Underneath a Stretching Skyline verse #04 : The Water Keeps its Course
Title: The Water Keeps its Course, sammyverse #04
Author: LaueHime
Rating: Mature
Genre/pairing: Angst, H/C, Hints of humor, Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: +/- 2,200
Warnings: Some cussing, alcohol abuse, sexual abuse implied (slightly, but if you see it, it’s there)
Summary: Sam’s calling for the bottle and the bottle is calling for him. But he clearly doesn’t have a problem.
Written for spnshannanigans’s prompt on ohsam which is “Sam's memories from hell threaten to overwhelm him every moment of every day. To calm the storm in his head, he comes to rely on either drugs or alcohol (or both). Dean allows this to continue (for now anyway) because he doesn't know how to help Sam and he can't stand the screaming”
Disclaimer: The show belongs to Kripke.
A/N: This is a series of verses. Every chapter can be read as a standalone story. But of course, it’ll make more sense if you’ve read them all (or at least most of them). Each verse has its own title based on the lyrics of the song the fic is named after.
I made a video for these sammyverses too (with aforementioned song). You can watch it HERE.
Feedback is love. Enjoy!
SNSNSNSN
The progression was only natural and Sam didn’t even realize the pattern he was falling into. It was just unconscious, really. Or, at least, it’s what he told himself every time he felt guilty and needed to be vindicated.
At first, it was for the pain. Hunting was not the kind of job that came with a health insurance and retirement plan. Bills were expensive and because they used fake names most of the time, they couldn’t afford to go down to the clinic for every bruise they got themselves while “working”.
When Dean stitched him up, he’d chug a few ounces of liquor and let the comforting numbing feeling warm its way down his trachea. Quickly enough, he came to realize that the booze made him sleepy. Usually, it’s not a side effect that he would have liked, but since the devil enjoyed keeping him up at night, he started to enjoy the idea of getting a few hours of shut eye every once in a while.
When it worked to numb him and put him to sleep, he decided to give it a try when he was nervous. Turns out whiskey worked like wonders against the anxiety that was usually brought on by - let’s say - memories of a few hundred and fifty years of Hell.
It was truly a natural progression. But once it started, it seemed like a pattern that would be hard to undo.
Dean was growing suspicious too.
“Seriously? It’s 9 a.m., Sam” Dean would say. Sam had just poured himself a glass of whiskey.
“Has to be 5 p.m. somewhere…” the youngest growled as he gulped the liquor.
“Dude, you just got out of bed” Dean continued.
Sam had purple rings under his eyes and a pained wrinkle creased his brow.
“Didn’t go”
Dean frowned.
“To bed? What the fuck, Sam?”
The youngest looked too exhausted to fight.
“Lucifer wouldn’t let me” he admitted in a sad murmur.
Dean’s fists clenched and he would’ve hit something if he’d had anything to swing at.
“Can’t you chase him away?” the eldest tried, desperate to find solutions.
Sam looked at him and for a moment, Dean could really see a kid in front of him. His kid was scared and broken. Sam finally held up the glass to show it to his brother. Dean shook his head sadly. Sam poured himself another shot.
“But seriously, Sam. How much of this are you drinking?”
Sam’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling and he looked like he was counting. He finally shrugged, too exhausted to focus anyway. Dean sighed loudly.
“Can’t you find something else to help you deal?”
He really wished his brother would find something else. He’d take anything at that point.
“I am dealing” Sam replied bluntly, looking up at his brother with glassy eyes.
“Sure you are. You’re actually the poster boy for sanity, right now” Dean growled.
Sam rolled his eyes and looked at his brother dolefully. Dean looked desperate to help, but also like he didn’t know how. In fact, he didn’t. He was starting to grasp just how messed up his brother was and how it had nothing to do with what he had been through. He finally sighed.
There was a hint of despair in that simple action.
“The only thing I have found so far is pain… but I’m not going to self-harm either” Sam tried.
Dean looked at him seriously. “That’d be too fucking cliché” he breathed out.
Sam looked at him somberly. He just didn’t want to admit that he would hate for Dean to fuss over him if he found out that Sam had self-inflicted scars. The one on his palm was enough. And that was if he ignored the numerous ones he’d accumulated throughout his whole life.
Truth is - he didn’t really care how he did it, but he just needed something…
He could tell that Dean wanted him to be minimally functional and he really wanted to give him that, at least. He could deal with his shit as long as it didn’t bother his brother.
Sam just stared out, blankly. He noticed from the corner of his eye that his glass was empty. He found himself craving for more. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Come on, Sam. Pull your shit together. You’re not an alcoholic.
But then Lucifer could hear his thoughts and he would just shout into his ears. ‘You keep telling yourself that, Sammy. But we both know how broken and pathetic you are’. Sam cringed.
Instinctively, he poured himself another shot.
‘Way to go, bunkmate’ Lucifer teased. Sam pinched his eyes closed. Shut up!
And he could only hear the cold and cruel laugh that filled his head and came to life under his skin. Goose bumps popped out on the surface.
“Sam? You hear me? Sam!”
The youngest shook the memories away and brought his focus back on the present.
“Yeah” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean wasn’t dumb enough to even pretend that he didn’t know what was going on.
“Him again?”
Sam simply nodded. Lucifer’s laugh was still ringing in his ears, but he tried to push it as far as he could into the back of his mind. Dean wanted to cry because there was nothing for him to do.
And that was just the beginning of yet another wonderful day. Sam could manage a few hours of quietude in between hours of torment. The shots did help. Sometimes. And sometimes Lucifer would drunkenly sing karaoke songs into his head, blaming Sam for bringing the booze.
‘Hey, Sambo! I am inside you! Are you drinking just to get me drunk? Because I know I love it! And I’m sure you do too’ the devil grinned. Sam snapped his eyes closed and tried to erase the images from his mind. Lucifer kept on laughing.
‘You know how I get when I’m drunk, don’t you? You do remember everything, buddy’
Sam cringed. He did remember and that’s what he was trying so hard to forget. Dean was snoring on the bed next to him. His brother was completely oblivious to his pain. But even if Dean was up and with him, his brother couldn’t change a thing to what he had been through.
‘Or what I’ve been through’ Lucifer giggled. Sam flinched and gasped. He stood on shaky legs and grabbed the quarter of a bottle of Jack that he had left on the night stand expectantly. It was gone in just a few swallows.
Lucifer’s voice died down to a quiet murmur and Sam’s head spun. He could see his bed rushing up to meet him. He gave himself into its comfort and sank into a painless oblivion.
When he woke up, Dean was already out of bed and dressed. Sam pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Mornin’” he yawned out. Dean turned to him as if he hadn’t realized that he was awake.
“Hey, sleepyhead! You finally decided to join the land of the living”
Sam frowned. Had he been asleep for that long?
“It’s almost noon” Dean replied as if he had read his thoughts.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Sam asked, stretching the kinks out of his shoulders.
“Well you were sleeping for once”
Dean looked proud and Sam couldn’t argue against him. He did feel terribly tired, after all.
“What’re we doin’ today?” Sam asked.
His big brother was obviously packing, which meant that they would probably be leaving soon.
“I was thinking ‘bout taking a day off. Maybe check on Bobby. That’ll give us some time to find a lead on those Leviathans or whatever the fuck they are”
Sam studied his big brother and Dean stopped himself from his speech to look at the youngest, puzzled. Sam was staring and it made him uncomfortable.
“Dude, you okay?” he asked, rolling his eyes to the side to avoid the awkward moment.
“mmm?” Sam mumbled, his eyes snapping back into focus. Dean could tell that Sam had spaced out on him. The kid had something on his mind.
“You good? You know…” Dean pointed to his head and made a face as if imitating a dizzy Sam when the kid was dozing off. Sam nodded.
“Yeah. I’m uh… I’m good. Sure, let’s get moving”
“Okay” Dean agreed, but he wasn’t completely comforted. He went to the bathroom. That’s why he didn’t notice how Sam fumbled for some liquor.
The youngest only remembered emptying his last bottle when he found it discarded in the trash. He had finished his last bottle with Lucifer’s torments on the previous night. He tried to shake his head and then shook his fingers to alleviate some of his anxiety.
Okay, Sam. Breathe. You’re not an alcoholic. You can do this. It’s just one day. As soon as you find Bobby, you can find a liquor store and buy some more. Meanwhile, just calm down. It’s okay.
And he truly wanted to believe that. It worked. At first. They packed the car and hit the road. Dean was chatting about some movie he had watched on TV. Sam was trying to listen, trying to focus. Focus on Dean’s voice.
But there was that cold feeling in his throat and that odd shaky feeling in his limbs. He felt like ants were running under his skin, along his muscles and around his bones. His head itched as if spiders were crawling into his hair. Every pothole sent a jolt of pain to his nervous system.
“Sam? Are you even listening to me?” Dean asked.
Sam’s head snapped to the side where he found concerned green eyes staring back at him.
“Yes, Dean. What else could I do?” the youngest replied tiredly.
Dean looked back to the road and shrugged exaggeratedly.
“Oh, I don’t know. Have a chat with your buddy Lucifer, maybe?”
Sam cringed at the mention of both ‘buddy’ and ‘Lucifer’ in the same sentence.
“Screw you” he replied softly.
Dean tensed and looked at how cold Sam had grown before looking back to the road.
“Okay then, what was I saying?” he tested. Sam rolled his eyes and then never took his eyes off the landscape he had view over through his side window.
“That Mothra vs. Godzilla was way better than Astro-Monster would ever be” Sam repeated robotically.
At hearing his brother paraphrase him with such - little - enthusiasm, Dean couldn’t help but grin. It was so ridiculous that he couldn’t help but to find it funny. He started giggling and laughing soon followed.
Sam wanted to stay serious and peek out the window, but the scene was too ridiculous indeed. He started chuckling and soon joined Dean in laughter. He finally turned his head to see his big brother. Dean looked relieved. As if just this small teasing between them could make the pain go away. It didn’t last long, but it was worth more than anything while it did.
“Damn straight, kiddo” he chuckled. Sam smiled. Dean was happy to see Sam smile. Things appeared to be better.
That was until Dean had to stop for gas and Sam spotted the liquor store. He said he was going for a piss and sneaked out to the liquor store. He then hid into the disgusting bathroom of the gas station and gulped desperate shots of whiskey. He’d missed his morning dose and he would have never thought that it would affect him that much.
The crawling reduced to a slight itch and the shaking died. He looked at his reflection in the busted mirror and sighed. Was he kidding himself when he tried to convince himself that he was okay? Anybody else who would’ve gone through what he had would probably have hung himself already.
He’d made it this far… a little drinking couldn’t hurt anyone could it?
He quickly chewed on a mint gum and joined Dean whom was waiting for him in the car.
“Dude, do you still have anything left in you?” Dean teased.
Sam wasn’t so jerky and moody anymore. He even pulled a soft lopsided grin.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?”
Dean smiled blissfully.
“Now that’s the Sammy I know. Where’ve you been, man?”
Sam looked down for a moment. If Dean didn’t know about it, he actually enjoyed his presence. Dean didn’t need to know everything either.
“Away for a little while… but I’m back now” he said with a spark of something crazy inside his eyes.
“Okay. Welcome back. Bitch”
Sam smiled and nodded.
I’m back.
I’m back.
Here.
With Dean.
Not in the cage.
Back.
Fuck, I’m thirsty…
Author: LaueHime
Rating: Mature
Genre/pairing: Angst, H/C, Hints of humor, Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word count: +/- 2,200
Warnings: Some cussing, alcohol abuse, sexual abuse implied (slightly, but if you see it, it’s there)
Summary: Sam’s calling for the bottle and the bottle is calling for him. But he clearly doesn’t have a problem.
Written for spnshannanigans’s prompt on ohsam which is “Sam's memories from hell threaten to overwhelm him every moment of every day. To calm the storm in his head, he comes to rely on either drugs or alcohol (or both). Dean allows this to continue (for now anyway) because he doesn't know how to help Sam and he can't stand the screaming”
Disclaimer: The show belongs to Kripke.
A/N: This is a series of verses. Every chapter can be read as a standalone story. But of course, it’ll make more sense if you’ve read them all (or at least most of them). Each verse has its own title based on the lyrics of the song the fic is named after.
I made a video for these sammyverses too (with aforementioned song). You can watch it HERE.
Feedback is love. Enjoy!
SNSNSNSN
The progression was only natural and Sam didn’t even realize the pattern he was falling into. It was just unconscious, really. Or, at least, it’s what he told himself every time he felt guilty and needed to be vindicated.
At first, it was for the pain. Hunting was not the kind of job that came with a health insurance and retirement plan. Bills were expensive and because they used fake names most of the time, they couldn’t afford to go down to the clinic for every bruise they got themselves while “working”.
When Dean stitched him up, he’d chug a few ounces of liquor and let the comforting numbing feeling warm its way down his trachea. Quickly enough, he came to realize that the booze made him sleepy. Usually, it’s not a side effect that he would have liked, but since the devil enjoyed keeping him up at night, he started to enjoy the idea of getting a few hours of shut eye every once in a while.
When it worked to numb him and put him to sleep, he decided to give it a try when he was nervous. Turns out whiskey worked like wonders against the anxiety that was usually brought on by - let’s say - memories of a few hundred and fifty years of Hell.
It was truly a natural progression. But once it started, it seemed like a pattern that would be hard to undo.
Dean was growing suspicious too.
“Seriously? It’s 9 a.m., Sam” Dean would say. Sam had just poured himself a glass of whiskey.
“Has to be 5 p.m. somewhere…” the youngest growled as he gulped the liquor.
“Dude, you just got out of bed” Dean continued.
Sam had purple rings under his eyes and a pained wrinkle creased his brow.
“Didn’t go”
Dean frowned.
“To bed? What the fuck, Sam?”
The youngest looked too exhausted to fight.
“Lucifer wouldn’t let me” he admitted in a sad murmur.
Dean’s fists clenched and he would’ve hit something if he’d had anything to swing at.
“Can’t you chase him away?” the eldest tried, desperate to find solutions.
Sam looked at him and for a moment, Dean could really see a kid in front of him. His kid was scared and broken. Sam finally held up the glass to show it to his brother. Dean shook his head sadly. Sam poured himself another shot.
“But seriously, Sam. How much of this are you drinking?”
Sam’s eyes rolled towards the ceiling and he looked like he was counting. He finally shrugged, too exhausted to focus anyway. Dean sighed loudly.
“Can’t you find something else to help you deal?”
He really wished his brother would find something else. He’d take anything at that point.
“I am dealing” Sam replied bluntly, looking up at his brother with glassy eyes.
“Sure you are. You’re actually the poster boy for sanity, right now” Dean growled.
Sam rolled his eyes and looked at his brother dolefully. Dean looked desperate to help, but also like he didn’t know how. In fact, he didn’t. He was starting to grasp just how messed up his brother was and how it had nothing to do with what he had been through. He finally sighed.
There was a hint of despair in that simple action.
“The only thing I have found so far is pain… but I’m not going to self-harm either” Sam tried.
Dean looked at him seriously. “That’d be too fucking cliché” he breathed out.
Sam looked at him somberly. He just didn’t want to admit that he would hate for Dean to fuss over him if he found out that Sam had self-inflicted scars. The one on his palm was enough. And that was if he ignored the numerous ones he’d accumulated throughout his whole life.
Truth is - he didn’t really care how he did it, but he just needed something…
He could tell that Dean wanted him to be minimally functional and he really wanted to give him that, at least. He could deal with his shit as long as it didn’t bother his brother.
Sam just stared out, blankly. He noticed from the corner of his eye that his glass was empty. He found himself craving for more. He closed his eyes and shook his head. Come on, Sam. Pull your shit together. You’re not an alcoholic.
But then Lucifer could hear his thoughts and he would just shout into his ears. ‘You keep telling yourself that, Sammy. But we both know how broken and pathetic you are’. Sam cringed.
Instinctively, he poured himself another shot.
‘Way to go, bunkmate’ Lucifer teased. Sam pinched his eyes closed. Shut up!
And he could only hear the cold and cruel laugh that filled his head and came to life under his skin. Goose bumps popped out on the surface.
“Sam? You hear me? Sam!”
The youngest shook the memories away and brought his focus back on the present.
“Yeah” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Dean wasn’t dumb enough to even pretend that he didn’t know what was going on.
“Him again?”
Sam simply nodded. Lucifer’s laugh was still ringing in his ears, but he tried to push it as far as he could into the back of his mind. Dean wanted to cry because there was nothing for him to do.
And that was just the beginning of yet another wonderful day. Sam could manage a few hours of quietude in between hours of torment. The shots did help. Sometimes. And sometimes Lucifer would drunkenly sing karaoke songs into his head, blaming Sam for bringing the booze.
‘Hey, Sambo! I am inside you! Are you drinking just to get me drunk? Because I know I love it! And I’m sure you do too’ the devil grinned. Sam snapped his eyes closed and tried to erase the images from his mind. Lucifer kept on laughing.
‘You know how I get when I’m drunk, don’t you? You do remember everything, buddy’
Sam cringed. He did remember and that’s what he was trying so hard to forget. Dean was snoring on the bed next to him. His brother was completely oblivious to his pain. But even if Dean was up and with him, his brother couldn’t change a thing to what he had been through.
‘Or what I’ve been through’ Lucifer giggled. Sam flinched and gasped. He stood on shaky legs and grabbed the quarter of a bottle of Jack that he had left on the night stand expectantly. It was gone in just a few swallows.
Lucifer’s voice died down to a quiet murmur and Sam’s head spun. He could see his bed rushing up to meet him. He gave himself into its comfort and sank into a painless oblivion.
When he woke up, Dean was already out of bed and dressed. Sam pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Mornin’” he yawned out. Dean turned to him as if he hadn’t realized that he was awake.
“Hey, sleepyhead! You finally decided to join the land of the living”
Sam frowned. Had he been asleep for that long?
“It’s almost noon” Dean replied as if he had read his thoughts.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” Sam asked, stretching the kinks out of his shoulders.
“Well you were sleeping for once”
Dean looked proud and Sam couldn’t argue against him. He did feel terribly tired, after all.
“What’re we doin’ today?” Sam asked.
His big brother was obviously packing, which meant that they would probably be leaving soon.
“I was thinking ‘bout taking a day off. Maybe check on Bobby. That’ll give us some time to find a lead on those Leviathans or whatever the fuck they are”
Sam studied his big brother and Dean stopped himself from his speech to look at the youngest, puzzled. Sam was staring and it made him uncomfortable.
“Dude, you okay?” he asked, rolling his eyes to the side to avoid the awkward moment.
“mmm?” Sam mumbled, his eyes snapping back into focus. Dean could tell that Sam had spaced out on him. The kid had something on his mind.
“You good? You know…” Dean pointed to his head and made a face as if imitating a dizzy Sam when the kid was dozing off. Sam nodded.
“Yeah. I’m uh… I’m good. Sure, let’s get moving”
“Okay” Dean agreed, but he wasn’t completely comforted. He went to the bathroom. That’s why he didn’t notice how Sam fumbled for some liquor.
The youngest only remembered emptying his last bottle when he found it discarded in the trash. He had finished his last bottle with Lucifer’s torments on the previous night. He tried to shake his head and then shook his fingers to alleviate some of his anxiety.
Okay, Sam. Breathe. You’re not an alcoholic. You can do this. It’s just one day. As soon as you find Bobby, you can find a liquor store and buy some more. Meanwhile, just calm down. It’s okay.
And he truly wanted to believe that. It worked. At first. They packed the car and hit the road. Dean was chatting about some movie he had watched on TV. Sam was trying to listen, trying to focus. Focus on Dean’s voice.
But there was that cold feeling in his throat and that odd shaky feeling in his limbs. He felt like ants were running under his skin, along his muscles and around his bones. His head itched as if spiders were crawling into his hair. Every pothole sent a jolt of pain to his nervous system.
“Sam? Are you even listening to me?” Dean asked.
Sam’s head snapped to the side where he found concerned green eyes staring back at him.
“Yes, Dean. What else could I do?” the youngest replied tiredly.
Dean looked back to the road and shrugged exaggeratedly.
“Oh, I don’t know. Have a chat with your buddy Lucifer, maybe?”
Sam cringed at the mention of both ‘buddy’ and ‘Lucifer’ in the same sentence.
“Screw you” he replied softly.
Dean tensed and looked at how cold Sam had grown before looking back to the road.
“Okay then, what was I saying?” he tested. Sam rolled his eyes and then never took his eyes off the landscape he had view over through his side window.
“That Mothra vs. Godzilla was way better than Astro-Monster would ever be” Sam repeated robotically.
At hearing his brother paraphrase him with such - little - enthusiasm, Dean couldn’t help but grin. It was so ridiculous that he couldn’t help but to find it funny. He started giggling and laughing soon followed.
Sam wanted to stay serious and peek out the window, but the scene was too ridiculous indeed. He started chuckling and soon joined Dean in laughter. He finally turned his head to see his big brother. Dean looked relieved. As if just this small teasing between them could make the pain go away. It didn’t last long, but it was worth more than anything while it did.
“Damn straight, kiddo” he chuckled. Sam smiled. Dean was happy to see Sam smile. Things appeared to be better.
That was until Dean had to stop for gas and Sam spotted the liquor store. He said he was going for a piss and sneaked out to the liquor store. He then hid into the disgusting bathroom of the gas station and gulped desperate shots of whiskey. He’d missed his morning dose and he would have never thought that it would affect him that much.
The crawling reduced to a slight itch and the shaking died. He looked at his reflection in the busted mirror and sighed. Was he kidding himself when he tried to convince himself that he was okay? Anybody else who would’ve gone through what he had would probably have hung himself already.
He’d made it this far… a little drinking couldn’t hurt anyone could it?
He quickly chewed on a mint gum and joined Dean whom was waiting for him in the car.
“Dude, do you still have anything left in you?” Dean teased.
Sam wasn’t so jerky and moody anymore. He even pulled a soft lopsided grin.
“You’re an idiot, you know that?”
Dean smiled blissfully.
“Now that’s the Sammy I know. Where’ve you been, man?”
Sam looked down for a moment. If Dean didn’t know about it, he actually enjoyed his presence. Dean didn’t need to know everything either.
“Away for a little while… but I’m back now” he said with a spark of something crazy inside his eyes.
“Okay. Welcome back. Bitch”
Sam smiled and nodded.
I’m back.
I’m back.
Here.
With Dean.
Not in the cage.
Back.
Fuck, I’m thirsty…