I Would Hug You...

[leilanaice]

Title: I Would Hug You...
Author: leilanaice
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen, Angst, Comfort
Characters: Sam, Castiel
Word Count: 4534
Summary: Missing scene to Season 6- episode 12- Like a Virgin. Castiel tells Sam of what he recalls of Sam's soulless year.
Spoilers: Up to 6x12
Disclaimer: Not my sandbox; I just like to play in it every once in awhile.


"So, how does it feel?" the gruff voice asked curiously.

Sam looked up at the angel. "What?"

"Well to have your soul back of course," Castiel answered the confused man as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sam was stealthily attempting to squeeze some sort of information out of Castiel as to why everybody was acting so strangely around him. Dean had been acting as though he were fragile and would break any moment like glass; Bobby was acting as though he carried some sort of fatal disease and distanced himself as much as he could from Sam for fear of infection. Thoughts swirled through Sam's mind at Castiel's words with force of a hurricane, scattering them like wild debris in the vestiges of his mind. Soulless...? I walked around for over a year with no soul inside of me? How? What did I...what happened to me? I don't remember anything. Did I hurt somebody? None of this can be good...oh, God...what did I do?

"Right, because you mean I was...walkin' around with no soul," Sam audibly confirmed for himself as if not wanting to believe it. He could feel the gentle tingle behind his eyes and averted his gaze from the angel's. "Uhhh, really good, Cas, real good," he answered Castiel with a bad attempt at a half smile, not able to keep the tears from forming, making their appearance in his eyes and stinging them. "You know what, I'm just...hazy on a few of the details though," he told Cas, doing his best to blink back his tears and trying to ignore the slight break in his voice. He managed to turn his hazels up at the angel, squinting against the water brimming in his eyes. He was not going to cry in front of Castiel. No way. "You think maybe you could...walk me through?" Sam asked Castiel, slightly hesitantly. He inhaled a soft, shaky breath and waited for Castiel's response.

He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know what had happened while he was soulless. He was almost scared to find out. He'd never heard of a soulless human being walking around the earth in his entire life, and the thought terrified him. Most monsters were looked at as soulless, so had he honestly once again fulfilled that title of 'monster' ...? No, no he couldn't have, right? Sam tried to push that dark thought from his mind. He was not a monster. Lucifer had been controlling him. It wasn't as though he'd willingly killed Castiel, Bobby or all those other people all on his own.

"Well, I can try," the angel responded, continuing to watch Sam with his brow furrowed, and his head tilted slightly. Even though he'd been almost human once before, Castiel seemed to still have trouble comprehending human emotions, but he didn't mistake what he saw in the young hunter's eyes. He looked scared, worried which was definitely the typical Sam Winchester response if something bad had happened. "I don't really know of everything. Dean and I, we knew something was wrong with you early on, but I truthfully didn't find out that you had no soul after the incident with the truth goddess," Castiel explained, seating himself down in the chair across from Sam. He watched the younger Winchester slowly close the lid to his laptop, his hazel eyes focused hard on Cas now, full attention given.

"I-I'm not sure I remember the truth goddess, Cas," Sam's shaking tone responded to the angel. "I mean everything is really hazy, really fuzzy. If you could just tell me what all you know from this year, then maybe I can put all this together better, you know?" He tried to force another smile at the angel, but knew he was failing miserably. Sam could feel his hands starting to shake from the anxiety and the nervousness over the prospect of what he may be learning about himself. Soullessness didn't sound good in the least. It even had a cold sound to when said. He quickly hid trembling hands under the table from Castiel's view. Sam composed himself, clearing his throat and leaning forward slightly, face now holding no hint of emotion; body language holding no sense of fear, hurt, anger, nothing. Detached as he could make himself. Though it felt like his soul was threatened to shake apart from the inside out, Sam remained placid and focused.

Castiel nodded. "Of course, Sam. What ever I can do to help," the angel responded in an earnest voice, as it was very evident that Castiel did want to help him, and Sam wasn't going to back out of his chance to find out. "Dean was cursed by the truth goddess, Veritas and was able to get the truth out of anybody he asked it from. We first learned that there was something severely wrong with you when you were able to basically...keep the truth from your brother and tell him things that weren't the truth while he was cursed," the angel paused, Sam noticed, and squinted his eyes as if observing Sam, trying to take in what the young hunter might be feeling, but Sam remained completely composed to the best of his ability. He sat and listened to every word the angel told him, internally cringing at the fact that he, yet again, lied to his brother repeatedly it would seem. What did he lie to him about?

"From what I have gathered based upon Dean's words, you were able to 'lie' and the goddess spotted it," Castiel continued. "You two killed her, and then you told Dean that nothing scares you, because you didn't 'feel' it. Dean beat you down profusely, rendering you completely unconscious and injured. That's when I showed up and did a soul check on you as well as healed your injuries." Sam couldn't help but feel a wave of warm gratitude toward the angel at that. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to have people care about him. "Dean explained everything to me, and it didn't sound normal. I'm sorry, Sam. We learned then that you were without your soul; a very vital party to your humanity was gone. You were empty inside, cold," the angel bowed his head momentarily before looking back at Sam.

Sam swallowed hard and cleared his throat to make sure his voice would remain steady. "So...you don't know anything prior to that that I might've done? Maybe something that really showed that something was wrong with me?" the younger Winchester inquired, when he felt it was safe to speak.

"Well, there was an incident with some vampires that Dean informed me of," Castiel began, but then he got that look in his eyes again as if deeply scrutinizing the young man. "But that's not really of import," Castiel responded, and Sam couldn't help but wonder what the angel was keeping from him. He decided not to press the issue.

"There was an incident with skinwalkers where Dean told me that you were very willing to double-cross if you were put in the situation at hand. I don't really have the full details, but I do know that Dean told me you had taken innocent lives in your past year in the line of duty, that you just didn't care because you couldn't care about anything or anyone, including Lisa and Ben Braeden. You even told your brother that you didn't care about him," Castiel explained somberly, blue eyes never leaving Sam's face.

Sam felt his own hazel eyes widen at those words. A sucked in a soft gasp at the shock from the angel's words. How could I not care about my own brother? His family, Lisa and Ben? Dean...he's my family. I love my big brother, so why on earth would I say something like that? Soulless or not...I should never stop caring for my brother. So, does this mean I was incapable of feeling anything at all except physical sensations? No compassion for others, no love, no emotion at all? Sam tried to ignore the ache slowly filling his heart at every word Castiel spoke. He was going to maintain composure for as long as he could hold it together, but he still needed to know as much as possible, and since the angel was so willingly open and blunt, Sam would have to take that as a blessing, or maybe not so much. Hearing what his soulless self was like was painful, it hurt, and he couldn't help but wonder what on earth he'd done involving vampires. Sam didn't even want to try and think about it as all sorts of horrible, gruesome images filled his head. He raised a shaking hand and ran it through his hair, refocusing on Castiel.

"I...wow, Cas. That doesn't...that doesn't sound like me at all. I didn't know. Like I said, I just don't remember a whole lot of it. The details are the main things I can't recall," he did his best to lie. Sam never realized just exactly what he'd done, how far he'd gone, how far away from home he truly was. He had his mind, didn't he? Why didn't his mind acknowledge just how terrible something like...everything was? "Is there more, Cas? I mean pretty much the recent stuff is just really hard to remember. Can you please, just tell me what else happened? Please?" the younger Winchester pleaded softly, turning his eyes up toward Castiel's, using the pleading expression he normally used to get what he wanted or needed. "I have to know."

The angel nodded his head. "Yes, Sam. There is more, but are you sure? I mean if this is getting to be too hard on you, I'll stop. I do not have any intentions on hurting you, Sam. I'd never want to do that, to your or your brother. If me filling you in on what's happened is going to hurt you, I'd rather stop."

Sam stared at Castiel surprisingly. For an angel away from humans and people and in a battle in Heaven for a year and a half, Castiel still seemed to maintain some of that humanity he'd obtained during the year of the apocalypse. "No, Cas. I'm fine," Sam insisted. "I need to know these things...so I can make them right again. I want to know. I have to make it better."

Cas nodded once more before continuing. "There are a couple more incidents that I can tell you of, Sam but I can guarantee you that you are not going to like what you hear," the angel told him, his voice dark and rumbling. "However if you insist, I will tell you."

Sam huffed a slightly exasperated sigh. "Cas, I haven't liked anything that you've told me so far, so what makes this any different?" He just wanted his answers, and he wanted them in detail, no matter how much it might hurt. He had to know.

"Alright then. You called to me, told me you found a golden box that when it was opened it...melted people's faces off or the Ark of the Covenant." Sam cocked an eyebrow at the angel, somewhat perturbed. Why on earth would he use the plot to Raiders of the Lost Ark in order to call Castiel down? His answer came when angel started speaking again. "When you called me down for help, you wouldn't listen to a word I said. I was in mid-battle in Heaven when you called for me, and when I tried to explain that, you told me that you didn't care about my fight with Raphael. You said that I owed you. You told me that if I didn't help you, that you would hunt me down... and you would kill me," Castiel told him, eyes still bearing down into Sam's, his voice sounding ever so slightly dismal. Sam slid his eyes away from the angel's, finding it difficult to stare back into those serious, vibrant blues

"You told me that you would find a way because you didn't sleep. Which, that is another thing. You didn't, Sam. You didn't sleep at all." Sam could see Castiel beginning to struggle with what he was telling the younger Winchester, but he didn't care. As much as this was affecting him, Sam would not let the angel know it. He needed these answers. It was important. Castiel continued. "Which when you told me that, it was the first indication that something was seriously wrong inside of you, soulless or not. When you threatened me like that was when I truly realized you needed help, but I feared for your soul down in that cage. I was afraid that if we pulled your soul from the cage and put it back inside of you that it would break you. Being trapped down there so long with Michael and Lucifer taking their anger and frustrations out on you, skinning you alive, who knows what could've happened. That's why I didn't want Dean to do it. I didn't want you to die, Sam."

Sam was honestly speechless. He just nodded his head at his friend in gratitude and offered another fake, patented Sam Winchester half-smile. All of this that Cas was telling him, it was hard to take it all in. He'd need time to process everything. "So uhhh...is that all or did I do more?" Sam questioned the angel with a short, fake laugh to accompany his words. The young Winchester brought a hand to the base of his neck and ran his fingers through the tips of his hair.

"There is one more thing...but I honestly question if I should tell you this or not. Perhaps you should know. Things might make a little more sense to you," Castiel responded uncertainty heard in his voice. Sam nodded his head forward, giving the angel the go-ahead. "Your soul. You...didn't want it back. After you'd heard myself, Crowley, and Meg go on about how damaged it was, and what it would do to you, you decided that you no longer wanted it. You walked away from Dean and left him hanging, wondering where you were. You summoned Balthazar for help with a spell to scar your vessel and keep the soul from re-entering your body. The spell you wanted was very complex as it required the blood of your father," Castiel paused, hesitance shown clearly in his bright blue gaze, but the angel took a breath and continued. "Though your father, John Winchester, was already dead, the spell doesn't require that your father be that of blood kin," Cas explained, folding his hands on the table. "Sam, you...," Castiel hesitated, to look up at the younger Winchester who was now staring at him in earnest.

"What did I do...Cas? You have to tell me. I need to know," the fear was showing clear as day in his eyes now, and Sam knew that, but he had to know. Sam pursed his lips, and held firm. Something had happened with Bobby. It had to of, and the young hunter could feel his heart pounding erratically against his ribcage, and his breathing picked up. He feared the worst, clasping his hands tight together underneath the trouble in attempt to assuage the trembling, trying to keep his entire body from trembling.

"You attempted to kill Bobby Singer, so you could use his blood for the spell in order to keep your soul from making a renewed entrance into your body. You hunted him down in his house, and nearly succeeded. You were going to stab him, but Dean got to you just in time. Had Dean not been there a second sooner, you would've plunged a knife right into Bobby's throat," Castiel told him, his eyes staring straight into Sam's, his voice unfaltering.

And just like that, Sam felt like he was falling all over again, faster and faster before crashing, hitting rock bottom. He didn't think his heart could pound any heavier or drop any further than it had. He didn't think the tightness in his chest would ever cease, to ease up, in fact growing ever more tighter that it ached. The burning began in his eyes again, and Sam stood up, pushing his chair back roughly and ran both hands through his hair. The younger Winchester turned away from the angel who followed suit and stood directly after Sam did. Sam could feel Castiel's stare burning a hole through the back of his head. He placed his hand over his mouth, holding tightly onto his chin to keep it from trembling and closed his eyes painfully. He slowly ran his fingers down his chin, keeping his body turned away from Castiel. He couldn't handle facing the angel right now. At least he knew why Bobby had been avoiding him like the plague now.

Sam didn't resent Castiel for telling him the things he'd done. And what was this vampire incident? If Cas hadn't wanted to tell him, it had to of been terrible, something horrible that only his soulless mind would've depicted right? Sam could feel the sobs starting to build in his chest, the tears burn his eyes and cling to his lashes, no matter how tightly his eyes were closed, and at that very moment all he could feel was a strong self-loathing settle over himself. Something that he'd hoped he would've never had to feel again, especially after throwing himself into Hell for billions of people that didn't even know him nor care. Hadn't he suffered enough? Did he still not deserve redemption? Was this something he was going to have earn all over again? Sam felt weary as he fought his tears and the thoughts began drowning him.

"Sam, you must understand something though," the angel's voice reverberated from behind Sam. "None of this was you. Sam, the real you was trapped down in a cage being undeservingly tossed back and forth between Michael and Lucifer. You can't blame yourself for any of this," Castiel insisted, and Sam could hear what sounded like possible regret in the angel's tone. Perhaps he was regretting telling Sam anything at all.

"Yeah, ummm...if it's okay, Cas. I'd just...I-I'd like to be alone for now," Sam told the angel through a tight throat, his voice going hoarse from trying to control the tears he felt building in the back of his throat.

"As you wish," Cas responded softly, and Sam didn't even hear him leave, his own thoughts were just clouding his mind, blocking out all sound, drowning out all vision. All he could see was himself killing brutally, ruthlessly, no expression in his eyes. Sam wasn't sure if it was just an image he was pulling up from his own imagination or real memories.

Sam continued to stand, staring at nothing, trying to piece everything together. From what Cas had told him, Sam lied repeatedly to his brother, pretended to care about him, Lisa and Ben when he really didn't give a rat's ass. He'd killed innocent people, there was a vampire incident that Castiel couldn't even repeat, he didn't sleep at all since he'd came back soulless apparently, he'd threatened to hunt his friend down and kill him, and worst of all, he nearly killed Bobby. The man who had been a father to him, that he'd been like a son to. It made sense now, why Bobby was so fidgety and uncomfortable around him, and Sam didn't blame him one single bit. If the tables were turned, Sam would probably feel the exact same way. And the whole year before that, what Cas didn't tell him, what he didn't remember or didn't know? Who knows what he could have done back then.

How many people did he kill this year? Who's blood was on his hands? Were they women? Men? Children? What happened to saving people and hunting things like his father and Dean had taught him? Why didn't his soulless self understand that? Did he have no moral compass? Was he just a raging psychopath of a soulless man traveling the world and hunting so ruthlessly without a care in the world as it would seem? What ever happened to the compassionate, caring hunter who saved lives that he thought he was, Sam didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.

His breath hitched, and a sob lodged itself in his throat. How would he even began trying to fix any of this? He felt like somebody had drugged him, but when he woke up, he was the one who caused the mass destruction, he burnt the entire city down, he killed the innocent people and didn't even know it, didn't even remember it despite what he'd been told. It was still all his fault. It was always his fault. He thought for once in his life he'd finally done something good and been rewarded by getting his life back and getting to be with his big brother, Bobby and Cas again. Hunting creatures and saving lives like he'd been taught to do. Evidently not. Sam breathed out a heavy, quivering breath and dropped on the edge of the bed, his legs turning to jello underneath him could no longer hold him upright, and hid his face in his hands. How was he going to even begin to apologize for the things he'd done to his brother, to Bobby?

Sam no longer had the will to control the tears, and he let them come willingly, allowing the silent sobs to fill his aching chest and burst out, hitching his shoulders, catching his breath. He could feel the tears running thick and fast, falling into his hands and slipping through in between his fingers, and he squeezed his eyes shut as tight as possible, the pain consuming him. He was grateful in a way that Dean wasn't here but at the same time longing for the warmth and comfort of his big brother putting his arms around him, stroking his hair, holding onto the back of his neck with rough fingers, letting him know that everything was going to be okay, but did Sam really deserve any that after what he'd done? After telling Dean he didn't give a shit about him? And what was this vampire incident that Cas couldn't repeat? Had he done something to his brother? What if he let Dean get hurt? What if he just stood there while somebody else was bled dry, or worse?

The thoughts only made him cry harder as he pushed his face harder into his hands, his fingers pressing against his leaking eyes, but the tears still escaped through the cracks in between his fingers. His heart ached at the prospect of the horrible things he'd done. Had he even gone so far as to hurt his brother too? Did Castiel know that at all? How far had he truly fallen into darkness this time? Maybe Dean would know. Again at the thought of Dean, another sob found it's way out of the new fissure that had ripped it's way through Sam's once-healed heart, and he longed for his big brother. Deserving of it or not, Sam needed that human contact so badly it was nearly unbearable, and as if his thoughts were read, Sam felt a hand place itself against his shoulder and squeeze ever so lightly. Sam sniffled, removing his hands away from his face, the tears blurring his eyes and looked up, almost expecting to see Dean standing there, but instead the face of Castiel stared down at him holding what looked like empathy in his eyes for the young hunter.

The angel's brow furrowed, his eyes searching and worried and caring for his friend. Sam felt his own brow draw further upward toward his forehead. Castiel placed his other hand on Sam's shoulder and pulled the younger man toward him to hold him. Sam didn't resist Castiel hugging him this time. Undeserving or not, Sam wasn't going to refuse his friend's comfort. He needed it. Sam buried his face into Castiel's stomach, one arm around the angel's waist, pulling him in closer, one hand gripping the celestial's trench coat as if it were a lifeline, and he cried...hard. His sobs so profound they were silent and shook his entire body, every single one expressing just how much hurt, pain, shame, guilt that he felt and more. Sam felt Castiel's arms squeeze tighter around around his shoulders, clinging to him, and Sam buried himself even further into the angel, as if he were trying to crawl underneath the tan trench and hide himself away from world, from life, from the truth.

Sam didn't know how long he'd sat like this, his arm wound around the angel, sobbing into his torso when he felt Castiel's gentle hand rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades, and Sam had to wonder where on earth Cas had learned such a warm, human expression, such a human touch of comfort, but it didn't matter. He just continued to let his tears come, allowed them to find the release that they needed. Later, he'd figure all of it out. Right now, he needed this.

"Sam. None of it was you. None of it all. Don't blame yourself. You don't deserve to blame yourself. You saved the world by sacrificing your own life. You overcame the Devil with your pure soul, your good heart. You put Lucifer back in his cage. You stopped the apocalypse. You deserve nothing but praise, so don't start down that path again. You no longer need redemption, Sam. You've already obtained it," Castiel spoke softy, his rolling voice comforting, to the young hunter, crying his heart out into his coat and did not cease rubbing Sam's back. "None at all, Sam."

But Sam couldn't respond to him. Instead he just sunk further into the angel's warm embrace. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even trust himself to talk if he tried. Castiel's words were kind, heartfelt for an angel and meant a lot to him. Kind words from that of a friend who truly cared for him, but it didn't change what he'd done, soulless or not. It didn't make him believe any different from what he felt, understood, realized. The zippo was still in his pocket. It changed nothing, but Sam was going to try fix what he could, and make right his wrongs, no matter what it took.

~End