1.53.1: It wasn't just sex...
"It wasn't just sex..."
Realm of the Muse
SPOILERS for 2x17 "Heart".
It wasn't just sex with Madison. He doesn't know how to explain it, but it wasn't just about sex. It was more than that. They'd clicked - the two of them. He'd never been upfront with girls, always too shy, too awkward; Dean was the one who breezed through, all charm and charisma. Sam had never been able to match that.
He was pretty sure he and Jess would have stayed friends forever if she hadn't been the one to make that first move. Either that or he'd have sat there until things got too awkward.
Like Madison. He was all bravado in front of Dean but when it came to it, Sam didn't do one night stands. He didn't do cheap pickup lines and a come hither smile. He sat on couches, awkward and out of place, wondering where the hell to start.
Her underwear drawer, he supposed, should have been a good indicator and the TV show she made him watch; in retrospect, he was totally played - and he still didn't take advantage of it.
It always would have been more because Madison was finishing what Sarah had started all those months ago, back in New York. She was opening him up again with her quirky boldness, her cheeky, knowing smile. She read the same books as he did; her house spoke of curiosity, education, an amazing person.
Sam didn't even know her favourite colour.
But even after they realised she was the werewolf they were hunting, even before the sex, she had meant something else. She didn't even know she was part monster. She didn't even know she was doing anything wrong - couldn't even control it.
Sam remembered what it felt like, helpless in his own body, a demon playing him so well even his own brother couldn't tell the difference. He remembers the horror of killing a man - remembered the taste of his blood. Remembered the adrenalin rush.
What they said about Madison, people like Gordon said about him.
Watching that sunrise was hope - Madison meant a second chance. If she could be saved, he might be too. If Dean could save her; he might be able to save him.
She was beautiful too - and he didn't think either of them expected it to be more than that one day, that one night - but it meant more than just bodies trying to find release. Hers was as much a thank you as anything else: thank you for saving her. Thanking him for giving her the rest of her life.
Thanking him for nothing.
Each of her soft gasps, her moans, hadn't been just about pleasure, but about a celebration of life itself.
And Sam…he'd let himself hope. For the first time since that demon had possessed him, he'd let himself hope that he could be saved. That maybe that darkness that clawed sometimes at the edge of his mind meant nothing. That maybe Dean's determination could save him - like his had saved her.
This is how you can save me.
A human heart is such a fickle thing. Who knew there was so much blood in it? Who knew it'd still try to pump with a hole through it, sending blood gushing out?
He was a good shot. She hadn't died instantly. Who could have known her heart would refuse to give up?
She'd died wearing his shirt, still smelling out him, his marks still on her cooling skin.
Crime of passion, he knew the police will say. Not that it really mattered anymore what anyone else would say.
She'd been more than another girl in another town. For a brief moment, she was more than just a person; she'd been hope itself. And he'd killed her with his own hands.
He couldn't save her. He couldn't save Jess or Dean, when he'd needed him, or Dad. Hell, he was the perfect hunter Dad had always wanted him to be and he still couldn't save them.
What right does that give him to be saved?
He wondered, sitting there, staring at her lifeless body, why she didn't kill him when she'd had the chance. He wondered, if she'd have turned him instead of going out that window, whether Dean would have shot him too. He wondered how different he really was from her, how different any of the Yellow-Eyed Demon's chosen children were any different to these werewolves.
I can't do it myself.
It wasn't actually that hard.
A gun in the mouth.
A bullet to the brain.
Instant death.
More mercy than he'd been able to give her.
~
Muse: Sam Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
Word Count: 762
Realm of the Muse
SPOILERS for 2x17 "Heart".
It wasn't just sex with Madison. He doesn't know how to explain it, but it wasn't just about sex. It was more than that. They'd clicked - the two of them. He'd never been upfront with girls, always too shy, too awkward; Dean was the one who breezed through, all charm and charisma. Sam had never been able to match that.
He was pretty sure he and Jess would have stayed friends forever if she hadn't been the one to make that first move. Either that or he'd have sat there until things got too awkward.
Like Madison. He was all bravado in front of Dean but when it came to it, Sam didn't do one night stands. He didn't do cheap pickup lines and a come hither smile. He sat on couches, awkward and out of place, wondering where the hell to start.
Her underwear drawer, he supposed, should have been a good indicator and the TV show she made him watch; in retrospect, he was totally played - and he still didn't take advantage of it.
It always would have been more because Madison was finishing what Sarah had started all those months ago, back in New York. She was opening him up again with her quirky boldness, her cheeky, knowing smile. She read the same books as he did; her house spoke of curiosity, education, an amazing person.
Sam didn't even know her favourite colour.
But even after they realised she was the werewolf they were hunting, even before the sex, she had meant something else. She didn't even know she was part monster. She didn't even know she was doing anything wrong - couldn't even control it.
Sam remembered what it felt like, helpless in his own body, a demon playing him so well even his own brother couldn't tell the difference. He remembers the horror of killing a man - remembered the taste of his blood. Remembered the adrenalin rush.
What they said about Madison, people like Gordon said about him.
Watching that sunrise was hope - Madison meant a second chance. If she could be saved, he might be too. If Dean could save her; he might be able to save him.
She was beautiful too - and he didn't think either of them expected it to be more than that one day, that one night - but it meant more than just bodies trying to find release. Hers was as much a thank you as anything else: thank you for saving her. Thanking him for giving her the rest of her life.
Thanking him for nothing.
Each of her soft gasps, her moans, hadn't been just about pleasure, but about a celebration of life itself.
And Sam…he'd let himself hope. For the first time since that demon had possessed him, he'd let himself hope that he could be saved. That maybe that darkness that clawed sometimes at the edge of his mind meant nothing. That maybe Dean's determination could save him - like his had saved her.
This is how you can save me.
A human heart is such a fickle thing. Who knew there was so much blood in it? Who knew it'd still try to pump with a hole through it, sending blood gushing out?
He was a good shot. She hadn't died instantly. Who could have known her heart would refuse to give up?
She'd died wearing his shirt, still smelling out him, his marks still on her cooling skin.
Crime of passion, he knew the police will say. Not that it really mattered anymore what anyone else would say.
She'd been more than another girl in another town. For a brief moment, she was more than just a person; she'd been hope itself. And he'd killed her with his own hands.
He couldn't save her. He couldn't save Jess or Dean, when he'd needed him, or Dad. Hell, he was the perfect hunter Dad had always wanted him to be and he still couldn't save them.
What right does that give him to be saved?
He wondered, sitting there, staring at her lifeless body, why she didn't kill him when she'd had the chance. He wondered, if she'd have turned him instead of going out that window, whether Dean would have shot him too. He wondered how different he really was from her, how different any of the Yellow-Eyed Demon's chosen children were any different to these werewolves.
I can't do it myself.
It wasn't actually that hard.
A gun in the mouth.
A bullet to the brain.
Instant death.
More mercy than he'd been able to give her.
~
Muse: Sam Winchester
Fandom: Supernatural
Word Count: 762