SPN BigBang: Here We Still Remain - Prologue
See masterpost for summary and further information.
Prologue
The first time was different.
The first time happened when Sam was alone, desperate and so very tired. He’d left Dean who did not want him back, had no place to go and the dreams that tormented him were so bad that stopping to sleep seemed the only way to make them go away.
At first he had dreamt of Jessica. She’d been with him in his bed and it had felt so real that he couldn’t convince himself she wasn’t. That it wasn’t really Jess who’d come back to him, who didn’t hate him and still cared enough for a warning, even if it was a warning he didn’t want to hear. He wanted it to be her so badly - there had been times since her death when he would have cut off his arm just to see her one more time, to tell her he how sorry he was, how much he regretted what happened to her. To explain. To tell her how much he loved her. He never did that when he had the chance - not often enough. Not strongly enough. There were so many things he should have told her and never did, but what he wanted most of all was for his last memory of her to not be the smell of burning flesh.
As he should have known it would be. As he would have known if only he had listened to his dreams then.
In his dreams now, Jess didn’t blame him. She didn’t demand answers, or revenge. Instead, she was worried about him, and even though he didn’t agree with what she told him, Sam was happy just to have her near him, for a moment. His life was difficult and lonely - every hunter now knew what he had done and every person who liked him only did so because they didn’t know. But in his dreams Jess was waiting for him. Every night. For the first time in many years sleep wasn’t something to fear.
And then it wasn’t Jess but Lucifer who had Sam falling for it. Had him falling for it again, after already letting himself be tricked into ending the world. And it turned out that that wasn’t the worst yet, that Sam hadn’t yet reached the full potential of how badly he could fuck up.
He was Lucifer’s vessel. Lucifer needed him to rule the world, just like he had needed Sam before to get out of his cage and gotten exactly what he wanted.
The worst was that Lucifer cared. That he was sorry. That he wanted to help Sam while Dean only turned his back.
Sam fled that same night. He didn’t think he would be safe from the Devil anywhere at all, no; he left because he needed to get back to Dean. He was already well on his way when he called his brother to ask where they could meet and Dean hung up on him.
After the call, Sam pulled his stolen car to the side of the road and just sat in it, not knowing where to go. He had never expected this to happen. No matter how much he messed things up, he never thought he could push Dean so far that he never wanted to see his brother again. Dean was the only constant in Sam’s life, the only thing he took for granted.
Now Sam was alone and Dean… wasn’t. Dean was with Castiel, the angel who embodied everything Sam once believed in and who despised him for existing. Together they were fighting to stop what Sam had started, not letting Sam help because he would only fuck things up even more. And because Dean couldn’t bear to have him around anymore. Certainly, every problem they ran into reminded him of Sam’s mistakes, made him glad that at least he didn’t have to see his face anymore. Sam couldn’t blame him. He didn’t exactly love himself these days, hadn’t for a very long time, but until now he had found some selfish consolation in the knowledge that someone did.
At least he didn’t have to worry about Dean. Dean wasn’t on his own, he had an angel to watch out for him. Sam didn’t even have an excuse to go and see if Dean was alright; if he did, Dean would tell him that Cas had his back, more reliable and trustworthy than Sam had ever been. His place was taken.
Dean didn’t need him anymore.
Maybe he never did in the first place. Maybe he just needed someone. And if Sam was honest with himself, he never played that part very well. What had he ever done for his brother but take all he offered, let him go to Hell and then end the world as a reward?
He couldn’t blame Dean for liking Cas better when the angel had saved him, rebelled against Heaven for him and helped him try to save the world from Sam’s arrogance.
Sam couldn’t blame him. But it still hurt.
And he didn’t know what to do. He knew he had to fight Lucifer, find a way to make up for his mistakes and stop the apocalypse no matter what it cost him, but that night after the call he couldn’t summon the energy to even start the car. The despair was crippling. He couldn’t even turn to Bobby because sooner or later he would run into Dean and he couldn’t do that to his brother. He couldn’t do it to Bobby and he wouldn’t do it to himself.
Bobby was part of the team and Sam wasn’t. So he couldn’t bother the man, period.
Bobby had said he didn’t hate Sam for what had done. Sam didn’t want to push his luck and find out that that wasn’t all true either. He needed to hold on to something.
Dean and Bobby were the only ones he had, and now he had to savour whatever memories hadn’t yet been tainted.
Sam kept staring at the street, at the occasional red back light of cars driving by. He had been alone before. Never because no one wanted him, but he knew how to act on his own, without backup. And he would do it. He’d take responsibility and fight all alone if he had to. Tomorrow. Or even tonight. He would start the car as soon as he could breathe freely again.
The sun was beginning to rise when the so very familiar rumble of an engine pulled him out of his thoughts. Sam looked up to see the Impala pull up behind him and then Dean got out, coming over without hesitation. Sam met him halfway but the expected blow didn’t come. Instead, Dean gave him a somewhat awkward smile that lifted a heavy weight off Sam’s heart.
“Guess I could need you after all,” he said.
Sam smiled back, a little shy, a little unsure. He didn’t want to seem so needy.
“Where’s Cas?” he asked, because he didn’t see the angel anywhere, and if he wasn’t with Dean he had to do something important.
“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “He’s somewhere. Doing something. You know how he is.” He shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t really care. He’ll show up when he’s got something.”
Sam couldn’t quite hide his surprise. “I thought you’d, you know. Care more.”
“Actually, well.” Dean seemed a little embarrassed - he looked like he did when searching for words that didn’t sound girly. “Thing is, he’s not you. That’s why I’m here. Cas is a great guy, but he can’t replace you. Too many awkward silences. I just wanted my little brother back. Guess I needed to be without you for a while to get what I’m missing.”
This time, Sam couldn’t suppress his smile and he hoped with all he had that Dean didn’t notice the wetness in his eyes. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he admitted.
“Actually, I do.” Suddenly Dean’s hands wrapped around Sam’s face and pulled him close and Sam’s first reaction was to jerk back because that was wrong, Dean didn’t act like that. Dean didn’t close his eyes and whisper into Sam’s face, “Remember I am here for you! I would never let you down!”
Sam didn’t move, was paralysed for a long moment by shock and desperation, and when he finally managed to pull away, he found himself back in the car with tears running down his cheeks. Alone.
He hit the road and drove until he couldn’t see straight anymore. He never looked for a motel, never thought about finding a place to sleep. His thoughts were running in circles around a dark place that was of no use to anyone. There was no point in looking for anything and he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t fall asleep again. Things only got worse when he did and they were already so very bad.
When he reached the point where he had to either stop or risk running someone over with his car, he parked the stolen vehicle a little off he road between threes, put his gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Just as Lucifer prophesised he woke up before noon, with dried blood and little clunks of flesh and bone decorating the windows. A headache was all that was left of what must once have been an impressive hole in his skull.
It was the first time he killed himself but far from the last. Sam tried sleeping again, but Lucifer came every night - every night if he let him - and Sam couldn’t bear it. He might go crazy. He didn’t trust himself not to give in because his track record sucked and already he found himself longing for the kindness and understanding Lucifer offered when no one else did.
Sam wanted that, but he didn’t want it from the Devil. He never for one moment forgot who he was dealing with or that this man - this thing - was responsible for everything bad that ever happened to his family. To Jess.
That Lucifer dared to show him kindness disgusted him. That a weak, broken part of him wanted to accept it disgusted him more.
He wished Lucifer would just torture him. Torture he deserved, at least, and knew how to deal with.
With the dreams he couldn’t deal, and worst of all was that he couldn’t deal with waking up. So Sam threw himself into research, searched for a way to fix what he broke without ever stopping for breath, and when he got too tired to fight sleep any longer, he killed himself and came back to life - not well rested but less tired at least. All the wounds he got while hunting healed along with the one that killed him, leaving him fit for the task. It wasn’t the worst way of dealing with the situation, he thought. Better than giving in. Better than giving up.
By the time Dean sent for him, Sam had already killed himself four times and though he knew that was something he’d better hide from his brother, he saw no reason to stop doing what worked so well.
But the first time had been different.
The first time he hadn’t known for sure that he would come back.
chapter 1
Prologue
The first time was different.
The first time happened when Sam was alone, desperate and so very tired. He’d left Dean who did not want him back, had no place to go and the dreams that tormented him were so bad that stopping to sleep seemed the only way to make them go away.
At first he had dreamt of Jessica. She’d been with him in his bed and it had felt so real that he couldn’t convince himself she wasn’t. That it wasn’t really Jess who’d come back to him, who didn’t hate him and still cared enough for a warning, even if it was a warning he didn’t want to hear. He wanted it to be her so badly - there had been times since her death when he would have cut off his arm just to see her one more time, to tell her he how sorry he was, how much he regretted what happened to her. To explain. To tell her how much he loved her. He never did that when he had the chance - not often enough. Not strongly enough. There were so many things he should have told her and never did, but what he wanted most of all was for his last memory of her to not be the smell of burning flesh.
As he should have known it would be. As he would have known if only he had listened to his dreams then.
In his dreams now, Jess didn’t blame him. She didn’t demand answers, or revenge. Instead, she was worried about him, and even though he didn’t agree with what she told him, Sam was happy just to have her near him, for a moment. His life was difficult and lonely - every hunter now knew what he had done and every person who liked him only did so because they didn’t know. But in his dreams Jess was waiting for him. Every night. For the first time in many years sleep wasn’t something to fear.
And then it wasn’t Jess but Lucifer who had Sam falling for it. Had him falling for it again, after already letting himself be tricked into ending the world. And it turned out that that wasn’t the worst yet, that Sam hadn’t yet reached the full potential of how badly he could fuck up.
He was Lucifer’s vessel. Lucifer needed him to rule the world, just like he had needed Sam before to get out of his cage and gotten exactly what he wanted.
The worst was that Lucifer cared. That he was sorry. That he wanted to help Sam while Dean only turned his back.
Sam fled that same night. He didn’t think he would be safe from the Devil anywhere at all, no; he left because he needed to get back to Dean. He was already well on his way when he called his brother to ask where they could meet and Dean hung up on him.
After the call, Sam pulled his stolen car to the side of the road and just sat in it, not knowing where to go. He had never expected this to happen. No matter how much he messed things up, he never thought he could push Dean so far that he never wanted to see his brother again. Dean was the only constant in Sam’s life, the only thing he took for granted.
Now Sam was alone and Dean… wasn’t. Dean was with Castiel, the angel who embodied everything Sam once believed in and who despised him for existing. Together they were fighting to stop what Sam had started, not letting Sam help because he would only fuck things up even more. And because Dean couldn’t bear to have him around anymore. Certainly, every problem they ran into reminded him of Sam’s mistakes, made him glad that at least he didn’t have to see his face anymore. Sam couldn’t blame him. He didn’t exactly love himself these days, hadn’t for a very long time, but until now he had found some selfish consolation in the knowledge that someone did.
At least he didn’t have to worry about Dean. Dean wasn’t on his own, he had an angel to watch out for him. Sam didn’t even have an excuse to go and see if Dean was alright; if he did, Dean would tell him that Cas had his back, more reliable and trustworthy than Sam had ever been. His place was taken.
Dean didn’t need him anymore.
Maybe he never did in the first place. Maybe he just needed someone. And if Sam was honest with himself, he never played that part very well. What had he ever done for his brother but take all he offered, let him go to Hell and then end the world as a reward?
He couldn’t blame Dean for liking Cas better when the angel had saved him, rebelled against Heaven for him and helped him try to save the world from Sam’s arrogance.
Sam couldn’t blame him. But it still hurt.
And he didn’t know what to do. He knew he had to fight Lucifer, find a way to make up for his mistakes and stop the apocalypse no matter what it cost him, but that night after the call he couldn’t summon the energy to even start the car. The despair was crippling. He couldn’t even turn to Bobby because sooner or later he would run into Dean and he couldn’t do that to his brother. He couldn’t do it to Bobby and he wouldn’t do it to himself.
Bobby was part of the team and Sam wasn’t. So he couldn’t bother the man, period.
Bobby had said he didn’t hate Sam for what had done. Sam didn’t want to push his luck and find out that that wasn’t all true either. He needed to hold on to something.
Dean and Bobby were the only ones he had, and now he had to savour whatever memories hadn’t yet been tainted.
Sam kept staring at the street, at the occasional red back light of cars driving by. He had been alone before. Never because no one wanted him, but he knew how to act on his own, without backup. And he would do it. He’d take responsibility and fight all alone if he had to. Tomorrow. Or even tonight. He would start the car as soon as he could breathe freely again.
The sun was beginning to rise when the so very familiar rumble of an engine pulled him out of his thoughts. Sam looked up to see the Impala pull up behind him and then Dean got out, coming over without hesitation. Sam met him halfway but the expected blow didn’t come. Instead, Dean gave him a somewhat awkward smile that lifted a heavy weight off Sam’s heart.
“Guess I could need you after all,” he said.
Sam smiled back, a little shy, a little unsure. He didn’t want to seem so needy.
“Where’s Cas?” he asked, because he didn’t see the angel anywhere, and if he wasn’t with Dean he had to do something important.
“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “He’s somewhere. Doing something. You know how he is.” He shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t really care. He’ll show up when he’s got something.”
Sam couldn’t quite hide his surprise. “I thought you’d, you know. Care more.”
“Actually, well.” Dean seemed a little embarrassed - he looked like he did when searching for words that didn’t sound girly. “Thing is, he’s not you. That’s why I’m here. Cas is a great guy, but he can’t replace you. Too many awkward silences. I just wanted my little brother back. Guess I needed to be without you for a while to get what I’m missing.”
This time, Sam couldn’t suppress his smile and he hoped with all he had that Dean didn’t notice the wetness in his eyes. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he admitted.
“Actually, I do.” Suddenly Dean’s hands wrapped around Sam’s face and pulled him close and Sam’s first reaction was to jerk back because that was wrong, Dean didn’t act like that. Dean didn’t close his eyes and whisper into Sam’s face, “Remember I am here for you! I would never let you down!”
Sam didn’t move, was paralysed for a long moment by shock and desperation, and when he finally managed to pull away, he found himself back in the car with tears running down his cheeks. Alone.
He hit the road and drove until he couldn’t see straight anymore. He never looked for a motel, never thought about finding a place to sleep. His thoughts were running in circles around a dark place that was of no use to anyone. There was no point in looking for anything and he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t fall asleep again. Things only got worse when he did and they were already so very bad.
When he reached the point where he had to either stop or risk running someone over with his car, he parked the stolen vehicle a little off he road between threes, put his gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Just as Lucifer prophesised he woke up before noon, with dried blood and little clunks of flesh and bone decorating the windows. A headache was all that was left of what must once have been an impressive hole in his skull.
It was the first time he killed himself but far from the last. Sam tried sleeping again, but Lucifer came every night - every night if he let him - and Sam couldn’t bear it. He might go crazy. He didn’t trust himself not to give in because his track record sucked and already he found himself longing for the kindness and understanding Lucifer offered when no one else did.
Sam wanted that, but he didn’t want it from the Devil. He never for one moment forgot who he was dealing with or that this man - this thing - was responsible for everything bad that ever happened to his family. To Jess.
That Lucifer dared to show him kindness disgusted him. That a weak, broken part of him wanted to accept it disgusted him more.
He wished Lucifer would just torture him. Torture he deserved, at least, and knew how to deal with.
With the dreams he couldn’t deal, and worst of all was that he couldn’t deal with waking up. So Sam threw himself into research, searched for a way to fix what he broke without ever stopping for breath, and when he got too tired to fight sleep any longer, he killed himself and came back to life - not well rested but less tired at least. All the wounds he got while hunting healed along with the one that killed him, leaving him fit for the task. It wasn’t the worst way of dealing with the situation, he thought. Better than giving in. Better than giving up.
By the time Dean sent for him, Sam had already killed himself four times and though he knew that was something he’d better hide from his brother, he saw no reason to stop doing what worked so well.
But the first time had been different.
The first time he hadn’t known for sure that he would come back.
chapter 1