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.
Sam
It was after Valentine’s Day before Sam made it back to Mississippi. Too many demons had figured out that there was a price on his head. Of course none of them had the decency to figure out if their prize really was a prize or if there even was one. The way Sam figured it, someone had to open and close Lucifer’s Cage and it only closed from the inside and he wasn’t going to be the one closing it this time.
Sam snorted as he pushed through the glass doors and actually nodded to the waving clerk behind the postal counter. Sam pulled the familiar key from his pocket and unlocked the box expecting to see flimsy ad paper again but he tilted his head at the padded package that had been stuffed into the cubby. He pulled it out and stared down at Dean’s hand writing. He blew out a shaky breath before he shut and locked the box. Sam stumbled out to his truck. He sat inside the cab just staring at the package before he cranked the engine over and set the package on the seat next to him.
He barely glanced at the package as he drove the four hours straight into Florida before he found a place he thought would be safe enough for him to stop at. He found a Bed and Breakfast and the ladies behind the counter marveled at how unique his eyes were. He swallowed down the revulsion from their comments and plastered on a fake smile as he snatched up the keys and made his way towards his room.
Sam set his bag at the foot of the bed and ran a hand through his hair as he settled down in the center of the bed. He held the padded envelope in his hands like it were a treasure he wasn’t quite sure what to do with.
Sam dug out a pocket knife from his duffle and slid it under the seal. He let the contents slide out across the bedspread and he couldn’t ignore the guilt that lanced through his chest at the sight of Dean’s wobbly handwriting. He knew the exact moment Dean wrote that letter. It was probably moments after Dean found the one Sam wrote.
Sam,
You’re lucky that you’re god knows where doing whatever you’re doing. I can’t believe you’re alive. I guess that accounts for my missing weapons? You bitch. I can’t believe you took my favorite gun. I really don’t know what to say right now but I do have something for you. I got it in San Antonio. When I saw it I immediately thought about you. So if I can’t watch your back maybe this will help. I figure your smart ass will know what it is.
Dean
Sam let his fingers slid along protection amulet. Of course he knew what it was. He was surprised Dean recognized it and picked it up wherever he was. A Saturn Seal. They weren’t the friendliest looking of amulets and if they were made correctly, which Sam almost one hundred percent positive this one was done right by the craftsmanship, they were extremely powerful.
Another note fell out of the package and onto the floor, Sam leaned over the bed to pick it up and he read it.
The man who made that said only one person could ever wear that amulet, Sam. You better put that damn thing on and never take it off. Got me? And you think I won’t find your ass. You leave a trail like a ghoul having a picnic on the Fourth of July.
Sam snorted only Dean would have the guts to compare him to a ghoul. Sam picked up the amulet and ran his fingers over the lines and smiled. Dean always had a way of looking out for him even when he wasn’t around.
Sam unclasped the necklace and set it around his neck and felt fire roaring through his veins from the intrusion. It was almost like he was being choked and his hands were scratching to get the necklace off. He tossed it across the room and stared at it gasping for air. “Had to get the real thing for once didn’t you, Dean?”
Sam slid to the floor and buried his face in his knees, trying to take deep breaths to calm the panic that was ebbing in. “I’m not a monster. I am not a monster. I am still Sam Winchester and I am still a hunter.” He stared at the bright silver against the navy carpeting and he crawled over to it. He let the chain of the necklace pool over his fingers and he felt the tears sting his eyes. He’d never be able to wear it. Sam curled into himself and let his nails bite into his palms. He took a few deep breaths before he sat up and rested against the wall. “Get yourself together, Sam. You can’t afford to freak out like this. There are still monsters out there trying to put you back in the Cage.”
Sam placed the necklace back in the package and buried it with the rest of his unsent letters. If he couldn’t wear it he could keep it with him. Sam looked around the room and grabbed a clean pair of sleep pants. A night of rest then he’d be back on the road. Time wasn’t a luxury for him any longer. In four hours he’d be back on the road trying to cover his trail once again.
Dean
Dean was sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table perusing a new addition to Bobby’s library about ghosts after Bobby nonchalantly mentioned an angry spirit that needed taking care of somewhere in the south when a letter plopped down in front of him. He looked up at Bobby who was waiting from some kind of reaction from him. Dean picked up the envelope and sighed as he looked it over. There wasn’t any kind of return address and the handwriting was scribbled out and warped as if it was done in a hurry. There wasn’t much of an indicator of who it was from except for where it was processed from in: Destin, Florida.
“Florida?”
“They sent it to my personal address. The only person it could be from is Sam.”
“Right.” Dean nodded and opened the envelope and pulled the paper out.
Dean,
Sometimes I wonder if I really do leave a trail like a ghoul having a picnic at Fourth of July? It’s the second time someone has accused me of doing that but we both know that isn’t true. I heard you took out a werewolf on your own. How’s the ankle? You should be more careful, you were never as good at wrapping up sprains as I was. How’s the Impala? Are you still treating her like a Queen? Why do I even bother asking? Of course you are. I miss her some days. Even though I enjoy my legs not being so cramped up, I miss her and I miss your lame ass music. I didn’t steal any weapons, I just borrowed. You taught me how to do that.
Sam
Dean shook his head slightly smirking at Sam’s last words before the rest of the letter crept up on him. He wasn’t sure what to think of Sam’s letter. It was almost as if Sam wasn’t sure what to write so he just went with what he thought what was safest. Dean was so angry at Sam though. If he missed them so much why didn’t he just come home, why didn’t he just show back up? Nothing was stopping Sam from picking up a phone and calling Bobby’s. Nothing was stopping Sam from making his way over here.
“We need to find him.” Dean set the letter down. “I don’t care what he says or what he thinks, Bobby. We need to find him.”
“How do we go about doing that?” Bobby sat down with a heavy sigh. “We already checked out the PO Box. It’s up in New York and we know those letters move from there. Some how they move from the address he gave you and they end up somewhere else. But we don’t know where.”
“We track these.” Dean waved the empty shell of an envelope at Bobby before he pointed to the postmark. “He probably writes them on the road if anything. It’s got to lead us somewhere.”
“That could take a long time, Dean.” Bobby warned.
“If it means finding Sam, I’m willing to wait.” Dean unconsciously let his fingers trail over the Latin on his wrist. “As long as it takes.”
Dean shuffled up the stairs and set Sam’s letter in an empty nightstand drawer where he kept the first one before he grabbed a clean sheet of paper and started another letter. There was so much he wanted to know about Sam. So much he needed to know that he hadn’t thought to ask but now that Sam had written back it was like he was hit by a freight train of things he had to know.
Sam,
What’s got you so scared that it would be better for you to stay away from me? It’s not how we are. It’s always been you and me, no matter what. It’s always worth the risk, Sam. Always. Is it because of Hell? No matter what happened to you down there, no matter what you did, you’re still Sam Winchester.
What are you doing? Where have you been? No one has said anything about you, not that they would if you’re supposed to be dead but Bobby has even put his ear to the ground for information on you and you’re like a ghost. I just wish you were here.
How did you even know about my ankle? Do I even want to know how you found out about that?
Dean
Dean set the letter in the envelope and addressed it off to Sam. He let his fingertips trace the curves of Sam’s name before he laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling with his feet hanging off the side of the bed trying his damnedest not to think about packing his bag to drive anywhere to find Sam. It was getting harder and harder. Taking a deep breath Dean gave a half laugh choked sob before he was on his feet and packing his bag and heading downstairs towards Bobby’s library. He vaguely remembered some kind of angry spirit somewhere around the Gulf coast that needed taking care of.
Sam
Sam set Dean’s latest letter along with the rest of the soft papers in a memory box he picked up in the middle of Oklahoma. He barely batted an eye at the postmark from Biloxi as he placed it on top of the rest of the letters and he closed the lid. He let his fingers trace over the top of the memory box. It was simple and a stained dark wood. As soon as he saw it, it was something Sam immediately associated with Dean. The clean lines and the way it felt beneath his fingers. Sam kept everything Dean wrote and gave him in that box, even the letters he couldn’t find it in himself to send to Dean. He kept it in the glove box of his truck, under lock and key.
Sometimes he wondered if that’s what his life was going to be, if this was all he was going to get to see of Dean for the rest of his life. If this was all he was worth since getting out of Hell; awkward letters that didn’t really amount to anything.
He was driving into Arkansas when he jerked the truck onto the shoulder of the road and he slid across the seats hoping like hell the black Impala that was passing him by on the opposite side of the road was just another Impala and it wasn’t Dean behind the wheel. Sam clutched a hand to his chest. He couldn’t seem to gather enough air into his lungs when a hand touched his shoulder and scared him further making it harder to breathe.
“He didn’t see you, Sam.”
“It was him,” Sam croaked and curled further into himself. “Oh God it was him, Cas.”
“You miss him.” Castiel’s grip tightened on Sam’s shoulder and Sam gave a jerky nod. “He misses you just as much as you miss him Sam.”
“I-“ Sam let out a long breath before he looked up into the bright blue eyes, “I want to go to him so much but I’m a monster now. I’m what he hunts.”
Castiel let go of Sam’s shoulder and sat staring out of the front windshield, letting the cab of the truck drift into an uncomfortable silence before he finally spoke. “I told you once that you were never meant to be taken from your path. You are putting as many obstacles in your way, just as Hell did.”
Sam sat up to look at the angel, to ask him what he meant but Castiel had already disappeared from the cab of the truck leaving Sam to wipe the corners of his eyes dry by himself. Sam shook his head clear and looked in the rearview mirror and was tempted to turn the truck around and head in the same direction the Impala was heading in but he thought better of it. He couldn’t do that not after the letters, not after what he had done to Dean.
Dean,
You should probably stop asking questions I can’t answer. It makes it hard for me to keep in contact with you when you do that.Anyways, I’m hunting, demons mostly. Actually I’m just hunting demons. Seems like it’s all I’m good at. That and driving. I go where it feels right. I don’t really search out cases. There’s not much of a point when demons have a knack for finding me.
Oh and what do you mean I’m supposed to be dead? Is that the official story of Sam Winchester? I’m dead? That’s just great. All the Winchesters have officially died at some point in time now. You do realize this right? Bobby isn’t going to find anything on me, I’m like a ghost these days.As for knowing about your ankle? I guess being ‘dead’ has its perks.
Love you,
Sam
Sam was standing outside a bed and breakfast in Louisiana wondering why the hell he was staying so close to Mississippi but it was getting late and his skin was starting to itch the way it always did when he started to get closer to demons who wanted to bring him back to hell.
He slipped onto the bed with a sigh, long fingers brushing across his scalp before his fingers toyed with the smooth keys on his cell phone. He knew Bobby’s number by heart, he could tap out the number without having to open his eyes and he might be able to hear Dean’s voice.
Instead he flipped the phone closed and reached next to the bed and plucked up a piece of standard stationary and started writing. It was better to do it this way until he figured everything out.
My eyes aren’t hazel anymore, they’re yellow. Do you remember how much we hated that color Dean? How much Dad hated that color? Well, now I see it every time I look in the mirror. Every time I see my reflection it’s a reminder as to how much of a monster I’ve become. I feel how much Hell has changed me. It’s not dreams, it’s not stress. It’s in my blood and it calls to other demons. Other things that are out there and that are like me.
I’m not human. I’m a monster. I’m everything you hunt. The second you lay eyes on me you’re going to hate what you see. You’re going to hate what I’ve become. Now do you understand why I can’t go to Bobby’s? Why I’m so afraid of seeing you again? I can’t lose you completely. If all I have are letters, then that’s what I’ll take.
Sam read over the jumble of words he wrote out the night before and snorted, “If that’s not fucked up I don’t know what is.”
He was tempted to tear up and toss the paper in the trash. He really didn’t want to keep that piece of morbidity with him. It would only serve as a reminder as what he had become but something had him grabbing the paper. Habit or instinct, Sam really wasn’t sure what had him pocketing it to bring with him. It would end up in the box just like the rest of them.
Sam rolled his shoulders and stretched the muscles in his legs out before shaking his hands out. That tingling feeling of his fingers going numb was back. He knew what that feeling was leading to. Taking a deep breath Sam grabbed his bag and headed out to the truck.
He had just barely settled his bag in the back seat when he felt a slice of heat so intense soar through his veins he was falling to his knees. Hands were pulling at his shirt and tugging him backwards not allowing him enough time to figure out what was going on as he slid along the pavement of the parking lot. His skin tearing and burning as his clothes moved against him.
He couldn’t reach his knife or his gun and he was stuck being dragged backwards as he twisted and turned, kicking and reaching out for something to grab hold of but he couldn’t find anything to help him. A heavy blow was knocked across his face and a bright plethora of colors burst across his eyes right before he was choking on blood spilling back down his throat.
It took one blow, one moment of severe pain for Sam to let go of all the control he was holding so desperately on to. He wasn’t a human fighting for his life against whatever was threatening him any longer. He was an animal desperate for survival.
His body twisted and jerked before finally it was like sparks were jumping along his body and he was free. Sam could hear the shocked gasps around him as he staggered to his feet and to a precarious balance. He wiped gritted hands on his jeans before plucking the knife from the sheath on his arm and moving towards the feral forms.
“That knife won’t do much to this many of us, Winchester.” Sam ignored the way the demon licked his teeth with a long stroke of the tongue and he kept his charcoal eyes wide open against battered skin as Sam moved in on the demon. “We found you and now it’s time to bring you home.”
“I will never go back,” Sam growled out.
“Yes, you will.” Sam’s eyes flickered over to the smaller brunette who spoke up but he kept his focus on the main threat. Sam could see the fight boiling to the surface in the demon. He could taste it in the air all from this one demon.
“You want me,” Sam met the soulless eyes head on with his amber yellow eyes, “Well, you’re going to have to take me.”
“It’ll be our pleasure.”
Sam was moving in a blur. There was a heat boiling just beneath his skin as several bodies rushed towards him and he knew that this wasn’t like the other times he fought against demons so he could remain free from Hell. There was something different about the way they were fighting this time.
Each blow that landed wasn’t meant to disable, it wasn’t meant to knock him unconscious so they could bring him back. This fight was meant to kill and he was losing. Sam let out a pained roar and everything stopped as if it were frozen in time.
He blinked the blood from his eyes and looked up and saw every demon staring down at him terrified at what he had just done. The black color started to slowly drain from their eyes. A black dust started to slip from their nostrils and down towards the ground. It started to fall towards Sam as if it were waiting for him to tell it what to do.
Sam couldn’t help the quirk of his lips when gave out a raspy, “Go to hell,” and the black dust seemed to raise up off the ground minutely before it drove towards the ground in a blanket of air. He let the satisfaction of knowing that he sent those bastards right to where they wanted to take him before he let the heaviness pull him under.
Castiel
He made it from Dean and back to Sam far too late to do anything about the demons but once he did make it to the younger Winchester he was frozen in place. He had never seen any kind of being display that kind of power and Sam was beaten bloody and he still held some kind of control.
Castiel could see the way Sam was starting to lose grip on the last strands of consciousness. He was across the parking lot and moving Sam back towards the room he had just left. Castiel looked around the room and tried his best to make Sam comfortable. He tugged the hunter’s coat and boots off before he cleaned the blood off Sam’s face.
“You need more than this world can give you while you are by yourself.” Castiel whispered. “You need your other half, Sam.”
Part Four
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.
Sam
It was after Valentine’s Day before Sam made it back to Mississippi. Too many demons had figured out that there was a price on his head. Of course none of them had the decency to figure out if their prize really was a prize or if there even was one. The way Sam figured it, someone had to open and close Lucifer’s Cage and it only closed from the inside and he wasn’t going to be the one closing it this time.
Sam snorted as he pushed through the glass doors and actually nodded to the waving clerk behind the postal counter. Sam pulled the familiar key from his pocket and unlocked the box expecting to see flimsy ad paper again but he tilted his head at the padded package that had been stuffed into the cubby. He pulled it out and stared down at Dean’s hand writing. He blew out a shaky breath before he shut and locked the box. Sam stumbled out to his truck. He sat inside the cab just staring at the package before he cranked the engine over and set the package on the seat next to him.
He barely glanced at the package as he drove the four hours straight into Florida before he found a place he thought would be safe enough for him to stop at. He found a Bed and Breakfast and the ladies behind the counter marveled at how unique his eyes were. He swallowed down the revulsion from their comments and plastered on a fake smile as he snatched up the keys and made his way towards his room.
Sam set his bag at the foot of the bed and ran a hand through his hair as he settled down in the center of the bed. He held the padded envelope in his hands like it were a treasure he wasn’t quite sure what to do with.
Sam dug out a pocket knife from his duffle and slid it under the seal. He let the contents slide out across the bedspread and he couldn’t ignore the guilt that lanced through his chest at the sight of Dean’s wobbly handwriting. He knew the exact moment Dean wrote that letter. It was probably moments after Dean found the one Sam wrote.
Sam,
You’re lucky that you’re god knows where doing whatever you’re doing. I can’t believe you’re alive. I guess that accounts for my missing weapons? You bitch. I can’t believe you took my favorite gun. I really don’t know what to say right now but I do have something for you. I got it in San Antonio. When I saw it I immediately thought about you. So if I can’t watch your back maybe this will help. I figure your smart ass will know what it is.
Dean
Sam let his fingers slid along protection amulet. Of course he knew what it was. He was surprised Dean recognized it and picked it up wherever he was. A Saturn Seal. They weren’t the friendliest looking of amulets and if they were made correctly, which Sam almost one hundred percent positive this one was done right by the craftsmanship, they were extremely powerful.
Another note fell out of the package and onto the floor, Sam leaned over the bed to pick it up and he read it.
The man who made that said only one person could ever wear that amulet, Sam. You better put that damn thing on and never take it off. Got me? And you think I won’t find your ass. You leave a trail like a ghoul having a picnic on the Fourth of July.
Sam snorted only Dean would have the guts to compare him to a ghoul. Sam picked up the amulet and ran his fingers over the lines and smiled. Dean always had a way of looking out for him even when he wasn’t around.
Sam unclasped the necklace and set it around his neck and felt fire roaring through his veins from the intrusion. It was almost like he was being choked and his hands were scratching to get the necklace off. He tossed it across the room and stared at it gasping for air. “Had to get the real thing for once didn’t you, Dean?”
Sam slid to the floor and buried his face in his knees, trying to take deep breaths to calm the panic that was ebbing in. “I’m not a monster. I am not a monster. I am still Sam Winchester and I am still a hunter.” He stared at the bright silver against the navy carpeting and he crawled over to it. He let the chain of the necklace pool over his fingers and he felt the tears sting his eyes. He’d never be able to wear it. Sam curled into himself and let his nails bite into his palms. He took a few deep breaths before he sat up and rested against the wall. “Get yourself together, Sam. You can’t afford to freak out like this. There are still monsters out there trying to put you back in the Cage.”
Sam placed the necklace back in the package and buried it with the rest of his unsent letters. If he couldn’t wear it he could keep it with him. Sam looked around the room and grabbed a clean pair of sleep pants. A night of rest then he’d be back on the road. Time wasn’t a luxury for him any longer. In four hours he’d be back on the road trying to cover his trail once again.
Dean
Dean was sitting at Bobby’s kitchen table perusing a new addition to Bobby’s library about ghosts after Bobby nonchalantly mentioned an angry spirit that needed taking care of somewhere in the south when a letter plopped down in front of him. He looked up at Bobby who was waiting from some kind of reaction from him. Dean picked up the envelope and sighed as he looked it over. There wasn’t any kind of return address and the handwriting was scribbled out and warped as if it was done in a hurry. There wasn’t much of an indicator of who it was from except for where it was processed from in: Destin, Florida.
“Florida?”
“They sent it to my personal address. The only person it could be from is Sam.”
“Right.” Dean nodded and opened the envelope and pulled the paper out.
Dean,
Sometimes I wonder if I really do leave a trail like a ghoul having a picnic at Fourth of July? It’s the second time someone has accused me of doing that but we both know that isn’t true. I heard you took out a werewolf on your own. How’s the ankle? You should be more careful, you were never as good at wrapping up sprains as I was. How’s the Impala? Are you still treating her like a Queen? Why do I even bother asking? Of course you are. I miss her some days. Even though I enjoy my legs not being so cramped up, I miss her and I miss your lame ass music. I didn’t steal any weapons, I just borrowed. You taught me how to do that.
Sam
Dean shook his head slightly smirking at Sam’s last words before the rest of the letter crept up on him. He wasn’t sure what to think of Sam’s letter. It was almost as if Sam wasn’t sure what to write so he just went with what he thought what was safest. Dean was so angry at Sam though. If he missed them so much why didn’t he just come home, why didn’t he just show back up? Nothing was stopping Sam from picking up a phone and calling Bobby’s. Nothing was stopping Sam from making his way over here.
“We need to find him.” Dean set the letter down. “I don’t care what he says or what he thinks, Bobby. We need to find him.”
“How do we go about doing that?” Bobby sat down with a heavy sigh. “We already checked out the PO Box. It’s up in New York and we know those letters move from there. Some how they move from the address he gave you and they end up somewhere else. But we don’t know where.”
“We track these.” Dean waved the empty shell of an envelope at Bobby before he pointed to the postmark. “He probably writes them on the road if anything. It’s got to lead us somewhere.”
“That could take a long time, Dean.” Bobby warned.
“If it means finding Sam, I’m willing to wait.” Dean unconsciously let his fingers trail over the Latin on his wrist. “As long as it takes.”
Dean shuffled up the stairs and set Sam’s letter in an empty nightstand drawer where he kept the first one before he grabbed a clean sheet of paper and started another letter. There was so much he wanted to know about Sam. So much he needed to know that he hadn’t thought to ask but now that Sam had written back it was like he was hit by a freight train of things he had to know.
Sam,
What’s got you so scared that it would be better for you to stay away from me? It’s not how we are. It’s always been you and me, no matter what. It’s always worth the risk, Sam. Always. Is it because of Hell? No matter what happened to you down there, no matter what you did, you’re still Sam Winchester.
What are you doing? Where have you been? No one has said anything about you, not that they would if you’re supposed to be dead but Bobby has even put his ear to the ground for information on you and you’re like a ghost. I just wish you were here.
How did you even know about my ankle? Do I even want to know how you found out about that?
Dean
Dean set the letter in the envelope and addressed it off to Sam. He let his fingertips trace the curves of Sam’s name before he laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling with his feet hanging off the side of the bed trying his damnedest not to think about packing his bag to drive anywhere to find Sam. It was getting harder and harder. Taking a deep breath Dean gave a half laugh choked sob before he was on his feet and packing his bag and heading downstairs towards Bobby’s library. He vaguely remembered some kind of angry spirit somewhere around the Gulf coast that needed taking care of.
Sam
Sam set Dean’s latest letter along with the rest of the soft papers in a memory box he picked up in the middle of Oklahoma. He barely batted an eye at the postmark from Biloxi as he placed it on top of the rest of the letters and he closed the lid. He let his fingers trace over the top of the memory box. It was simple and a stained dark wood. As soon as he saw it, it was something Sam immediately associated with Dean. The clean lines and the way it felt beneath his fingers. Sam kept everything Dean wrote and gave him in that box, even the letters he couldn’t find it in himself to send to Dean. He kept it in the glove box of his truck, under lock and key.
Sometimes he wondered if that’s what his life was going to be, if this was all he was going to get to see of Dean for the rest of his life. If this was all he was worth since getting out of Hell; awkward letters that didn’t really amount to anything.
He was driving into Arkansas when he jerked the truck onto the shoulder of the road and he slid across the seats hoping like hell the black Impala that was passing him by on the opposite side of the road was just another Impala and it wasn’t Dean behind the wheel. Sam clutched a hand to his chest. He couldn’t seem to gather enough air into his lungs when a hand touched his shoulder and scared him further making it harder to breathe.
“He didn’t see you, Sam.”
“It was him,” Sam croaked and curled further into himself. “Oh God it was him, Cas.”
“You miss him.” Castiel’s grip tightened on Sam’s shoulder and Sam gave a jerky nod. “He misses you just as much as you miss him Sam.”
“I-“ Sam let out a long breath before he looked up into the bright blue eyes, “I want to go to him so much but I’m a monster now. I’m what he hunts.”
Castiel let go of Sam’s shoulder and sat staring out of the front windshield, letting the cab of the truck drift into an uncomfortable silence before he finally spoke. “I told you once that you were never meant to be taken from your path. You are putting as many obstacles in your way, just as Hell did.”
Sam sat up to look at the angel, to ask him what he meant but Castiel had already disappeared from the cab of the truck leaving Sam to wipe the corners of his eyes dry by himself. Sam shook his head clear and looked in the rearview mirror and was tempted to turn the truck around and head in the same direction the Impala was heading in but he thought better of it. He couldn’t do that not after the letters, not after what he had done to Dean.
Dean,
You should probably stop asking questions I can’t answer. It makes it hard for me to keep in contact with you when you do that.Anyways, I’m hunting, demons mostly. Actually I’m just hunting demons. Seems like it’s all I’m good at. That and driving. I go where it feels right. I don’t really search out cases. There’s not much of a point when demons have a knack for finding me.
Oh and what do you mean I’m supposed to be dead? Is that the official story of Sam Winchester? I’m dead? That’s just great. All the Winchesters have officially died at some point in time now. You do realize this right? Bobby isn’t going to find anything on me, I’m like a ghost these days.As for knowing about your ankle? I guess being ‘dead’ has its perks.
Love you,
Sam
Sam was standing outside a bed and breakfast in Louisiana wondering why the hell he was staying so close to Mississippi but it was getting late and his skin was starting to itch the way it always did when he started to get closer to demons who wanted to bring him back to hell.
He slipped onto the bed with a sigh, long fingers brushing across his scalp before his fingers toyed with the smooth keys on his cell phone. He knew Bobby’s number by heart, he could tap out the number without having to open his eyes and he might be able to hear Dean’s voice.
Instead he flipped the phone closed and reached next to the bed and plucked up a piece of standard stationary and started writing. It was better to do it this way until he figured everything out.
My eyes aren’t hazel anymore, they’re yellow. Do you remember how much we hated that color Dean? How much Dad hated that color? Well, now I see it every time I look in the mirror. Every time I see my reflection it’s a reminder as to how much of a monster I’ve become. I feel how much Hell has changed me. It’s not dreams, it’s not stress. It’s in my blood and it calls to other demons. Other things that are out there and that are like me.
I’m not human. I’m a monster. I’m everything you hunt. The second you lay eyes on me you’re going to hate what you see. You’re going to hate what I’ve become. Now do you understand why I can’t go to Bobby’s? Why I’m so afraid of seeing you again? I can’t lose you completely. If all I have are letters, then that’s what I’ll take.
Sam read over the jumble of words he wrote out the night before and snorted, “If that’s not fucked up I don’t know what is.”
He was tempted to tear up and toss the paper in the trash. He really didn’t want to keep that piece of morbidity with him. It would only serve as a reminder as what he had become but something had him grabbing the paper. Habit or instinct, Sam really wasn’t sure what had him pocketing it to bring with him. It would end up in the box just like the rest of them.
Sam rolled his shoulders and stretched the muscles in his legs out before shaking his hands out. That tingling feeling of his fingers going numb was back. He knew what that feeling was leading to. Taking a deep breath Sam grabbed his bag and headed out to the truck.
He had just barely settled his bag in the back seat when he felt a slice of heat so intense soar through his veins he was falling to his knees. Hands were pulling at his shirt and tugging him backwards not allowing him enough time to figure out what was going on as he slid along the pavement of the parking lot. His skin tearing and burning as his clothes moved against him.
He couldn’t reach his knife or his gun and he was stuck being dragged backwards as he twisted and turned, kicking and reaching out for something to grab hold of but he couldn’t find anything to help him. A heavy blow was knocked across his face and a bright plethora of colors burst across his eyes right before he was choking on blood spilling back down his throat.
It took one blow, one moment of severe pain for Sam to let go of all the control he was holding so desperately on to. He wasn’t a human fighting for his life against whatever was threatening him any longer. He was an animal desperate for survival.
His body twisted and jerked before finally it was like sparks were jumping along his body and he was free. Sam could hear the shocked gasps around him as he staggered to his feet and to a precarious balance. He wiped gritted hands on his jeans before plucking the knife from the sheath on his arm and moving towards the feral forms.
“That knife won’t do much to this many of us, Winchester.” Sam ignored the way the demon licked his teeth with a long stroke of the tongue and he kept his charcoal eyes wide open against battered skin as Sam moved in on the demon. “We found you and now it’s time to bring you home.”
“I will never go back,” Sam growled out.
“Yes, you will.” Sam’s eyes flickered over to the smaller brunette who spoke up but he kept his focus on the main threat. Sam could see the fight boiling to the surface in the demon. He could taste it in the air all from this one demon.
“You want me,” Sam met the soulless eyes head on with his amber yellow eyes, “Well, you’re going to have to take me.”
“It’ll be our pleasure.”
Sam was moving in a blur. There was a heat boiling just beneath his skin as several bodies rushed towards him and he knew that this wasn’t like the other times he fought against demons so he could remain free from Hell. There was something different about the way they were fighting this time.
Each blow that landed wasn’t meant to disable, it wasn’t meant to knock him unconscious so they could bring him back. This fight was meant to kill and he was losing. Sam let out a pained roar and everything stopped as if it were frozen in time.
He blinked the blood from his eyes and looked up and saw every demon staring down at him terrified at what he had just done. The black color started to slowly drain from their eyes. A black dust started to slip from their nostrils and down towards the ground. It started to fall towards Sam as if it were waiting for him to tell it what to do.
Sam couldn’t help the quirk of his lips when gave out a raspy, “Go to hell,” and the black dust seemed to raise up off the ground minutely before it drove towards the ground in a blanket of air. He let the satisfaction of knowing that he sent those bastards right to where they wanted to take him before he let the heaviness pull him under.
Castiel
He made it from Dean and back to Sam far too late to do anything about the demons but once he did make it to the younger Winchester he was frozen in place. He had never seen any kind of being display that kind of power and Sam was beaten bloody and he still held some kind of control.
Castiel could see the way Sam was starting to lose grip on the last strands of consciousness. He was across the parking lot and moving Sam back towards the room he had just left. Castiel looked around the room and tried his best to make Sam comfortable. He tugged the hunter’s coat and boots off before he cleaned the blood off Sam’s face.
“You need more than this world can give you while you are by yourself.” Castiel whispered. “You need your other half, Sam.”
Part Four