth, the constriction in his chest as if he was getting smaller and smaller or the world around him was becoming bigger, gloomy,ominous.
But even if the world was really like this, horrible, vile.. It still hurt to give it up.
Even a world like this.
As filled with monsters and demons and threats as any nightmare.
And it still hurt to give up his life.
Even a life like his own.
Even a life as limited, burdened and soaked in regret as liquid as the tears he refused to shed.
Oh yes, it still hurt, but Dean Winchester found solace in the thought that he was not actually giving up, but rather that he was passing on his legacy, his dreams and his essence to the only person who could truly appreciate them.
His brother.
If only one of them could come out of this whole mess alive, wasn't Sam the wiser choice?
Wasn't he the strongest, the smartest, the more efficient?
Wasn't he the one who always got things done and not in the messy way, Dean usually chose?
Wasn't Sam the one everyone loved and respected and liked?
Wasn't Sam the brother with the brains and the bigshot powers?
Wasn't Sam the brother who deserved to live?
And wasn't Dean deemed to be the reckless one, the frivolous one? - And with good reason.
“As obedient as an attack dog” Wasn't that what his nightmare-self had said?
Blind, dogmatic...
And he really was obedient.
He really did thi-ngs no questions asked, because sometimes the answers hurt and it was better if they were left alone.
Sometimes, even the questions themselves hurt and burned and Dean couldn't allow himself to be put through this.
He couldn't have any doubts, hesitations or second thoughts.
That was how he lived his life. That was how he was taught to live his life.
And it was satisfactory up until that point. So why this now? Why the regret?
...Then again, his father wasn't here to guide him anymore.
John wasn't here to instill his wisdom and his clarity into his son's mind like he used to.
Now, instead of clarity there was confusion.
Instead of purpose there was mayhem and a feeling that he had lost his goal somewhere along the way.
It seemed as if he really were:“A good soldier and nothing else”
... And honestly did he feel like anything more than that?
Dean closed his eyes exhaling, as if air had just become so hot it burned him from the inside.
It was dark, so dark it rendered it difficult to make out anything other than the shape of his own hands hugging around his body out of reflex or out of fear.
It was cold, but Dean couldn't decide which of the two was the most chilling.
The room temperature or the thought of him becoming what he hated the most.
A Demon.
A hideous abomination of what was once human and decent and normal..
But, as he recalled his demon-self from his vision, it made his stomach turn.
Black eyes staring back at him.
Not blinking, not looking away.
Just the harsh, unembellished truth staring him in the face.
And all he wanted to do was hide, but it was hard.
Because it is hard to move when you are paralyzed from fear, when you are petrified; but still he took the easy way out.
Pretend, just pretend to be brave and unafraid.
"If you fake it long enough, you might grow to believe it".
And pretend he did.
Only he didn't have long enough to fake it this time.
Only a few weeks and he wasn't that good of an actor.
Not when Sam looked at him with these big green eyes of his, filled with all the love they shared for each other and all the trust and devotion he could read in them.
Dammit, it made him angry! Why couldn't things just be different?
He felt like unleashing his fury, his anger, the wrath that had been building steadily inside of him for a destiny which wasn't his.
For a path he was never meant to travel.
So in his vision, he shot his nightmare self again and again, hoping it would dissolve into a pile of dust that could hurt him no more.
But still, that wasn't enough.
He shivered as he remembered that split seconds before Sam helped him snap out of his trance, his other self had risen again more powerful than ever.
Aiming to hurt, to cause pain, to maim him completely...
Wishing to cripple him physically, as well as psychologically.
Dean had heard about Hell. He had seen movies, he had read books, but most importantly he had read his father's journal.
Why would every demon struggle to break free of Hell if it were their natural habitat or their niche?
Sam could not remember it, of course, because he was possessed by “Meg” when Dean exorcised him, but she had said “Hell is like Hell even for demons”.
The mere meaning of this was enough to make him shiver.
So, Dean expected the worst.
Scorching flames, chains, whippings and torment which would be as unendurable as it would be unthinkable.
But with his brother's steady breathing coming from the bed next to him, his point of reference, he decided that it was worth it.
He was afraid, terrified and he knew he didn't deserve that ending, but he had seen enough of life to know that it could be a lot of things, fair wasn't one of them.
And there he was restless and shivering, finding himself whispering prayers long-forgotten.
Prayers and blessings his mother had told him when he was little.
Her soft breath through his hair, the warmth of the inside of her palm on his shoulder, something comforting instead of the cold embrace of the death that was coming...
And maybe he had one thing to long for...
Meet with his mother.
Only, he didn't even have that.
There is no way his mother could ever have ended in Hell...
And the only reason his father ended up there was because of him.
So, would he really be happy to see him?
Which one would it be? And would his father even recognize him? What had happened to him, to the fearless Hunter John Winchester?
Would he be proud of his eldest when he would see him locked into the dungeons of hell?
Would he be proud of his choices?
After all, Sam had died and there was no way John could have ever left one of his sons be lost like this.
He had done the same for Dean, so wasn't it Dean's turn to save Sam?
But would he look at it that way or would he think him incompetent because he couldn't protect his little brother?
Dean still remembered what his dad had told him right before he gave his life up for him.
"Watch out for your little brother , but remember, you might need to kill him.
You need to be able to kill him if the need arises. Don't let him turn fully demonic because there's no telling what he might do"
And for a split second he had believed it.
If his own father was suggesting that Sam could turn evil, who was he to ignore it and refuse it?
But he knew Sam, in the way only a brother knows his sibling.
Losing their mother had made them rely on each other so much, that they even breathed for each other, so how was he supposed to be able to kill his own flesh and blood?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Present Day ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean Winchester grinned a bitter grin remembering his thoughts a few months earlier. Before descending to Hell. Before seeing, tasting, feeling, experiencing what no human being should be made to go through...
Yes it hurt even back then. It made his head throb and ache for answers and comfort, one that never came...
Back then, he couldn't think of anything worse than that. Going to Hell and leaving his brother alone to face everything.
And even worse, having to face his father or his true colors once faced with real pain and real torture.
And what if in all this he had missed something? What if what of him came back from Hell wasn't 100% him? What if he was the carrier of a power, a presence more sinister than Sam could ever be, or both of them could ever imagine?
Something despicable, unthinkable, insurmountable?
It made his blood run cold through his veins as he thought to himself:
And what if you have it all backwards? What if you were wrong?
What if you got the wrong idea when your dad told you to watch out for Sammy?
Did he know something? Was he given this special oracle power only the goners acquire?
To see the future for oh so briefly, unable to do anything to change it and without enough time to come to terms with it?
Did he know you would be the one to end up in hell, Dean? he thought.
Did he mean he had to be careful not to be hurt by his brother or was it meant to act as a decoy?
Did he mean that he should be careful not to hurt Sammy?
And when his father told him he might need to kill his brother, did he mean just that or was it meant to prepare him for something even worse?
"Because, honestly, if you could ever be prepared to murder your own brother, which would feel like ripping your heart out through your throat, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just kill yourself or let Sam kill you, if the world’s safety and salvation depended on it?" he thought.
Because in hell it wasn’t like he only broke under pressure.
He did not only show himself to be a coward".
No, he went all the way to the other side giving in to the mind games, giving his dignity over to them and then he went on to rob the dignity of others, making them scream like he once screamed.
"Making them cry like you once cried and you were the last face they saw before their ultimate downfall" His inner self kept probing.
"Was that what you wanted to become, Dean?".
"Somebody’s nightmare? Somebody’s horror? The face that makes them cringe?"
"Don’t cry. Shedding tears won’t help you now. It’s the easy way out." he felt his inner voice tell him as hot tears started trickling down his cheek.
"You think every time you cry some of your guilt washes out, that your shame will eventually ooze out?"
"You are wrong. What leaves your body is just a little human bodily fluid but it’s ok".
"Because you won’t be human for much longer".
"Because blackness is forever inside of you now.
It has attached itself to the surface of your insides like a case enveloping what you have left of your soul, smothering it though that doesn’t do much".
"You have already killed your soul, Dean, in hell, little by little, and what’s left inside of you is morsels of divinity, morsels of humanity.
Because you don’t even feel human anymore, do you?" the bitter voice kept on.
"Yes, you have the same habits, the food, the music, the girls, but nothing tastes the same anymore".
"It seems that you have somehow lost your human taste buds and you are desperate to feel like before, only you can’t".
"The only thing that hasn’t changed is the love you have for your brother, strong, undeniable like a thread holding everything together, the backbone of your everything and you hold on to it with all your might, everything that you have, everything that you are, shameful or not, because you know he won’t mind".
"There’s darkness in him too, only he didn’t give in to it.
Still, you see it flickering. He takes pride every time he uses his powers, impervious to the fact that this brings him closer to the edge from which you tried to distance him".
"But, God knows you love your brother. The love you have for him is the only thing they didn’t manage to take from you. But what if it isn’t enough, Dean? What then?"
"What if it’s you who is going to gradually go crazy, distinguishing more and more shades of grey, growing darker and darker until everything goes black?
Have you thought about that?".
"Are you really that strong to resist this tendency, this temptation?"
"Hell has a way of rubbing off on you. Why should you be an exception?" his own doubt snickered.
"Of course you were told that you have been chosen by God as some sort of Champion, but what if it’s all make-believe?"
"Are you His champion or His charity case, feeding you false hope till you are finally officially put out of your misery, disillusioned and pitiful?"
"You know most of the time you were the decisive one, shooting when Sam hesitated, moving past your doubts when Sam was overly cautious, but can you really do it now?"
“If you gradually become darker, gloomier, erratic and dangerous what will become of Sam?
The sweet, gentle Sam who would believe in anything just so that you would stay there by his side, no matter the cost, and who would lay his life on the line for you?”
“So, what if you turn truly demonic, hell and the weight of what you were put through, taking their toll on you?”
“What if you become dangerous, a threat to him and to the world like a nuclear holocaust in the making, a plague, an explosion from the inside, where everyone forgot to look?”
“Would you find the strength to do it? Would you be able to push him away far enough for him to stop caring?”
“Would you find the courage to sacrifice your life for the greater good again knowing that hell is probably where you will end up for the second time and this time for good?”
“Would you find it in your heart assuming you still had one once everything had gone down, to approach your brother without hurting him? “
“Would you find the strength to resist your now enhanced and overpowering base instincts and be near him without causing him any harm other than the heartache Sam would feel to see you turn evil?”
“Would you really bear to look into your brother's eyes and not falter, not collapse because the monster now would be you?”
“Would you be able to do all that looking him in the eye, seeing the pain and the anguish that this whole process will put him through?” his inner self went on.
“Would you find the strength to say the same words you have said dozens of times before: ”Exorcise the demons, Sam. Go Latin on them”.
Just say: Exorcise your demons boy and mean it this time, because this time the demon will be you…
And then close your eyes….”
~ Fin ~
If you liked this, read more SPN fiction
Banner made by Serena herm-weasley (hehe it was my header before this one)
Comments are love and tickle the muse! ^^
Author: force-oblique
Rating: Gen, PG
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Dean,Sam - Dean POV, mention of other characters
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary:"Because, honestly, if you could ever be prepared to murder your own brother, which would feel like ripping your heart out through your throat, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just kill yourself or let Sam kill you, if the world’s safety and salvation depended on it?"
{~Faint Connection with Hade's Gates & Bleed The Skies}
Author's Notes:This combines Dean's fears of both becoming a demon and losing Sam to the other side. But nothing scares him more than himself.
- English is not my native language so excuse any crappiness and/or mistakes!
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to:
[1] ellie-fo-20: as an early birthday present baby! <3 ilu
[2] crystalchain: because I have never dedicated anything to you hunni and maybe it could make you feel better? *hugs*
EXORCISE YOUR DEMONS
May 2008
For a spare moment he stirs.
It feels as if he has fallen into a deep sleep. Only he hasn't.
He never sleeps deeply. He never sleeps actually, not really.
Not since that day on which he grasped the real meaning of this.
Of what he did, what he gave up.
.... He could still remember the sourness in his mouth, the constriction in his chest as if he was getting smaller and smaller or the world around him was becoming bigger, gloomy,ominous.
But even if the world was really like this, horrible, vile.. It still hurt to give it up.
Even a world like this.
As filled with monsters and demons and threats as any nightmare.
And it still hurt to give up his life.
Even a life like his own.
Even a life as limited, burdened and soaked in regret as liquid as the tears he refused to shed.
Oh yes, it still hurt, but Dean Winchester found solace in the thought that he was not actually giving up, but rather that he was passing on his legacy, his dreams and his essence to the only person who could truly appreciate them.
His brother.
If only one of them could come out of this whole mess alive, wasn't Sam the wiser choice?
Wasn't he the strongest, the smartest, the more efficient?
Wasn't he the one who always got things done and not in the messy way, Dean usually chose?
Wasn't Sam the one everyone loved and respected and liked?
Wasn't Sam the brother with the brains and the bigshot powers?
Wasn't Sam the brother who deserved to live?
And wasn't Dean deemed to be the reckless one, the frivolous one? - And with good reason.
“As obedient as an attack dog” Wasn't that what his nightmare-self had said?
Blind, dogmatic...
And he really was obedient.
He really did thi-ngs no questions asked, because sometimes the answers hurt and it was better if they were left alone.
Sometimes, even the questions themselves hurt and burned and Dean couldn't allow himself to be put through this.
He couldn't have any doubts, hesitations or second thoughts.
That was how he lived his life. That was how he was taught to live his life.
And it was satisfactory up until that point. So why this now? Why the regret?
...Then again, his father wasn't here to guide him anymore.
John wasn't here to instill his wisdom and his clarity into his son's mind like he used to.
Now, instead of clarity there was confusion.
Instead of purpose there was mayhem and a feeling that he had lost his goal somewhere along the way.
It seemed as if he really were:“A good soldier and nothing else”
... And honestly did he feel like anything more than that?
Dean closed his eyes exhaling, as if air had just become so hot it burned him from the inside.
It was dark, so dark it rendered it difficult to make out anything other than the shape of his own hands hugging around his body out of reflex or out of fear.
It was cold, but Dean couldn't decide which of the two was the most chilling.
The room temperature or the thought of him becoming what he hated the most.
A Demon.
A hideous abomination of what was once human and decent and normal..
But, as he recalled his demon-self from his vision, it made his stomach turn.
Black eyes staring back at him.
Not blinking, not looking away.
Just the harsh, unembellished truth staring him in the face.
And all he wanted to do was hide, but it was hard.
Because it is hard to move when you are paralyzed from fear, when you are petrified; but still he took the easy way out.
Pretend, just pretend to be brave and unafraid.
"If you fake it long enough, you might grow to believe it".
And pretend he did.
Only he didn't have long enough to fake it this time.
Only a few weeks and he wasn't that good of an actor.
Not when Sam looked at him with these big green eyes of his, filled with all the love they shared for each other and all the trust and devotion he could read in them.
Dammit, it made him angry! Why couldn't things just be different?
He felt like unleashing his fury, his anger, the wrath that had been building steadily inside of him for a destiny which wasn't his.
For a path he was never meant to travel.
So in his vision, he shot his nightmare self again and again, hoping it would dissolve into a pile of dust that could hurt him no more.
But still, that wasn't enough.
He shivered as he remembered that split seconds before Sam helped him snap out of his trance, his other self had risen again more powerful than ever.
Aiming to hurt, to cause pain, to maim him completely...
Wishing to cripple him physically, as well as psychologically.
Dean had heard about Hell. He had seen movies, he had read books, but most importantly he had read his father's journal.
Why would every demon struggle to break free of Hell if it were their natural habitat or their niche?
Sam could not remember it, of course, because he was possessed by “Meg” when Dean exorcised him, but she had said “Hell is like Hell even for demons”.
The mere meaning of this was enough to make him shiver.
So, Dean expected the worst.
Scorching flames, chains, whippings and torment which would be as unendurable as it would be unthinkable.
But with his brother's steady breathing coming from the bed next to him, his point of reference, he decided that it was worth it.
He was afraid, terrified and he knew he didn't deserve that ending, but he had seen enough of life to know that it could be a lot of things, fair wasn't one of them.
And there he was restless and shivering, finding himself whispering prayers long-forgotten.
Prayers and blessings his mother had told him when he was little.
Her soft breath through his hair, the warmth of the inside of her palm on his shoulder, something comforting instead of the cold embrace of the death that was coming...
And maybe he had one thing to long for...
Meet with his mother.
Only, he didn't even have that.
There is no way his mother could ever have ended in Hell...
And the only reason his father ended up there was because of him.
So, would he really be happy to see him?
Which one would it be? And would his father even recognize him? What had happened to him, to the fearless Hunter John Winchester?
Would he be proud of his eldest when he would see him locked into the dungeons of hell?
Would he be proud of his choices?
After all, Sam had died and there was no way John could have ever left one of his sons be lost like this.
He had done the same for Dean, so wasn't it Dean's turn to save Sam?
But would he look at it that way or would he think him incompetent because he couldn't protect his little brother?
Dean still remembered what his dad had told him right before he gave his life up for him.
"Watch out for your little brother , but remember, you might need to kill him.
You need to be able to kill him if the need arises. Don't let him turn fully demonic because there's no telling what he might do"
And for a split second he had believed it.
If his own father was suggesting that Sam could turn evil, who was he to ignore it and refuse it?
But he knew Sam, in the way only a brother knows his sibling.
Losing their mother had made them rely on each other so much, that they even breathed for each other, so how was he supposed to be able to kill his own flesh and blood?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Present Day ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean Winchester grinned a bitter grin remembering his thoughts a few months earlier. Before descending to Hell. Before seeing, tasting, feeling, experiencing what no human being should be made to go through...
Yes it hurt even back then. It made his head throb and ache for answers and comfort, one that never came...
Back then, he couldn't think of anything worse than that. Going to Hell and leaving his brother alone to face everything.
And even worse, having to face his father or his true colors once faced with real pain and real torture.
And what if in all this he had missed something? What if what of him came back from Hell wasn't 100% him? What if he was the carrier of a power, a presence more sinister than Sam could ever be, or both of them could ever imagine?
Something despicable, unthinkable, insurmountable?
It made his blood run cold through his veins as he thought to himself:
And what if you have it all backwards? What if you were wrong?
What if you got the wrong idea when your dad told you to watch out for Sammy?
Did he know something? Was he given this special oracle power only the goners acquire?
To see the future for oh so briefly, unable to do anything to change it and without enough time to come to terms with it?
Did he know you would be the one to end up in hell, Dean? he thought.
Did he mean he had to be careful not to be hurt by his brother or was it meant to act as a decoy?
Did he mean that he should be careful not to hurt Sammy?
And when his father told him he might need to kill his brother, did he mean just that or was it meant to prepare him for something even worse?
"Because, honestly, if you could ever be prepared to murder your own brother, which would feel like ripping your heart out through your throat, wouldn’t it be easier for you to just kill yourself or let Sam kill you, if the world’s safety and salvation depended on it?" he thought.
Because in hell it wasn’t like he only broke under pressure.
He did not only show himself to be a coward".
No, he went all the way to the other side giving in to the mind games, giving his dignity over to them and then he went on to rob the dignity of others, making them scream like he once screamed.
"Making them cry like you once cried and you were the last face they saw before their ultimate downfall" His inner self kept probing.
"Was that what you wanted to become, Dean?".
"Somebody’s nightmare? Somebody’s horror? The face that makes them cringe?"
"Don’t cry. Shedding tears won’t help you now. It’s the easy way out." he felt his inner voice tell him as hot tears started trickling down his cheek.
"You think every time you cry some of your guilt washes out, that your shame will eventually ooze out?"
"You are wrong. What leaves your body is just a little human bodily fluid but it’s ok".
"Because you won’t be human for much longer".
"Because blackness is forever inside of you now.
It has attached itself to the surface of your insides like a case enveloping what you have left of your soul, smothering it though that doesn’t do much".
"You have already killed your soul, Dean, in hell, little by little, and what’s left inside of you is morsels of divinity, morsels of humanity.
Because you don’t even feel human anymore, do you?" the bitter voice kept on.
"Yes, you have the same habits, the food, the music, the girls, but nothing tastes the same anymore".
"It seems that you have somehow lost your human taste buds and you are desperate to feel like before, only you can’t".
"The only thing that hasn’t changed is the love you have for your brother, strong, undeniable like a thread holding everything together, the backbone of your everything and you hold on to it with all your might, everything that you have, everything that you are, shameful or not, because you know he won’t mind".
"There’s darkness in him too, only he didn’t give in to it.
Still, you see it flickering. He takes pride every time he uses his powers, impervious to the fact that this brings him closer to the edge from which you tried to distance him".
"But, God knows you love your brother. The love you have for him is the only thing they didn’t manage to take from you. But what if it isn’t enough, Dean? What then?"
"What if it’s you who is going to gradually go crazy, distinguishing more and more shades of grey, growing darker and darker until everything goes black?
Have you thought about that?".
"Are you really that strong to resist this tendency, this temptation?"
"Hell has a way of rubbing off on you. Why should you be an exception?" his own doubt snickered.
"Of course you were told that you have been chosen by God as some sort of Champion, but what if it’s all make-believe?"
"Are you His champion or His charity case, feeding you false hope till you are finally officially put out of your misery, disillusioned and pitiful?"
"You know most of the time you were the decisive one, shooting when Sam hesitated, moving past your doubts when Sam was overly cautious, but can you really do it now?"
“If you gradually become darker, gloomier, erratic and dangerous what will become of Sam?
The sweet, gentle Sam who would believe in anything just so that you would stay there by his side, no matter the cost, and who would lay his life on the line for you?”
“So, what if you turn truly demonic, hell and the weight of what you were put through, taking their toll on you?”
“What if you become dangerous, a threat to him and to the world like a nuclear holocaust in the making, a plague, an explosion from the inside, where everyone forgot to look?”
“Would you find the strength to do it? Would you be able to push him away far enough for him to stop caring?”
“Would you find the courage to sacrifice your life for the greater good again knowing that hell is probably where you will end up for the second time and this time for good?”
“Would you find it in your heart assuming you still had one once everything had gone down, to approach your brother without hurting him? “
“Would you find the strength to resist your now enhanced and overpowering base instincts and be near him without causing him any harm other than the heartache Sam would feel to see you turn evil?”
“Would you really bear to look into your brother's eyes and not falter, not collapse because the monster now would be you?”
“Would you be able to do all that looking him in the eye, seeing the pain and the anguish that this whole process will put him through?” his inner self went on.
“Would you find the strength to say the same words you have said dozens of times before: ”Exorcise the demons, Sam. Go Latin on them”.
Just say: Exorcise your demons boy and mean it this time, because this time the demon will be you…
And then close your eyes….”
~ Fin ~
If you liked this, read more SPN fiction
Banner made by Serena herm-weasley (hehe it was my header before this one)
Comments are love and tickle the muse! ^^