Fic: Human?
Title: Human?
Author: KliqzAngel
Verse: Sequel to Hurt, Abandoned, and Alone
Characters: Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, mentions of Dean Winchester
Content: Gen (Will become Wincest in later stories though), Dead-UnDead-ish!Bobby, Hardened!Sam, Missing!Dean, Wimpering!Demon
Rating: PG-13
Song: Human by Metallica
Notes: The musi are telling me Wincest will be coming in later stories and apparently yes this is going to become a ‘Verse. (As if I need another one!) Just a reminder, Bobby is dead. He’s some strange ghost/guardian combination for Sam so he isn’t human anymore.
Summary: As Sam tries to get information on his brother's location, he wrestles with the idea that he's not sure he cares if he becomes the things he's killing, without his big brother. Emotions are just a memory, and Bobby's worried he's not gonna be able to keep Sam on the right side of the line.
Sam stood in the middle of a field, in front of him on his knees a man was pleading for his life. Only faintly though did he hear the sound of his cries for mercy though as if they were coming from far away, even though he was right in front of him. Behind him, Sam was not sure exactly where, because he wasn’t about to turn around and check, was Bobby, screaming for Sam to stop what he was doing and think. Bloodlust ran fast and heavy through Sam’s veins like the whiskey he’d drunk earlier, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d truly become his father.
Death was inconsequential to him anymore. Life wasn’t really all that it was cracked up to be, so he couldn’t imagine how death could be worse. He moved most days on some strange hyperaware autopilot. Moving automatically, but incredibly sensitive to what was going on around him.
He tried not to think of Dean.
He wasn’t sure anymore why not; because he didn’t feel so, it wasn’t as if he could be hurt. Somewhere in his psyche, he was sure Dean was going to be nothing but disappointed once he got him back. He’d hate what Sam had become, but truthfully there was little Sam could have done about it. Something soft and gentle inside his head called him a liar, telling him things would be ok once he got Dean back. Telling him the dams would break, but it would be ok, he just needed to get Dean back first. He didn’t know the voice though, didn’t believe that it was his own conscience, but at the same time, didn’t want to believe it wasn’t his conscience either. It sounded too real to be just his own mind trying to reassure him though, and these days Sam knew the difference.
Their lives had always been about protecting him. The mantra “watch out for your brother, Dean,” had been so familiar to them that Dean hadn’t needed to hear it to understand the order long before death finally prevented his father from saying it. Isolation had taken its toll on Dean Winchester’s little brother, and Sam doubted Dean’d even want what was left of him back once Sam saved him.
Sam knew if he looked down, he’d see a line beneath his feet. That last act that would separate him from heavenly forgiveness and everlasting love and the burning fires of hell and eternal damnation.
Some days he wasn’t sure that he still had a soul left to lose to hell.
Some days he wondered if he’d ever had a soul to lose to hell.
Some days he wondered if hell wasn’t right where he wanted to be anyway.
Sam’s life was about getting his brother back, and he couldn’t quite push off the fear that Dean was already dead and burning in the hellfire and brimstone. This thing quivering and sobbing in front of him disguising itself as a man thought he was dumb enough not to know the monster that lay within the human flesh.
Sam was more than aware of what could hide inside living skin cells that hadn’t been there to begin with.
He knew the demon was inside. He knew it had the answers that he was looking for, and he wasn’t really squeamish about doing whatever it took to get them.
He took the knife out from its sheath at his side, and held the tip of the blade under the man’s jaw. “I know you’re in there,” Sam said softly, coldly, the wind swirling around them as if it was being controlled, but the weather was one of the few things Sam didn’t have power over, if he so chose. Not long after his brother had disappeared, Sam finally embraced the powers within him. The powers that were always there and not the demon fed one that caused him such pain. It had come back as well, the visions he'd always and still did consider more of a curse than a blessing, but even that had been embraced, as Sam straddled that line, never able to decide if his soul was with saving without his brother.
“I know you’re in there, you can’t hide from me,” Sam whispered again his words coming out as almost dark snarls, his grip tightening in the man’s hair. “I don’t know why we are playing this game. We both know it isn’t going to go your way, so why fight the inevitable?”
“You may kill me now, but they will torture me for eternity if I give you your answers,” the man snarled, eyes turned to solid black, the demon inside giving up its charade.
“Are you so sure about that?” Sam asked lips turning upward in a humorless smile. “Do I seem to care to you if my soul becomes damned to hell? What do you think will happen to hell if I come down to play?”
The demon opened the human’s mouth to answer, but stopped as the knife tip pressed deeper, cutting into the flesh, making the human bleed before the demon’s evil healed it.
“Sam, Goddamnit! Stop that crap right now and just do what we’re here for!” Bobby screamed angrily, the concern and fear for what Sam was slowly becoming without Dean to reel him in, evident in his voice.
“Where is Dean?” Sam asked the question, not a new one this evening and Sam was getting tired of asking. Just as he’d decided that he didn’t care if it took him on a one-way trip south, the demon said the only thing that could save its life.
“He’s alive!” It offered, and because of his abilities, Sam felt the truth of its words. “Where?” Sam snarled, and the creature shrieked as the knife slipped in further its magical powers hurting demon as much as human. “WHERE?” Sam hollered ready to plunge the knife in fully and damn everything before the demon decided to take a not so graceful exit. The human mouth opening, the black cloud exiting his body and Sam’s hand flexed on the handle of the blade, itching to finish what he’d started despite the demon’s now absence from flesh.
From nowhere a flash of Dean sitting in the Impala, cocky smile on his face as he told him, “driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole,” went through Sam’s brain breaking him for not the first time in places new and old. Tossing the knife to one side, Sam put a hand under the man’s chin and healed the wound, feeling a twinge under his own jaw as he did so, his flesh becoming red and aching from what would appear for a few days to be a healing wound.
Once the human was healed, Sam stood and turned to walk away not concerned with how the man would get to safety. “Death Valley,” he heard though before he could leave and turning back eyed the man, weighting his words. “He went there once when he was using me. Your brother is in Death Valley, chained up in a cave, as they try and turn him into one of them.”
Narrowing his eyes Sam moved back to the man and hauled him to his feet. “You can show me?” Sam asked feeling the fear still going through the man. He was Sam thought, smart enough to know he wasn’t quite saved yet.
“Yes, I’ve been there,” the man promised, his knees weakening as the tears came again, unsure what he’d done to deserve all this.
“And you’re sure he’s alive?” Sam asked and the man nodded frantically.
“Yes, he’s alive. They’ve tried to kill him, but he won’t die.”
“What the fuck do you mean he won’t die?” Sam asked hotly, not understanding what the man was saying. Dean wasn’t like him; Dean wasn’t a real freak, just a human one, the kind of freak all hunters were.
“He won’t die,” the man insisted. “They try and he just heals. The, the one that was in me, he thought it was because of you. You’re saving your brother. You’re keeping him alive.”
“Get in the car, in the back,” Sam ordered shoving the man towards where the Impala sat waiting for him to come back to it. Watching the man stumble across the field, Sam waited for the thrill to come, for the hope to rekindle, but nothing.
“Sam, we’ll find him,” Bobby assured hovering just next to Sam’s right shoulder.
When Sam’s dead brown eyes turned to look at him, Bobby flinched, or would have if he still knew how. Not for the first time he wondered if, once they got Dean back, they wouldn’t have to then save Sam. Some days he wondered if there was anything left to even save. The Sam Winchester that stood before him, five years alone in the world, could make John look like a puppy huggin’ peace lovin’ hippie. Emotion rarely entered Sam’s equation these days, even when he was threatening something or someone intent on getting answers, it was methodical, because he knew that was the only way to get answers, not emotional, done out of anger or desperation.
Bobby just hoped that the old Sam or at least some part of him was still inside safely tucked away from the rest of them. ‘Cause if it wasn’t, Dean was gonna bring him back to live just so he could kill him again.
Reaching back, Sam pulled the tie out of his hair, freeing his long brown waves a headache present, but barely felt. In the old days, it would have brought him to his knees, but now, maybe because he knew no one was there to care for him while suffered its pain, Sam absorbed it unflinchingly, taking the pain and making himself harder, stronger with it.
“Your brother will be proud of you, Sam,” Bobby said softly and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something, but it was gone so quick he decided that it was wishful thinking.
“If that man is right, then demons have been torturing my brother trying any way they can to kill him for the last five years. What makes you think he’ll still feel anything when I get him back?” Sam asked turning those eyes back to the car as he finally moved making his way into the driver’s seat.
Reaching for the tape hovering in the mouth of the tape player, Sam paused looking out at the dark road before him. “I don’t feel and they haven’t touched me once.”
Before he could answer though, Metallica blared from the speakers.
Don't you leave me Father Time
Take me with you
Tell me does your sun still shine
Come squeeze the world and drip it down my throat again
Down my throat again.... woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for,
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for
Air
Touch me so I think I'm here
Skin my senses
Barely breathing
Minus Human
Please squeeze the world and drip it down my throat again
ooah Down my throat again..... woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for,
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for
Air
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for,
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for!
Putting the car in drive, Sam floored it pulling back out onto the road. ‘Death Valley, how fitting.’ He thought to himself briefly, and then didn’t think of anything that didn’t include what he’d do to the demons once he got his brother back, until he had to.
Beside him, Bobby watched and grew more concerned the closer that they got.
Author: KliqzAngel
Verse: Sequel to Hurt, Abandoned, and Alone
Characters: Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, mentions of Dean Winchester
Content: Gen (Will become Wincest in later stories though), Dead-UnDead-ish!Bobby, Hardened!Sam, Missing!Dean, Wimpering!Demon
Rating: PG-13
Song: Human by Metallica
Notes: The musi are telling me Wincest will be coming in later stories and apparently yes this is going to become a ‘Verse. (As if I need another one!) Just a reminder, Bobby is dead. He’s some strange ghost/guardian combination for Sam so he isn’t human anymore.
Summary: As Sam tries to get information on his brother's location, he wrestles with the idea that he's not sure he cares if he becomes the things he's killing, without his big brother. Emotions are just a memory, and Bobby's worried he's not gonna be able to keep Sam on the right side of the line.
Sam stood in the middle of a field, in front of him on his knees a man was pleading for his life. Only faintly though did he hear the sound of his cries for mercy though as if they were coming from far away, even though he was right in front of him. Behind him, Sam was not sure exactly where, because he wasn’t about to turn around and check, was Bobby, screaming for Sam to stop what he was doing and think. Bloodlust ran fast and heavy through Sam’s veins like the whiskey he’d drunk earlier, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d truly become his father.
Death was inconsequential to him anymore. Life wasn’t really all that it was cracked up to be, so he couldn’t imagine how death could be worse. He moved most days on some strange hyperaware autopilot. Moving automatically, but incredibly sensitive to what was going on around him.
He tried not to think of Dean.
He wasn’t sure anymore why not; because he didn’t feel so, it wasn’t as if he could be hurt. Somewhere in his psyche, he was sure Dean was going to be nothing but disappointed once he got him back. He’d hate what Sam had become, but truthfully there was little Sam could have done about it. Something soft and gentle inside his head called him a liar, telling him things would be ok once he got Dean back. Telling him the dams would break, but it would be ok, he just needed to get Dean back first. He didn’t know the voice though, didn’t believe that it was his own conscience, but at the same time, didn’t want to believe it wasn’t his conscience either. It sounded too real to be just his own mind trying to reassure him though, and these days Sam knew the difference.
Their lives had always been about protecting him. The mantra “watch out for your brother, Dean,” had been so familiar to them that Dean hadn’t needed to hear it to understand the order long before death finally prevented his father from saying it. Isolation had taken its toll on Dean Winchester’s little brother, and Sam doubted Dean’d even want what was left of him back once Sam saved him.
Sam knew if he looked down, he’d see a line beneath his feet. That last act that would separate him from heavenly forgiveness and everlasting love and the burning fires of hell and eternal damnation.
Some days he wasn’t sure that he still had a soul left to lose to hell.
Some days he wondered if he’d ever had a soul to lose to hell.
Some days he wondered if hell wasn’t right where he wanted to be anyway.
Sam’s life was about getting his brother back, and he couldn’t quite push off the fear that Dean was already dead and burning in the hellfire and brimstone. This thing quivering and sobbing in front of him disguising itself as a man thought he was dumb enough not to know the monster that lay within the human flesh.
Sam was more than aware of what could hide inside living skin cells that hadn’t been there to begin with.
He knew the demon was inside. He knew it had the answers that he was looking for, and he wasn’t really squeamish about doing whatever it took to get them.
He took the knife out from its sheath at his side, and held the tip of the blade under the man’s jaw. “I know you’re in there,” Sam said softly, coldly, the wind swirling around them as if it was being controlled, but the weather was one of the few things Sam didn’t have power over, if he so chose. Not long after his brother had disappeared, Sam finally embraced the powers within him. The powers that were always there and not the demon fed one that caused him such pain. It had come back as well, the visions he'd always and still did consider more of a curse than a blessing, but even that had been embraced, as Sam straddled that line, never able to decide if his soul was with saving without his brother.
“I know you’re in there, you can’t hide from me,” Sam whispered again his words coming out as almost dark snarls, his grip tightening in the man’s hair. “I don’t know why we are playing this game. We both know it isn’t going to go your way, so why fight the inevitable?”
“You may kill me now, but they will torture me for eternity if I give you your answers,” the man snarled, eyes turned to solid black, the demon inside giving up its charade.
“Are you so sure about that?” Sam asked lips turning upward in a humorless smile. “Do I seem to care to you if my soul becomes damned to hell? What do you think will happen to hell if I come down to play?”
The demon opened the human’s mouth to answer, but stopped as the knife tip pressed deeper, cutting into the flesh, making the human bleed before the demon’s evil healed it.
“Sam, Goddamnit! Stop that crap right now and just do what we’re here for!” Bobby screamed angrily, the concern and fear for what Sam was slowly becoming without Dean to reel him in, evident in his voice.
“Where is Dean?” Sam asked the question, not a new one this evening and Sam was getting tired of asking. Just as he’d decided that he didn’t care if it took him on a one-way trip south, the demon said the only thing that could save its life.
“He’s alive!” It offered, and because of his abilities, Sam felt the truth of its words. “Where?” Sam snarled, and the creature shrieked as the knife slipped in further its magical powers hurting demon as much as human. “WHERE?” Sam hollered ready to plunge the knife in fully and damn everything before the demon decided to take a not so graceful exit. The human mouth opening, the black cloud exiting his body and Sam’s hand flexed on the handle of the blade, itching to finish what he’d started despite the demon’s now absence from flesh.
From nowhere a flash of Dean sitting in the Impala, cocky smile on his face as he told him, “driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole,” went through Sam’s brain breaking him for not the first time in places new and old. Tossing the knife to one side, Sam put a hand under the man’s chin and healed the wound, feeling a twinge under his own jaw as he did so, his flesh becoming red and aching from what would appear for a few days to be a healing wound.
Once the human was healed, Sam stood and turned to walk away not concerned with how the man would get to safety. “Death Valley,” he heard though before he could leave and turning back eyed the man, weighting his words. “He went there once when he was using me. Your brother is in Death Valley, chained up in a cave, as they try and turn him into one of them.”
Narrowing his eyes Sam moved back to the man and hauled him to his feet. “You can show me?” Sam asked feeling the fear still going through the man. He was Sam thought, smart enough to know he wasn’t quite saved yet.
“Yes, I’ve been there,” the man promised, his knees weakening as the tears came again, unsure what he’d done to deserve all this.
“And you’re sure he’s alive?” Sam asked and the man nodded frantically.
“Yes, he’s alive. They’ve tried to kill him, but he won’t die.”
“What the fuck do you mean he won’t die?” Sam asked hotly, not understanding what the man was saying. Dean wasn’t like him; Dean wasn’t a real freak, just a human one, the kind of freak all hunters were.
“He won’t die,” the man insisted. “They try and he just heals. The, the one that was in me, he thought it was because of you. You’re saving your brother. You’re keeping him alive.”
“Get in the car, in the back,” Sam ordered shoving the man towards where the Impala sat waiting for him to come back to it. Watching the man stumble across the field, Sam waited for the thrill to come, for the hope to rekindle, but nothing.
“Sam, we’ll find him,” Bobby assured hovering just next to Sam’s right shoulder.
When Sam’s dead brown eyes turned to look at him, Bobby flinched, or would have if he still knew how. Not for the first time he wondered if, once they got Dean back, they wouldn’t have to then save Sam. Some days he wondered if there was anything left to even save. The Sam Winchester that stood before him, five years alone in the world, could make John look like a puppy huggin’ peace lovin’ hippie. Emotion rarely entered Sam’s equation these days, even when he was threatening something or someone intent on getting answers, it was methodical, because he knew that was the only way to get answers, not emotional, done out of anger or desperation.
Bobby just hoped that the old Sam or at least some part of him was still inside safely tucked away from the rest of them. ‘Cause if it wasn’t, Dean was gonna bring him back to live just so he could kill him again.
Reaching back, Sam pulled the tie out of his hair, freeing his long brown waves a headache present, but barely felt. In the old days, it would have brought him to his knees, but now, maybe because he knew no one was there to care for him while suffered its pain, Sam absorbed it unflinchingly, taking the pain and making himself harder, stronger with it.
“Your brother will be proud of you, Sam,” Bobby said softly and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of something, but it was gone so quick he decided that it was wishful thinking.
“If that man is right, then demons have been torturing my brother trying any way they can to kill him for the last five years. What makes you think he’ll still feel anything when I get him back?” Sam asked turning those eyes back to the car as he finally moved making his way into the driver’s seat.
Reaching for the tape hovering in the mouth of the tape player, Sam paused looking out at the dark road before him. “I don’t feel and they haven’t touched me once.”
Before he could answer though, Metallica blared from the speakers.
Don't you leave me Father Time
Take me with you
Tell me does your sun still shine
Come squeeze the world and drip it down my throat again
Down my throat again.... woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for,
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for
Air
Touch me so I think I'm here
Skin my senses
Barely breathing
Minus Human
Please squeeze the world and drip it down my throat again
ooah Down my throat again..... woooah
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for,
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for
Air
You got to breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for,
Breathe man, breathe!
Coming up for!
Putting the car in drive, Sam floored it pulling back out onto the road. ‘Death Valley, how fitting.’ He thought to himself briefly, and then didn’t think of anything that didn’t include what he’d do to the demons once he got his brother back, until he had to.
Beside him, Bobby watched and grew more concerned the closer that they got.