How you'll always haunt me [Can you help me?]
[Sacrifice]
He’s on his feet and the room spins because it’s the first time he’s really done that in two weeks. His fist connects with the wall in a burst of anger that leaves as quickly as it came and he sags against the wall, forehead resting just above the hole in the sheet rock he’s made. There still aren’t any tears but he knows their time is coming because his entire body aches with them. He knows what Dean did was a sacrifice but he knows it wasn’t selfless. Dean spared himself this and Sam can’t blame him for being a selfish bastard. He also knows that most people would consider what Dean did noble. He supposes in some sense of the word it was but god dammit he left him here all alone and Sam can’t figure out how to function without him. Sure he’s breathing and his heart is beating and he’s alive but he’s losing his soul a little at a time and he’s dying every single second of every single day.
He knows he should move, knows he should do something and he’s not stupid. He knows he needs to do something with the corpse in the room but that’s a final stage of grieving he’s not willing to approach and he probably never will be. Sam’s jaw squares and in a moment everything changes. He straightens up and clenches his fists as he starts toward the bathroom.
“RUBY!” he yells at the top of his lungs even though she’s not any further than just outside the door. “Find me a body bag.”
Ruby steps inside the room with a smile that wouldn’t melt ice. “Having a funeral, Puppy?” There’s a light in her eyes that says he has an idea of what’s going on. She just wants to hear it from his lips.
He shakes his head, and the hard façade almost slips but he’s hanging onto it by his fingernails. “No. I need to be somewhere. Anywhere but here. I’m going to take a shower and we’re getting in the Impala and we’re taking a road trip. With Dean.”
Because he still wasn’t ready to leave his brother behind but he was going to get to the bottom of this sacrifice shit and he was going to get Dean back.
He’s on his feet and the room spins because it’s the first time he’s really done that in two weeks. His fist connects with the wall in a burst of anger that leaves as quickly as it came and he sags against the wall, forehead resting just above the hole in the sheet rock he’s made. There still aren’t any tears but he knows their time is coming because his entire body aches with them. He knows what Dean did was a sacrifice but he knows it wasn’t selfless. Dean spared himself this and Sam can’t blame him for being a selfish bastard. He also knows that most people would consider what Dean did noble. He supposes in some sense of the word it was but god dammit he left him here all alone and Sam can’t figure out how to function without him. Sure he’s breathing and his heart is beating and he’s alive but he’s losing his soul a little at a time and he’s dying every single second of every single day.
He knows he should move, knows he should do something and he’s not stupid. He knows he needs to do something with the corpse in the room but that’s a final stage of grieving he’s not willing to approach and he probably never will be. Sam’s jaw squares and in a moment everything changes. He straightens up and clenches his fists as he starts toward the bathroom.
“RUBY!” he yells at the top of his lungs even though she’s not any further than just outside the door. “Find me a body bag.”
Ruby steps inside the room with a smile that wouldn’t melt ice. “Having a funeral, Puppy?” There’s a light in her eyes that says he has an idea of what’s going on. She just wants to hear it from his lips.
He shakes his head, and the hard façade almost slips but he’s hanging onto it by his fingernails. “No. I need to be somewhere. Anywhere but here. I’m going to take a shower and we’re getting in the Impala and we’re taking a road trip. With Dean.”
Because he still wasn’t ready to leave his brother behind but he was going to get to the bottom of this sacrifice shit and he was going to get Dean back.