Ab Initio - SPN - Sam/Dean
Title: Ab Initio
Author: youaredriving aka Scarletsptember
Fandom(s), Characters: Supernatural, Sam/Dean
Total Word Count: 20.106
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers for 5x22 after that I take it an entirely different direction. Angst, violence, artistic liberties taken, incest
Summary: It's always been Sam and Dean from the beginning but Sam's time in Hell has changed him. It's made him into the one thing he's feared and he'll do whatever it takes to keep Dean safe. Even if it means staying away. Needing to stay sane he leaves something behind for Dean, just knowing it's there allows him to keep hold on the last threads of his humanity.
Author's Notes: I kind of worked my heart out with this. Did a lot of thinking a lot of re-writing and hoping that everything made sense. I got a ton of people (Okay three, who I owe the world to) to read over this and I feel like this one was a good one.
Dean
Dean sat drumming his fingers as he stared at Bobby’s trying to figure out if he should head on in or turn around and head back out towards the interstate. Chewing on his lip, Dean let out a long sigh thinking back to how many times he had actually called the man. A grand total of none, “Damn it, he’s going to kill me for just showing up.”
Dean flinched at the sound of a barrel of a shotgun tapping against his window. He looked out his window at Bobby and he hit his head on the steering wheel before finally opening the door and getting out of the Impala. “Hey there, Bobby.”
Bobby cocked a brow at Dean, “Hey there, Bobby? That’s all you have to say to me after how long? I didn’t even know if you were still breathing you idjit.” Bobby rested the shotgun against the Impala and promptly popped Dean over the back of the head. He ignored the hiss of pain from the younger man as he gathered him up in a tight hug. “Pick up a damn phone after the next apocalypse. I had to hear from damn feather brains that you were alive.”
“Cas is still around?” Dean pushed back away from Bobby, shocked painted across his face.
“Yeah, he ain’t stopped by to see you? I would have figured you were the first person on his reunion tour.” Bobby pulled at his hat already uncomfortable with the fact that Dean hadn’t gotten his visit from the angel.
“Obviously not,” Dean turned around in a circle, his hands tugging on his hair. “What the hell, Bobby? You get a visit from him but I don’t? My own angel doesn’t visit me?”
“I don’t know what to tell you kid. The angel stopped in late October and that’s the only time I’ve seen him. He just popped in and gave me this weird ass hug and said, ‘It pleases me to see you in good health, Bobby.’ And he disappeared, like it was an everyday occurrence.”
“He’s always been strange, Bobby.” Dean wiped a hand over his lips before heading towards the trunk of the Impala and grabbing his duffle bag along with Sam’s hoodie.
“Right, strange ain’t the word for it, kid. He had me making sure I was taking my pills daily. I was worried I was about to drop dead getting visited by an angel that was supposed to be back up in heaven. Yeah that’s a fun experience right there. Let me tell you.”
“I’d take that over where I’ve been.”
“Yeah?” Bobby grabbed his shotgun and walked side by side with Dean up to the house. “And where have you been exactly? It’s not like you actually let anyone know you were alive and kicking.”
“Lisa’s.” Dean looked down at his boots and sighed. “Look how well that turned out for me.”
“I got a room you can have if you want it.” Bobby tugged on the bill of his hat. “It ain’t much but it’s something if you aren’t going to be on the road.”
“Show me the way so I can throw my shit down and lead me to the nearest case. I gotta do something, Bobby.” Dean looked up and met dark eyes his hand curling tight around Sam’s sweater. “I don’t know how to do anything other than hunting. I gotta do something because this whole trying to be normal ain’t working out too well for me at the moment. It makes my bones hurt.”
“Well the room’s up the stairs and on your right. The one you and,” Bobby stopped himself. “It’s the old one you used to sleep in when your Daddy would drop you off during the summer. It’s cleared out and empty so rest up if you want but you’ll pull your weight when you’re not hunting. Got it?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Dean nodded and took the creaky steps one at a time. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at the closed door. The one he and Sam shared when Dad would drop them off during the summer and Bobby would let them hide out and create whatever mischief and mayhem they wanted for a few days. It was heaven being here those summers. Now, with his hand on the door handle, Dean couldn’t think of any worse hell than this room with out Sam in it.
Sam
“It’s December, Sam.” Castiel spoke from beside Sam at the small cubby hole of a postal box in Ellisville, Mississippi. Sam flipped through the pointless trash that always seemed to appear in the box. Outdated advertisements for local businesses that he never bothered staying in town long enough for to see what was so special about them that they needed advertising.
“I know what month it is, Cas. I can feel the drop in temperature and I’m pretty sure I looked at the date. My cell phone likes to chirp the date at me every time it turns on for some reason.” Sam grumbled before closing the box and locking it. “Why do you feel the need to remind me that it’s December?”
“You are leaving a trail that is becoming stronger every time you head here. They will eventually find you, Sam. They will figure out why you come here.”
Sam rolled his eyes and headed out the post office ignoring the friendly wave from the clerk behind the counter. Before he stepped out into the parking lot he scanned the area. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No heat, no call. There weren’t any demons here. It was just him and Cas here. “They haven’t found me yet, Cas. When they do find me I’ll kill them.”
“You are putting yourself at risk every time you do this.”
Sam spun around slamming a hand into Castiel’s chest. His eyes went wild, a ring of yellow encasing hazel eyes as his breathing became uncontrolled. “He is all I have left! He’s all that’s keeping me here.”
“He hasn’t found the letter yet.” Castiel’s voice grew soft after Sam’s outburst.
“How do you know? How could you possibly know?”
“I have been watching over Dean. He hunts and he keeps the sweater in the safest place he could think of.” Castiel closed his eyes and looked up towards the darkening sky. “It stays at Bobby’s. It stays at the only place he can sleep at night without you by his side.”
“What do I do?” Sam reached out to curl his fingers around Castiel’s trench coat but Castiel moved away from Sam’s touch. Sam flinched from the action and felt another thread of his humanity break away and fall into the acidity of the taint of demon blood littering his veins. “What do I do, Cas? Where am I supposed to go from here?”
“You make a decision, Sam.” Castiel spoke resolutely. “Do you do this by yourself or do you do this with your brother by your side?”
“What exactly am I doing?” Sam sighed as opened the truck but stopped at his reflection. His eyes. The inhumane yellow color that was bleeding in to his hazel green eyes, it was becoming unreal. Another testament to what the demon blood and what his time in hell was doing to him. He was losing his grip on the last traces of his humanity. Sam looked over at Castiel with tears filling his eyes as his voice cracked on his next words, “What exactly am I doing that’s making me such a monster?”
“You’re not a monster Sam. You have never been a monster. And what you are doing right now? You are doing the only thing you can do.” Castiel pressed a hand against Sam’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing against the warm skin of Sam’s neck. “You are surviving, so keep doing that for both your brother and for me.”
Sam swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and he nodded. “Promise me something, Cas.”
“Anything.”
“You’ll watch out for him.” Sam asked. “You’ll go and watch out for him because I can’t. Just don’t let him see you because he’ll know something is up if you’re back.”
“I can do that.” Castiel whispered and the warmth and lightness of Castiel’s touch disappeared from Sam’s skin just as quickly as it appeared. Sam was left alone next to his truck wondering where to go next, wondering he should do.
~*~
Sam found himself sitting in the middle of a motel room in Oklahoma when he penned out another letter to Dean. It was close to Christmas and it was going to be the first on in a long time he didn’t spend the holiday on the road with his brother or at Bobby’s. He held the pen to the paper until the ink bled through and he finally wrote out Dean’s name.
Dean,
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you but its Christmas and all I can think about is how much life would be different if I would have just gone straight to you instead of running. I have to believe that it’s for the best. That it’s my turn to protect you in return for all the times you’ve protected me. I miss you so much. I miss the way you laugh, the way you smile at the craziest things, the way you hum along to whatever is playing. I miss everything. Fuck, I miss you, Dean.
Sam slipped the letter into an unaddressed envelope and shoved it deep into his duffle bag hoping he would forget about it. Sam began the methodical process he had started since he had first encountered the demons; a knife sheath strapped to his thigh, a gun at the small of his back before he finally slipped on his jacket and grabbed his keys.
Heading out into the cold night, Sam closed his eyes and breathed in the scents and feelings he had become so familiar with: hell, sulfur, pain, torture, death, despair. This was the reason why he was Oklahoma in the first place. He could feel the call of it pulling at his blood, persuading him to come out and play with the darkness.
Shaking his head clear Sam grinned when he heard the footsteps echoing around him. They were circling around him and slipping in closer. He didn’t have to do much to find them. They did all the work for him. It was something about his leaving Hell that made other demons search him out. They wanted to be the ones to put him back where he belonged.
He moved with slow steps out across the parking lot and towards the woods. His right hand going to unclasp the holster at his thigh as he moved, his fingers unconsciously curling around the hilt of the blade before his grip loosened and he grasped the cool metal of the gun at his back and he stopped.
A soft snap of a twig had Sam spinning towards the sounds and they were moving after him. The closer they got the hotter he felt. He tugged his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground and watched as his breath materialized against the freezing air. Sam’s movements were rapid as he pulled his gun from his back and fired off rounds to incapacitate. As he moved closer he slid the knife from his holster and straight into the broken vessel’s chest. He watched in fascination as the black eyes glazed over before the drained to their human counter parts.
The cackling laughter behind him had Sam freezing before a hand struck out against the side of his face sending him sprawling against the ground. “You can’t fight us forever, Sam.”
Sam met a pair of black eyes and a bloody grin, “Then I will fight until I die.”
“And you’ll end up right back in Hell.” Sam felt the kick against his chest and everything lit on fire. It was almost as if from that one blow something so feral woke up inside him. Sam was moving with such a wild intensity and pinning the demon below him, his hands grasping either side of the vessel’s face before he knew what was happening. He barely heard the words that were spilling from the demon’s lips as he fought of the urge to kill so savagely. “You don’t belong here. You aren’t even one of us. You’re such an abomination everyone wants you back in the Cage. Do you know what my prize is if I bring you back?”
From the mention of the Cage it was like something snapped inside of Sam. Something inside of him snapped along with the crack of the fragile neck Sam held beneath his hands. He felt bile rise in his throat from the mouthy grin the demon was still giving him. Everything human was dead but the demon was still alive.
Sam held the blade to the demon’s throat and whispered, “What’s your prize? Eternal damnation?” Sam didn’t wait for the snarky comeback as he slid the knife right across its throat and he watched the demon disappear.
Sam rolled off the empty vessel and he closed his eyes, praying that somehow he’d make it through this. A soft rustles of clothes prompted him to open his eyes. Castiel was standing over him and Sam felt a wet heat trailing along his cheeks and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t do this alone anymore.
“They followed you.” Castiel’s voice was even as he plucked Sam up off the ground. “You did what any hunter would have done.”
“I have to believe that.” Sam nodded. “It’s just hard to believe that when it’s just me here. It’s hard to believe that when I have no one to remind me that I’m still human.”
Dean,
I’m drowning here. All I can feel is how evil I’ve become and how much I’m drowning in what I’ve become. How much I’m losing what little I have left I have of my soul. There’s no higher power, no greater good that’s going to save me. The Sam you knew, he is gone.
Castiel
Leaving Sam on his own was harder than he expected. There was too much at stake to leave the younger Winchester alone but he couldn’t go back on his promise to the hunter. So he left Sam and went to watch over Dean despite everything that was telling him not to.
Castiel stood far enough away watching as Dean tumbled out the window of an apartment building and went clambering down the rusted fire escape as quickly and safely as he could manage with a werewolf on his heels.
Dean made it to the second story of the building and chanced a look over his shoulder. Castiel could see the lightening fast decision the hunter had made once he realized how close the werewolf was to him and how much danger he was in. Castiel watched as Dean jumped from the fire escape to the warped pavement and hissed as his ankle twisted beneath him trying to get as much space between the two of them as he could.
“Damn it,” Dean grit his teeth and scrambled to a run. Castiel was tempted to intervene to put a stop to this before Dean got injured or worse but the hunter surprised both he and the wolf. The angel let out a breath of relief when Dean spun around and stopped with a feral grin as he raised his gun chest height, “Eat it, Fifi.”
Dean huffed out a breath and he looked around to see if anyone saw him before he started to limp back to the Impala grumbling about fucking werewolves and how god damn hot it was in Texas.
Castiel waited until Dean pulled away from the alley before following him to the motel he was staying at. Dean haphazardly wrapped his ankle and didn’t bother icing it down like he should have, like Sam would have insisted he do. As soon as Dean was out Castiel slipped into the room unnoticed and brushed a finger along the outside of Dean’s ankle before disappearing out.
Dean
“Hey, Bobby!” Dean yelled as headed through the house, favoring one leg over the other. He dropped his duffle bag of clothes by the couch and carefully set his bag of weapons on the kitchen table to clean later on during the night.
Bobby made his way through the house with an irritated look on his face, “What?”
“Killed me a werewolf,” Dean grinned wide at the disgruntled look on Bobby’s face.
“And you just had to share the news?” Bobby smirked, already sitting down ready to hear the play-by-play even though he was complaining. “I was in the middle of an important phone call with what’s-his-face.”
“So important you can’t remember his name?” Dean grinned pulling two celebratory beers out of the fridge. He passed one over to Bobby before he sat down. “Yeah it was just like that one time me and Sam headed over to El Paso, I don’t know what it is with Texas and werewolves, but it was great.”
“Yeah?” Bobby’s eyebrows disappeared into his hat at the mention of Sam’s name. It hadn’t been quite a year since Sam went into the Cage. It was only January but anytime someone mentioned: Sam, Sammy, Samantha or any variation similar to Sam’s name, Dean went off and disappeared for days. Maybe this was a step in the right direction for the kid.
“I miss him.” Dean said softly after a few minutes.
“I know.” Bobby drained his beer and watched Dean peel at his beer bottle. The it was like he was hit with the most gut wrenching thought. “What did you do?”
“Who says I did anything? Besides bust up my ankle while I was running for my life.” Dean looked up with wide eyes and Bobby stood up his hands yanking Dean out of the chair.
“What did you do?” Bobby asked desperately and Dean backed away from Bobby with wide eyes. “Oh god, please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid, not again. I can’t go through that not again. You promised, Sam!” Bobby yelled.
Dean shook his head and ran a nervous hand through his hair, “Calm down! I’ll show you.”
“You didn’t get a tattoo again, did you?”
“Surprised you hadn’t noticed.” Dean gave a sad smile as he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal the ink over his wrist. He barely had shown Bobby the tattoo before he was covering it back up. “I also did something else but it wasn’t stupid. It was more like a vacation I guess you could say. I found something in the Impala that made me do it. I don’t think I’ll ever do it again but everything was just getting to be too much, Bobby.”
“You gonna tell me what you found or are you going to keep gushing like a girl?”
“Shut up,” Dean muttered over his shoulder as he headed out the door and towards the Impala. Bobby stood by the window watching Dean like hawk, making sure he didn’t make a run for it. Dean pulled a map and a packet of something out the glove box before making a hasty return. He tossed the packet on the table and unfolded the map on the table.
“Sam used to always make marks on the maps we’d keep in the Impala. I never really understood what they meant.” Dean bit into his lip and curled his fingers into the palms of his hands as he took a deep breath to calm his breathing down. “I never took the time to understand what all the crazy little marks Sam made meant, not until now.”
Bobby looked at the maps and immediately recognized each of the spots. They were places Sam wanted to stop in but never asked to. He never would have said anything while he was with Dean or John. They were too touristy, too gaudy or too far off route to even bother with. Bobby reached for the packet and stopped before he got there. He looked to Dean for permission and Dean nodded for Bobby to go ahead.
“I got it from the Riverwalk in San Antonio. Dad never would have taken us and Sam mentioned it a few times when we passed through Texas. The big girl would have loved it, Bobby.” Dean explained as Bobby opened it up and Bobby shook his head.
“You going to take this much of a off shoot on every hunt?” Bobby held up the protection amulet, admiring the handy work. “Looks and feels like the real thing.”
“It is and I stopped on the way back. S’not like it was that big of a deal.” Dean started and he stopped, “I just needed something for me. The whole time I was taking out that werewolf all I was thinking of was what Sam would have done or what he would have thought. I wanted to turn to say something to him and I couldn’t because he wasn’t there. Then that damn map was there, Bobby.”
“I’m not saying don’t do what you have to do to keep functioning, kid.” Bobby handed to amulet back over towards Dean. He stopped short at the sight of the ink on Dean’s wrist taking in the Latin and sighing from the implications, “But this is just like me and Karen. I don’t want to see you turn into me. You deserve better.”
“So did Sam.” Dean whispered.
~*~
Dean laid curled up on his bed, his eyes going to the inked lines and along the inside of his wrist. He did do something stupid after making it to the Riverwalk. He went into the first tattoo shop that looked clean enough and put down enough money and he marked himself as Sam’s. He was always Sam’s. Ab Initio, from the beginning.
He remembered what it felt like driving in the Impala with the fresh tattoo. The ache of it rubbing against the seats and his clothes were just another reminder that Sam always with him no matter what. That he wasn’t alone. With a sigh Dean moved across the room and into the closet to pull out Sam’s old hoodie. He dug it out of the duffle bag and he gave a hopeless smile as he felt the soft give of the fabric beneath his fingers. Giving in to impulse Dean tugged the sweater over his head and closed his eyes against the warmth before he slid his fingers into the front pocket.
Rolling his eyes Dean grumbled, “You still stuff everything to the gills with paper even when you’re not here, don’t you Sammy?”
Dean plucked the paper out and frowned when he saw that it was an envelope. He rocked back to his feet and clicked on the lamp and felt a wave of confusion tumble over him when he saw his name in Sam’s hand writing. Not Sam’s handwriting he associated from Sam’s college days but the messy Sam handwriting from a year ago.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed staring down at the envelope before he pressed the worn paper to his lips. “This better not be what I think it is, Sam. I’ll find you in Hell and kick your ass for a good-bye letter.”
He slid his finger under the seal and grimace at how easy it gave, at how long it had been in the sweater waiting for him to read what was contained inside. He pulled the paper out and took a deep breath before unfolding it.
Dean,
This isn’t easy. I mean how did you go about doing this when you got back? You found a payphone then Bobby, right? All I have are envelopes and paper. I miss you so much, Dean. Promise me that you won’t go out looking for me. Promise me that you’ll keep living. Promise me that you’ll keep living even if you read this and you hate me for not coming to you like I should have but I couldn’t risk it. I can’t risk it with what’s happening. You’re worth everything to me. I can’t bring you into my mess. If you have to talk to me, I left some directions. It’s up to you, whether you use them or not. You won’t be able to track me. I’ve always been smarter than you, jerk. Just know that right now I’m alive and you’re everything that keeps me fighting.
Just promise you won’t come looking for me.
Sammy
Dean read the letter over and let out a loud wail before he slammed a fist into the wall. He wasn’t sure how long he was howling, fighting against himself before there were a set of arms wrapping around him to restrain his movements. He heard Bobby’s voice whispering in his ear trying to calm him down before he finally handed the letter over to him so he would understand what was going on. Dean closed his eyes and all he could see was the date of that letter. October. The same god damn date that Cas showed up and checked in on Bobby.
Sam had been out of the Cage and walking around topside since October? Dean rested against Bobby’s chest, his breath hitching and he listened to Bobby’s heart quicken against his ear. Bobby wrapped a hand around Dean’s arm tight and Dean knew Bobby was thinking the same thing he was thinking.
“What do I do?” Dean whispered. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You write him back.” Bobby handed Dean the second piece of paper with instructions and Dean stared down at it, not believing that Sam was alive. “Write your idjit of a brother back and tell him I’m going to kill him for this.”
All of a sudden Dean started laughing. He was laughing so hard there were more tears from laughter streaming down his face than from finding out that Sam was actually alive. When Bobby pressed a hand to his forehead Dean started laughing even harder.
“You want to tell me what’s so funny here, Winchester?”
“He broke into my baby to do this!” Dean waved the letter around, “The little bitch. He broke into the Impala to plant a letter that he knew I’d eventually find and he stole my weapons. Oh god and I thought he just stood next to me itching to get his hands on Dad’s journal. The little bitch actually learned how to jimmy the Impala’s trunk lock without damaging it.”
“You’re insane.” Bobby’s knees popped as he stood up swatting Dean’s head, “Both of you. You need help.”
Dean leaned his head back against the mattress and pulled in a long breath, “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”
Part Three
Author: youaredriving aka Scarletsptember
Fandom(s), Characters: Supernatural, Sam/Dean
Total Word Count: 20.106
Rating: R
Warnings: Spoilers for 5x22 after that I take it an entirely different direction. Angst, violence, artistic liberties taken, incest
Summary: It's always been Sam and Dean from the beginning but Sam's time in Hell has changed him. It's made him into the one thing he's feared and he'll do whatever it takes to keep Dean safe. Even if it means staying away. Needing to stay sane he leaves something behind for Dean, just knowing it's there allows him to keep hold on the last threads of his humanity.
Author's Notes: I kind of worked my heart out with this. Did a lot of thinking a lot of re-writing and hoping that everything made sense. I got a ton of people (Okay three, who I owe the world to) to read over this and I feel like this one was a good one.
Dean
Dean sat drumming his fingers as he stared at Bobby’s trying to figure out if he should head on in or turn around and head back out towards the interstate. Chewing on his lip, Dean let out a long sigh thinking back to how many times he had actually called the man. A grand total of none, “Damn it, he’s going to kill me for just showing up.”
Dean flinched at the sound of a barrel of a shotgun tapping against his window. He looked out his window at Bobby and he hit his head on the steering wheel before finally opening the door and getting out of the Impala. “Hey there, Bobby.”
Bobby cocked a brow at Dean, “Hey there, Bobby? That’s all you have to say to me after how long? I didn’t even know if you were still breathing you idjit.” Bobby rested the shotgun against the Impala and promptly popped Dean over the back of the head. He ignored the hiss of pain from the younger man as he gathered him up in a tight hug. “Pick up a damn phone after the next apocalypse. I had to hear from damn feather brains that you were alive.”
“Cas is still around?” Dean pushed back away from Bobby, shocked painted across his face.
“Yeah, he ain’t stopped by to see you? I would have figured you were the first person on his reunion tour.” Bobby pulled at his hat already uncomfortable with the fact that Dean hadn’t gotten his visit from the angel.
“Obviously not,” Dean turned around in a circle, his hands tugging on his hair. “What the hell, Bobby? You get a visit from him but I don’t? My own angel doesn’t visit me?”
“I don’t know what to tell you kid. The angel stopped in late October and that’s the only time I’ve seen him. He just popped in and gave me this weird ass hug and said, ‘It pleases me to see you in good health, Bobby.’ And he disappeared, like it was an everyday occurrence.”
“He’s always been strange, Bobby.” Dean wiped a hand over his lips before heading towards the trunk of the Impala and grabbing his duffle bag along with Sam’s hoodie.
“Right, strange ain’t the word for it, kid. He had me making sure I was taking my pills daily. I was worried I was about to drop dead getting visited by an angel that was supposed to be back up in heaven. Yeah that’s a fun experience right there. Let me tell you.”
“I’d take that over where I’ve been.”
“Yeah?” Bobby grabbed his shotgun and walked side by side with Dean up to the house. “And where have you been exactly? It’s not like you actually let anyone know you were alive and kicking.”
“Lisa’s.” Dean looked down at his boots and sighed. “Look how well that turned out for me.”
“I got a room you can have if you want it.” Bobby tugged on the bill of his hat. “It ain’t much but it’s something if you aren’t going to be on the road.”
“Show me the way so I can throw my shit down and lead me to the nearest case. I gotta do something, Bobby.” Dean looked up and met dark eyes his hand curling tight around Sam’s sweater. “I don’t know how to do anything other than hunting. I gotta do something because this whole trying to be normal ain’t working out too well for me at the moment. It makes my bones hurt.”
“Well the room’s up the stairs and on your right. The one you and,” Bobby stopped himself. “It’s the old one you used to sleep in when your Daddy would drop you off during the summer. It’s cleared out and empty so rest up if you want but you’ll pull your weight when you’re not hunting. Got it?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Dean nodded and took the creaky steps one at a time. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at the closed door. The one he and Sam shared when Dad would drop them off during the summer and Bobby would let them hide out and create whatever mischief and mayhem they wanted for a few days. It was heaven being here those summers. Now, with his hand on the door handle, Dean couldn’t think of any worse hell than this room with out Sam in it.
Sam
“It’s December, Sam.” Castiel spoke from beside Sam at the small cubby hole of a postal box in Ellisville, Mississippi. Sam flipped through the pointless trash that always seemed to appear in the box. Outdated advertisements for local businesses that he never bothered staying in town long enough for to see what was so special about them that they needed advertising.
“I know what month it is, Cas. I can feel the drop in temperature and I’m pretty sure I looked at the date. My cell phone likes to chirp the date at me every time it turns on for some reason.” Sam grumbled before closing the box and locking it. “Why do you feel the need to remind me that it’s December?”
“You are leaving a trail that is becoming stronger every time you head here. They will eventually find you, Sam. They will figure out why you come here.”
Sam rolled his eyes and headed out the post office ignoring the friendly wave from the clerk behind the counter. Before he stepped out into the parking lot he scanned the area. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No heat, no call. There weren’t any demons here. It was just him and Cas here. “They haven’t found me yet, Cas. When they do find me I’ll kill them.”
“You are putting yourself at risk every time you do this.”
Sam spun around slamming a hand into Castiel’s chest. His eyes went wild, a ring of yellow encasing hazel eyes as his breathing became uncontrolled. “He is all I have left! He’s all that’s keeping me here.”
“He hasn’t found the letter yet.” Castiel’s voice grew soft after Sam’s outburst.
“How do you know? How could you possibly know?”
“I have been watching over Dean. He hunts and he keeps the sweater in the safest place he could think of.” Castiel closed his eyes and looked up towards the darkening sky. “It stays at Bobby’s. It stays at the only place he can sleep at night without you by his side.”
“What do I do?” Sam reached out to curl his fingers around Castiel’s trench coat but Castiel moved away from Sam’s touch. Sam flinched from the action and felt another thread of his humanity break away and fall into the acidity of the taint of demon blood littering his veins. “What do I do, Cas? Where am I supposed to go from here?”
“You make a decision, Sam.” Castiel spoke resolutely. “Do you do this by yourself or do you do this with your brother by your side?”
“What exactly am I doing?” Sam sighed as opened the truck but stopped at his reflection. His eyes. The inhumane yellow color that was bleeding in to his hazel green eyes, it was becoming unreal. Another testament to what the demon blood and what his time in hell was doing to him. He was losing his grip on the last traces of his humanity. Sam looked over at Castiel with tears filling his eyes as his voice cracked on his next words, “What exactly am I doing that’s making me such a monster?”
“You’re not a monster Sam. You have never been a monster. And what you are doing right now? You are doing the only thing you can do.” Castiel pressed a hand against Sam’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing against the warm skin of Sam’s neck. “You are surviving, so keep doing that for both your brother and for me.”
Sam swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and he nodded. “Promise me something, Cas.”
“Anything.”
“You’ll watch out for him.” Sam asked. “You’ll go and watch out for him because I can’t. Just don’t let him see you because he’ll know something is up if you’re back.”
“I can do that.” Castiel whispered and the warmth and lightness of Castiel’s touch disappeared from Sam’s skin just as quickly as it appeared. Sam was left alone next to his truck wondering where to go next, wondering he should do.
~*~
Sam found himself sitting in the middle of a motel room in Oklahoma when he penned out another letter to Dean. It was close to Christmas and it was going to be the first on in a long time he didn’t spend the holiday on the road with his brother or at Bobby’s. He held the pen to the paper until the ink bled through and he finally wrote out Dean’s name.
Dean,
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to you but its Christmas and all I can think about is how much life would be different if I would have just gone straight to you instead of running. I have to believe that it’s for the best. That it’s my turn to protect you in return for all the times you’ve protected me. I miss you so much. I miss the way you laugh, the way you smile at the craziest things, the way you hum along to whatever is playing. I miss everything. Fuck, I miss you, Dean.
Sam slipped the letter into an unaddressed envelope and shoved it deep into his duffle bag hoping he would forget about it. Sam began the methodical process he had started since he had first encountered the demons; a knife sheath strapped to his thigh, a gun at the small of his back before he finally slipped on his jacket and grabbed his keys.
Heading out into the cold night, Sam closed his eyes and breathed in the scents and feelings he had become so familiar with: hell, sulfur, pain, torture, death, despair. This was the reason why he was Oklahoma in the first place. He could feel the call of it pulling at his blood, persuading him to come out and play with the darkness.
Shaking his head clear Sam grinned when he heard the footsteps echoing around him. They were circling around him and slipping in closer. He didn’t have to do much to find them. They did all the work for him. It was something about his leaving Hell that made other demons search him out. They wanted to be the ones to put him back where he belonged.
He moved with slow steps out across the parking lot and towards the woods. His right hand going to unclasp the holster at his thigh as he moved, his fingers unconsciously curling around the hilt of the blade before his grip loosened and he grasped the cool metal of the gun at his back and he stopped.
A soft snap of a twig had Sam spinning towards the sounds and they were moving after him. The closer they got the hotter he felt. He tugged his jacket off, letting it fall to the ground and watched as his breath materialized against the freezing air. Sam’s movements were rapid as he pulled his gun from his back and fired off rounds to incapacitate. As he moved closer he slid the knife from his holster and straight into the broken vessel’s chest. He watched in fascination as the black eyes glazed over before the drained to their human counter parts.
The cackling laughter behind him had Sam freezing before a hand struck out against the side of his face sending him sprawling against the ground. “You can’t fight us forever, Sam.”
Sam met a pair of black eyes and a bloody grin, “Then I will fight until I die.”
“And you’ll end up right back in Hell.” Sam felt the kick against his chest and everything lit on fire. It was almost as if from that one blow something so feral woke up inside him. Sam was moving with such a wild intensity and pinning the demon below him, his hands grasping either side of the vessel’s face before he knew what was happening. He barely heard the words that were spilling from the demon’s lips as he fought of the urge to kill so savagely. “You don’t belong here. You aren’t even one of us. You’re such an abomination everyone wants you back in the Cage. Do you know what my prize is if I bring you back?”
From the mention of the Cage it was like something snapped inside of Sam. Something inside of him snapped along with the crack of the fragile neck Sam held beneath his hands. He felt bile rise in his throat from the mouthy grin the demon was still giving him. Everything human was dead but the demon was still alive.
Sam held the blade to the demon’s throat and whispered, “What’s your prize? Eternal damnation?” Sam didn’t wait for the snarky comeback as he slid the knife right across its throat and he watched the demon disappear.
Sam rolled off the empty vessel and he closed his eyes, praying that somehow he’d make it through this. A soft rustles of clothes prompted him to open his eyes. Castiel was standing over him and Sam felt a wet heat trailing along his cheeks and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t do this alone anymore.
“They followed you.” Castiel’s voice was even as he plucked Sam up off the ground. “You did what any hunter would have done.”
“I have to believe that.” Sam nodded. “It’s just hard to believe that when it’s just me here. It’s hard to believe that when I have no one to remind me that I’m still human.”
Dean,
I’m drowning here. All I can feel is how evil I’ve become and how much I’m drowning in what I’ve become. How much I’m losing what little I have left I have of my soul. There’s no higher power, no greater good that’s going to save me. The Sam you knew, he is gone.
Castiel
Leaving Sam on his own was harder than he expected. There was too much at stake to leave the younger Winchester alone but he couldn’t go back on his promise to the hunter. So he left Sam and went to watch over Dean despite everything that was telling him not to.
Castiel stood far enough away watching as Dean tumbled out the window of an apartment building and went clambering down the rusted fire escape as quickly and safely as he could manage with a werewolf on his heels.
Dean made it to the second story of the building and chanced a look over his shoulder. Castiel could see the lightening fast decision the hunter had made once he realized how close the werewolf was to him and how much danger he was in. Castiel watched as Dean jumped from the fire escape to the warped pavement and hissed as his ankle twisted beneath him trying to get as much space between the two of them as he could.
“Damn it,” Dean grit his teeth and scrambled to a run. Castiel was tempted to intervene to put a stop to this before Dean got injured or worse but the hunter surprised both he and the wolf. The angel let out a breath of relief when Dean spun around and stopped with a feral grin as he raised his gun chest height, “Eat it, Fifi.”
Dean huffed out a breath and he looked around to see if anyone saw him before he started to limp back to the Impala grumbling about fucking werewolves and how god damn hot it was in Texas.
Castiel waited until Dean pulled away from the alley before following him to the motel he was staying at. Dean haphazardly wrapped his ankle and didn’t bother icing it down like he should have, like Sam would have insisted he do. As soon as Dean was out Castiel slipped into the room unnoticed and brushed a finger along the outside of Dean’s ankle before disappearing out.
Dean
“Hey, Bobby!” Dean yelled as headed through the house, favoring one leg over the other. He dropped his duffle bag of clothes by the couch and carefully set his bag of weapons on the kitchen table to clean later on during the night.
Bobby made his way through the house with an irritated look on his face, “What?”
“Killed me a werewolf,” Dean grinned wide at the disgruntled look on Bobby’s face.
“And you just had to share the news?” Bobby smirked, already sitting down ready to hear the play-by-play even though he was complaining. “I was in the middle of an important phone call with what’s-his-face.”
“So important you can’t remember his name?” Dean grinned pulling two celebratory beers out of the fridge. He passed one over to Bobby before he sat down. “Yeah it was just like that one time me and Sam headed over to El Paso, I don’t know what it is with Texas and werewolves, but it was great.”
“Yeah?” Bobby’s eyebrows disappeared into his hat at the mention of Sam’s name. It hadn’t been quite a year since Sam went into the Cage. It was only January but anytime someone mentioned: Sam, Sammy, Samantha or any variation similar to Sam’s name, Dean went off and disappeared for days. Maybe this was a step in the right direction for the kid.
“I miss him.” Dean said softly after a few minutes.
“I know.” Bobby drained his beer and watched Dean peel at his beer bottle. The it was like he was hit with the most gut wrenching thought. “What did you do?”
“Who says I did anything? Besides bust up my ankle while I was running for my life.” Dean looked up with wide eyes and Bobby stood up his hands yanking Dean out of the chair.
“What did you do?” Bobby asked desperately and Dean backed away from Bobby with wide eyes. “Oh god, please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid, not again. I can’t go through that not again. You promised, Sam!” Bobby yelled.
Dean shook his head and ran a nervous hand through his hair, “Calm down! I’ll show you.”
“You didn’t get a tattoo again, did you?”
“Surprised you hadn’t noticed.” Dean gave a sad smile as he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal the ink over his wrist. He barely had shown Bobby the tattoo before he was covering it back up. “I also did something else but it wasn’t stupid. It was more like a vacation I guess you could say. I found something in the Impala that made me do it. I don’t think I’ll ever do it again but everything was just getting to be too much, Bobby.”
“You gonna tell me what you found or are you going to keep gushing like a girl?”
“Shut up,” Dean muttered over his shoulder as he headed out the door and towards the Impala. Bobby stood by the window watching Dean like hawk, making sure he didn’t make a run for it. Dean pulled a map and a packet of something out the glove box before making a hasty return. He tossed the packet on the table and unfolded the map on the table.
“Sam used to always make marks on the maps we’d keep in the Impala. I never really understood what they meant.” Dean bit into his lip and curled his fingers into the palms of his hands as he took a deep breath to calm his breathing down. “I never took the time to understand what all the crazy little marks Sam made meant, not until now.”
Bobby looked at the maps and immediately recognized each of the spots. They were places Sam wanted to stop in but never asked to. He never would have said anything while he was with Dean or John. They were too touristy, too gaudy or too far off route to even bother with. Bobby reached for the packet and stopped before he got there. He looked to Dean for permission and Dean nodded for Bobby to go ahead.
“I got it from the Riverwalk in San Antonio. Dad never would have taken us and Sam mentioned it a few times when we passed through Texas. The big girl would have loved it, Bobby.” Dean explained as Bobby opened it up and Bobby shook his head.
“You going to take this much of a off shoot on every hunt?” Bobby held up the protection amulet, admiring the handy work. “Looks and feels like the real thing.”
“It is and I stopped on the way back. S’not like it was that big of a deal.” Dean started and he stopped, “I just needed something for me. The whole time I was taking out that werewolf all I was thinking of was what Sam would have done or what he would have thought. I wanted to turn to say something to him and I couldn’t because he wasn’t there. Then that damn map was there, Bobby.”
“I’m not saying don’t do what you have to do to keep functioning, kid.” Bobby handed to amulet back over towards Dean. He stopped short at the sight of the ink on Dean’s wrist taking in the Latin and sighing from the implications, “But this is just like me and Karen. I don’t want to see you turn into me. You deserve better.”
“So did Sam.” Dean whispered.
~*~
Dean laid curled up on his bed, his eyes going to the inked lines and along the inside of his wrist. He did do something stupid after making it to the Riverwalk. He went into the first tattoo shop that looked clean enough and put down enough money and he marked himself as Sam’s. He was always Sam’s. Ab Initio, from the beginning.
He remembered what it felt like driving in the Impala with the fresh tattoo. The ache of it rubbing against the seats and his clothes were just another reminder that Sam always with him no matter what. That he wasn’t alone. With a sigh Dean moved across the room and into the closet to pull out Sam’s old hoodie. He dug it out of the duffle bag and he gave a hopeless smile as he felt the soft give of the fabric beneath his fingers. Giving in to impulse Dean tugged the sweater over his head and closed his eyes against the warmth before he slid his fingers into the front pocket.
Rolling his eyes Dean grumbled, “You still stuff everything to the gills with paper even when you’re not here, don’t you Sammy?”
Dean plucked the paper out and frowned when he saw that it was an envelope. He rocked back to his feet and clicked on the lamp and felt a wave of confusion tumble over him when he saw his name in Sam’s hand writing. Not Sam’s handwriting he associated from Sam’s college days but the messy Sam handwriting from a year ago.
Dean sat on the edge of the bed staring down at the envelope before he pressed the worn paper to his lips. “This better not be what I think it is, Sam. I’ll find you in Hell and kick your ass for a good-bye letter.”
He slid his finger under the seal and grimace at how easy it gave, at how long it had been in the sweater waiting for him to read what was contained inside. He pulled the paper out and took a deep breath before unfolding it.
Dean,
This isn’t easy. I mean how did you go about doing this when you got back? You found a payphone then Bobby, right? All I have are envelopes and paper. I miss you so much, Dean. Promise me that you won’t go out looking for me. Promise me that you’ll keep living. Promise me that you’ll keep living even if you read this and you hate me for not coming to you like I should have but I couldn’t risk it. I can’t risk it with what’s happening. You’re worth everything to me. I can’t bring you into my mess. If you have to talk to me, I left some directions. It’s up to you, whether you use them or not. You won’t be able to track me. I’ve always been smarter than you, jerk. Just know that right now I’m alive and you’re everything that keeps me fighting.
Just promise you won’t come looking for me.
Sammy
Dean read the letter over and let out a loud wail before he slammed a fist into the wall. He wasn’t sure how long he was howling, fighting against himself before there were a set of arms wrapping around him to restrain his movements. He heard Bobby’s voice whispering in his ear trying to calm him down before he finally handed the letter over to him so he would understand what was going on. Dean closed his eyes and all he could see was the date of that letter. October. The same god damn date that Cas showed up and checked in on Bobby.
Sam had been out of the Cage and walking around topside since October? Dean rested against Bobby’s chest, his breath hitching and he listened to Bobby’s heart quicken against his ear. Bobby wrapped a hand around Dean’s arm tight and Dean knew Bobby was thinking the same thing he was thinking.
“What do I do?” Dean whispered. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You write him back.” Bobby handed Dean the second piece of paper with instructions and Dean stared down at it, not believing that Sam was alive. “Write your idjit of a brother back and tell him I’m going to kill him for this.”
All of a sudden Dean started laughing. He was laughing so hard there were more tears from laughter streaming down his face than from finding out that Sam was actually alive. When Bobby pressed a hand to his forehead Dean started laughing even harder.
“You want to tell me what’s so funny here, Winchester?”
“He broke into my baby to do this!” Dean waved the letter around, “The little bitch. He broke into the Impala to plant a letter that he knew I’d eventually find and he stole my weapons. Oh god and I thought he just stood next to me itching to get his hands on Dad’s journal. The little bitch actually learned how to jimmy the Impala’s trunk lock without damaging it.”
“You’re insane.” Bobby’s knees popped as he stood up swatting Dean’s head, “Both of you. You need help.”
Dean leaned his head back against the mattress and pulled in a long breath, “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”
Part Three