[creative_muses] May 005: If you could meet any person in the world who is dead/alive
005. If you could meet any person in the world who is dead/alive who would you want it to be?
“Sam, you look just awful.”
“Let’s hear it. Go ahead.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re disappointed. You never thought I’d turn out this way. I’m a piss poor excuse for a son. Your heart’s broken. Am I close?”
If it hadn’t been for his mother, Sam would probably have never known just what it was that went bump in the night. But ever since she’d been murdered by a demon, when he had only been six months old, his family had lived to fight the creatures of the night. And whilst Sam didn’t doubt the goodness of what they did, Sam wished he could at least remember the woman who he was fighting for.
“Not at all. You’re doing the right thing, Sam. What you’re doing is brave. You’re not being crazy, you’re being practical. Sam, I am so proud of you.”
Sam often wondered whether his mom would have been proud of him, would have been happy with how he’d turned out. Would she wrap her arms around him, hug him close, even after everything he had done? Would she care that her son was half-demon, after she’d devoted her own life to protecting her family from the same?
“But... but... Dean?”
“Your brother doesn’t understand. I was raised a hunter, from a long line. We understand that there are going to be hard choices, but we do what we have to to get the job done. Yes, our family is cursed. But you... you have the power to turn it into a gift. You can use it against them.”
“For revenge?”
He knows she’s a hallucination when she appears, his lesson learnt from Alistair and his pre-teen self. She’s dressed as she must have been, the night she died, in a blood-stained nightdress. She tells him everything he’s always wanted to hear; that she’s proud of him, that he’s been a good son. And after Alistair’s torture, after the echoes of his own past had been back to haunt him, it felt so good to hear a voice that was friendly. Who didn’t condemn him and tell him how badly he’d screwed up.
“No, for justice. I know how scared you are.”
“What’s in me, mom... it’s...”
“Evil. And you know it.”
What if it’s stronger than me? Look at me. What if Dean’s right?”
Still, he still has some sense left. Even as everything he is descends into insanity, desperate for the ache in his soul to stop, he still knows that this is a bad thing. That he shouldn’t have turned out like this. Dean had warned him, over and over, that he was heading down a dangerous path. His brother, who had always been there for him, always protected him... how could he take the words of a hallucination over the words of his own brother?
“Dean can never know how strong you are. Because Dean is weak. Look at what he’s done to you, locking you in here. He’s terrified. He’s in over his head. You have to go on without him. You have what it takes. You have to kill Lilith.”
“Even if it kills me.”
“Make my death mean something. I’m counting on you Sam. Don’t let anyone, or anything, get in your way. Not even Dean.”
Sam’s always dreamt he’d be able to somehow meet his mom one day. And now here she was, telling him that he was strong, that he could save the world if only he cast Dean aside, and Sam had never felt so torn. Dean had never let him down before, had always had his back, and he did not like to think of him as being ‘weak’ or ‘terrified’. But... this was his mom, and he was struggling to remember now that she was only a hallucination, the kiss to his cheek feeling so real. She was his mother, and she was here, telling him he could save the world... if he was just brave enough.
And, hallucination or otherwise, Sam could not resist the voice he had craved for so long. He would break out. He would kill Lilith. And he would make Mary Winchester’s death mean something.
“Sam, you look just awful.”
“Let’s hear it. Go ahead.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re disappointed. You never thought I’d turn out this way. I’m a piss poor excuse for a son. Your heart’s broken. Am I close?”
If it hadn’t been for his mother, Sam would probably have never known just what it was that went bump in the night. But ever since she’d been murdered by a demon, when he had only been six months old, his family had lived to fight the creatures of the night. And whilst Sam didn’t doubt the goodness of what they did, Sam wished he could at least remember the woman who he was fighting for.
“Not at all. You’re doing the right thing, Sam. What you’re doing is brave. You’re not being crazy, you’re being practical. Sam, I am so proud of you.”
Sam often wondered whether his mom would have been proud of him, would have been happy with how he’d turned out. Would she wrap her arms around him, hug him close, even after everything he had done? Would she care that her son was half-demon, after she’d devoted her own life to protecting her family from the same?
“But... but... Dean?”
“Your brother doesn’t understand. I was raised a hunter, from a long line. We understand that there are going to be hard choices, but we do what we have to to get the job done. Yes, our family is cursed. But you... you have the power to turn it into a gift. You can use it against them.”
“For revenge?”
He knows she’s a hallucination when she appears, his lesson learnt from Alistair and his pre-teen self. She’s dressed as she must have been, the night she died, in a blood-stained nightdress. She tells him everything he’s always wanted to hear; that she’s proud of him, that he’s been a good son. And after Alistair’s torture, after the echoes of his own past had been back to haunt him, it felt so good to hear a voice that was friendly. Who didn’t condemn him and tell him how badly he’d screwed up.
“No, for justice. I know how scared you are.”
“What’s in me, mom... it’s...”
“Evil. And you know it.”
What if it’s stronger than me? Look at me. What if Dean’s right?”
Still, he still has some sense left. Even as everything he is descends into insanity, desperate for the ache in his soul to stop, he still knows that this is a bad thing. That he shouldn’t have turned out like this. Dean had warned him, over and over, that he was heading down a dangerous path. His brother, who had always been there for him, always protected him... how could he take the words of a hallucination over the words of his own brother?
“Dean can never know how strong you are. Because Dean is weak. Look at what he’s done to you, locking you in here. He’s terrified. He’s in over his head. You have to go on without him. You have what it takes. You have to kill Lilith.”
“Even if it kills me.”
“Make my death mean something. I’m counting on you Sam. Don’t let anyone, or anything, get in your way. Not even Dean.”
Sam’s always dreamt he’d be able to somehow meet his mom one day. And now here she was, telling him that he was strong, that he could save the world if only he cast Dean aside, and Sam had never felt so torn. Dean had never let him down before, had always had his back, and he did not like to think of him as being ‘weak’ or ‘terrified’. But... this was his mom, and he was struggling to remember now that she was only a hallucination, the kiss to his cheek feeling so real. She was his mother, and she was here, telling him he could save the world... if he was just brave enough.
And, hallucination or otherwise, Sam could not resist the voice he had craved for so long. He would break out. He would kill Lilith. And he would make Mary Winchester’s death mean something.