entry 051 - spn [big bang, 2011; part 6 of 7]
Title: I'm A Soldier, But I've Got No Soul [Part 6 of 7 Parts]
Author: jamie_love13
Beta-Edited: singlemomsummer
Artist: kj_svala
Pairings/Characters: One-Sided Sam/Ruby, slight Sam/Dean, but it's barely there. Looks more like brotherly love than 'cest.
Word Count: 20, 502 Words
Rating: PG-13 for violence and blood.
Genre: Angst.
Spoilers: All episodes up to now.
Status: Complete
Summary: Dean misses Sam like nothing else, but he doesn't know Sam stayed away on purpose, and he sure as hell didn't think that there would be so many lies, truths and blood.
Disclaimer: Do not own. At all.
Warnings: Graphic, violent scenes; blood; death. Hell.
Notes: Acknowledgements, soundtrack, notes on beta-editing and thank you's are at the end.
Chapter Five
Dean looked from the demon with the yellow eyes, back to the demon with the sometimes hazel eyes that was currently bleeding out beside him. He bit his lip, still looking between the two demons, trying so hard to understand what was going on at the moment. He couldn’t believe that the yellow-eyed bastard was telling the truth, especially since he had admitted many times to being a liar, but by the way that Kyle (Sam?) was looking, Dean couldn’t exactly be too sure. His eyes were wide, the hazel truly showing at that, his bottom lip quivering while he looked between Dean and everyone else, almost like he wanted to reach out and touch them. Azazel had a wicked grin on his face, happy and delighted that he bested the best of them, even if he was trapped. When Dean turned to look at his father, he saw exactly what he was feeling strewn across his father’s face, John being unable to completely hide his feelings well enough in this instance. Dean turned to Bobby next, and he noticed that while Bobby was looking down, wringing his hands, he didn’t look surprised, didn’t look shocked. In fact, if Dean was going to be completely honest with himself, Bobby looked like he knew who Kyle (Sam?!) really was this whole time and that it had been brutal for him to keep such a secret. Dean scrunched up his face in frustration, realizing that that was indeed what Bobby was feeling, and he couldn’t help but feel a little anger at the man he idolized enough to be called an uncle.
Then Dean remembered, when Kyle (No, SAM!) was stating who Ammolite (Ruby Singer) was, he had started to call Bobby Uncle Bobby, and fuck, if that didn’t take the cake for Dean, because if he didn’t know and Bobby did, what the hell would that say about the trust he had for Sam.
Dean looked back at the man next to him, and he could finally see why he trusted this man so much, why he always felt the need to hold him safely in the tightness of his arms. Upon closer inspection, he saw that Kyle, though a vessel, did indeed look a lot like Sam did, just, aged more. The hair was the same color and thickness, just a different length. The eyes were the same color when he got angry enough and decided to not go the normal demon black, but they were also the same width apart, the same length, the same everything. If Dean inspected his eyes more closely, he was positive that he would end up seeing right through the window of the eyes, and would see his Sammy, the Sammy he hadn’t seen in so long.
But Dean also remembered everything the demon - Kyle, no, Sam! - had done for him and he couldn’t help but have his eyes roam over his baby brother’s body. Sam had sure filled out, no doubt because of the torture that Sam had to go through, both physical and not-so physical. He had grown taller, more demanding and confident, and maybe that was why he was able to do everything he ever did for Dean since they started working as a team. He held the dogs that were suppose to kill him, a testimonial to his inner strength, as it must have taken so much to control those things from just ripping Dean apart. He was able to do something to his blood so that Dean wouldn’t die which was a testimonial to his willpower and patience in a sticky situation. The way he always stood up for Dean, even against people of his own kind. Hell, he had killed other demons protecting Dean. Why hadn’t dean noticed sooner that this guy and Sam shared a lot of the same attributes, at least? Then Dean came to the abrupt notice that here he was, scrutinizing himself for not recognizing who Kyle really was sooner, when Kyle, no, Sammy, was bleeding out next to him because he was being protected.
“Oh god, Sammy,” he whispered, sliding over instinctively to put pressure on his brother’s wounds. He saw Sam look up, saw a small smile grace his face before he looked back down and grimaced.
“It hurts so much, Dee” Sam moaned, trying so hard not to let any more blood slip through. Dean felt tears slide down his cheeks at the mention of Sam’s nickname for him when he was younger, and he grabbed his baby brother’s other hand and began squeezing it, sobs wracking out of his chest.
“You can’t leave me Sammy, not when I just got you back,” Dean mumbled right into Sam’s ears, causing a slight shiver to appear in Sam. Dean let go of Sam’s hand, using his now free hand to turn Sam’s face in to look at him. His eyes were completely hazel now, no sign of demon anywhere near him and Dean broke down, burying his face in the crook of Sam’s neck. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t stop himself from mumbling Sammy, Sammy, Sammy over and over again; exactly like he couldn’t stop the blood flow from Sam to slow down, to stop altogether, not because there was no more blood but because Sam was miraculously saved from whatever pain he would have to go through. His heart hurt so much, and all he could think about was don’t lose him again, god dammit, please.
Because Dean couldn’t let Sam be lost to him, especially so soon after getting him back. He would take every bad thought ever thought of, every bad word towards Sam ever mentioned back, if it meant he could have his little Sammy back.
“Dean,” he heard Sam say, breaking him out of his inner thoughts. Sam was now deathly pale, his lips a dark purple and his eyes heavy with bags underneath them. Dean choked back a sob for Sam’s sake, which just got harder when Sam decided to run his fingers up the side of Dean’s cheek, slowly, tantalizingly.
“Dean, you have to let me go,” Sam whispered, not wanting to even go there in his thoughts. Dean shook his head, tightening his hold on his little brother, promising himself he would never let him go.
“I always loved you Sammy. I can’t let you go now, not again.” He moaned, burying his face in his brother’s neck one more time. He could feel what little breath Sam had left hitch and looked up through the long eyelashes he had that girls would die for, peering nervously at his little brother.
Sam had a smile on his face, albeit a sad smile. He always wondered, always thought that if anyone could save him, it could be Dean.
“I always loved you too Dean. Killed me so much, having to leave and not take you with me -- was so different, that whole year without you. I’d always turn around to tell you something, and you were never there, and it always broke my heart,” Sam finished, blood coming out of his mouth now. Dean sobbed, greedy hands grabbing for his brother, greedy eyes ignoring everyone around him, ignoring the pitying looks they gave him whenever tears came down his face. Sam was in his lap now, no longer caring about the fact that his blood was leaving his body, that he had barely any blood left in him and that he was growing weaker by the second. None of that mattered to Sam, because he was with Dean and Dean was with him.
“Don’t leave Sam,” Dean choked, pressing a kiss to Sam’s temple
“Never, Dean. God, never would I willingly leave you.”
“Don’t leave me at all, willingly or not.”
“I have to. I’m losing it, Dean. You’re losing it. You have to let me go.”
“I can’t, dammit. Not after I just got you back!” Dean growls just before pressing a desperate kiss to Sam’s lips, pushing all of his emotions into that one kiss. Sam pushes back as best as he can with very little blood coursing through his veins, but anyone around the two of them can tell that they make each other feel alive and the fact that Sam is leaving is just heartbreaking. All too soon, the kiss is broken and there’s a mixture of sweat, blood and tears between the two of them. All around the ground, their clothes were covered and neither brothers cared.
“Dean...” Sam croaked, stroking Dean’s cheek one more time.
“I love you so much Sammy.”
“I know Dean. Promise me you won’t die?”
“Promise with my all, Sammy.” Sam closed his eyes, at peace with himself, for he finally got the happily ever after. His brother and father were safe, well and alive. Dean knew how he felt about him and Sam knew how Dean felt about him and Dean would no longer be on the run from death.
---
John Winchester watched as his oldest son cradled his youngest son in his arms, crying his eyes out more than he could ever remember doing so before. He watched as he put him down lightly, afraid to jostle him as if he were just asleep. He watched as Dean stood up with a look of pure agony on his face and watched as he checked his emotions, swallowing down for the time being so he could remain strong. It wasn’t until John heard a very familiar chuckle that he remembered the demon currently standing in a devil’s trap. The demon that had singlehandedly ruined his god damn entire life and his entire family. He turns his whole body away from his eldest, hurt to do so, and glares at the yellow-eyed bastard, ready to pounce on him when a movement in the corner of his eye makes him stop.
Dean has stepped forward, has grabbed John’s colt from the ground, John having no idea how it arrived to be on the ground in the first place. Dean steps forward some more, and it takes everything John has not to punch Azazel’s lights out when he chuckles again.
“What ‘cha gonna do with that gun there, Dean?” He laughs, tilting his head back, showing the arch of his neck. His eyes are glowing a sharper yellow again, and somehow, John knows that it won’t be him exacting revenge on this bastard, and for some reason, he’s perfectly fine by that. After all, he’s had twenty-five years to exact revenge on every supernatural entity that he killed for his Mary’s sake, while Dean hasn’t even had five minutes. Though John knows that to his oldest, it probably feels like an eternity has passed.
“Exactly what you think I’m going to do with this gun, asshole,” Dean growls back, cocking the gun, his hands shaking in hurt. His emotions aren’t in check, they’re everywhere, and John knows that that makes a dangerous situation, a situation that can easily be reversed by the enemy. And damn, does John ever want to go up there and help his son out, help his son out in ways he obviously couldn’t help out his other son. And that though hurts him the most that so many years had passed between him and Sam not talking, that none of them bothered to check the school to find out how Sam had been doing. Last they had heard, Bobby had told John that Sam was doing fine, seeing as Bobby...
John stutters that thought right there. Bobby had been saying Sam had been fine for the past five years. What the hell? He turns to Bobby angrily, his eyes hardening and he knows that Bobby knows.
“You knew the whole time Bobby, didn’t you?” He’s angry, he spits that one sentence out, not caring if Bobby’s whole figure deflated.
“Yeah John, I knew. It was kind of hard not to when you hear it happen through the phone and then you have to go there and bury them.” John sort of softens at that, not because he knows it would have been hard, but because he knows that when Bobby says them, he doesn’t just mean Sam, or Ellen’s boy Ash. Bobby also means the only family he had left since a demon originally destroyed it.
“Why didn’t you tell us Bobby? Why let us go on thinking Sam was fine?” John’s hurt, and if you listen close enough, you can hear it in his voice. He doesn’t know why Bobby would keep something like this a secret, hold it in his soul for such a long time. Surely, surely he wanted John to know?
“I couldn’t tell you! Not on that day, never on that day! Would have been horrible, hearing that Sam, only twenty years old was coming home on Dean’s birthday. That he was killed because his girlfriend was jealous.”
“How do you know she was jealous?” That was Ellen, and she had every right to ask, seeing as Jo never seemed like the jealous type.
“It’s in the way she glared at Dean,” Bobby whispered, looking over at the torn body of Sam.
“It was so horrible, John. Blood everywhere, Sam laying in his own pool of it. He was on his back, in a white, bright room with the sun shining down on him. He had his arm outstretched, and just out of reach was his phone, blood covering that.” John gulps, visualizing how it must have ended the first time for Sam. It’s a scary fact, realizing that your son was killed by hellhounds - twice.
“You know well, Bobby,” Azazel chuckles, stepping forward.
“Shut up.” Dean’s voice erupted, a loudness to it that John has never heard. He raises his arm with the gun in it, pointing it directly at Azazel who just laughs as if the fact that Dean plans on killing him with that gun is ludicrous.
“You killed him.” Dean whispers now, and Azazel is laughing, and fuck if John can tell that Dean’s temper is going to erupt like a volcano at any moment.
“SHUT UP SHUT UP, SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU BASTARD!” John hears the shot of the gun, actually sees the bullet leave his holder, circle to the demon and land straight in his heart. For someone so emotionally unstable, John can’t help but be proud of his son’s aim. When he looks over to Azazel, he sees that Azazel’s eyes are fading of the yellow, a sea of lightning flashing all along his skin, like the power is overtaking him. Azazel’s eyes are wide, dark, afraid. John doesn’t know what they could be afraid of, but maybe he doesn’t care either. The demon falls as a crumpled heat in the middle of the trap and after a few seconds, Dean lights a matchstick, throwing it the demon’s way. John somehow didn’t notice the fact that salt was already poured on the bastard, because he was too busy watching Dean pick up his baby brother and walk out of the place with him, which just ended up being a hotel room with some modifications on it.
“Dean...” John tries to get through to his oldest, needs to make him understand that there’s nothing he could possibly do to get Sammy back.
“Don’t, Dad.” Dean replies, gritting his teeth before walking out the door, for what feels like forever.
Previous Part || Part 7
Masterpost