Ouroboros - Part 5
Fic title:Ouroboros
Author name:Gedry
Artist name:Counteragent
Genre: Gen
Rating:PG
Word count: 32,895
Summary:After Sam gets his soul back his relationship with Dean is rockier than ever. Secrets have piled up and tension is running high between the brothers. Their inability to get along causes problems for Bobby so he orders them to get help or get gone. Working through their problems is more complicated than they thought, and their therapist isn’t who she seems.
Session 10
“How do you prefer to be addressed?” she asks as they settle into their chairs.
“I don’t understand the question,” he answers.
“What do you want me to call you?” she explains.
“Oh, Cas will be acceptable,” he responds. “Dean and Sam say I can trust you.”
“Tell me, what leads you to be interested in my services?” Dora asks.
“Dean and Sam have indicated that they believe I might have some anger management issues,” Cas answers as he sits stiffly in the chair across from Dora, his hands on his knees.
“Do you?” she asks.
“Do I what?” Cas questions.
“Have anger management issues,” Dora explains.
“I believe that anyone faced with Dean and Sam Winchester would struggle with such issues,” Cas responds flatly. He’s shocked as she laughs loudly.
“You might be right,” Dora agrees. “What about when you aren’t with them?”
Cas blinks as he considers her question. “I am finding my current life situation very frustrating. So perhaps the answer to your question is yes?”
“You sound like you aren’t sure.”
“I am not,” Cas replies. “Emotions are still very new to me, and many of my brethren do not share my experiences, so I don’t have much to compare these feeling to in order to explain them.”
“So you struggle to understand your own feelings as well as those of the people around you,” Dora comments.
“Yes,” Cas agrees. “I spend much of my time on Earth with the Winchesters, and I find their relationship…complicated.”
“I believe many people view them in the same light.”
“That is comforting,” Cas nods. “I am just beginning to understand that not all human relationships are so complicated.”
“So it’s safe to say that one of the issues you would like to discuss in therapy is the understanding of emotions and how they potentially impact behavior,” Dora says as she scribbles some notes.
“Yes,” Cas answers before he cocks his head to the side and adds, “You are not human.”
Dora meets his assessing gaze with one off her own. “Neither are you.”
“Correct,” Cas acknowledges with a nod. “I am an angel. And you are?”
“A counselor,” Dora answers with a grin. “That’s all you need to know.”
“I disagree,” Cas argues. “You’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I’m curious about you. Are you friend or foe?”
“I’m Switzerland.”
“I do not understand that reference,” Cas sighs as he settles back into the chair. “That happens a lot.”
“It means, I am a neutral party,” Dora explains. “Nothing more, and nothing less. That’s all you’re going to get out of me, angel. Let’s talk more about you.”
She watches him struggle. It’s clear that he’s dogged. But something finally gives, and Cas asks, “What would you like to know?”
“Tell me about your relationship with your family.”
The angel sighs. “My familial relationships are complicated. I come from a large family unit that has struggled with conflict for many thousands of years. My brothers continue to this day to be torn over important issues, and I am currently at the gates of full-blown war with one of my older siblings, who wants to undo everything about the apocalypse that I fought so hard to stop. Raphael cannot be allowed to gain full control of Heaven, but war is an ugly thing, and I find myself questioning the violence and losses we are suffering.”
“You are beginning to think that this fight is costing you more than you might gain?” Dora asks.
“I am concerned that, by the time the war is over, even were I to win it, there would be nothing left of Heaven or of my family,” Cas answers sadly.
“But you continue to fight,” Dora comments.
“I don’t know what other options I have,” Cas is silent for a long moment as he considers. “I was not made for this. I was created to be a soldier, a warrior of Heaven to serve the Father. So many things have happened to me, so many choices I have made without even fully understanding the possible consequences. I’m out of my depth and struggling.”
“Sounds lonely and scary.”
“It is,” Cas whispers. “I am.”
He sits silently for a long while thinking about it. Until this moment, he had never considered the personal impact of his family issues. His focus has always been on the global issues and possible consequences that the world might face were he to fail.
“I’m losing the war,” he admits quietly. “I’m losing, and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m not as vicious as my brethren. I’m not as willing to sacrifice innocent lives to meet my goals, and it makes me weak. These feelings, these emotional entanglements I have, this cloak of humanity I wear is costing me my ability to be effective in battle. What am I supposed to do about it?”
“What do you want to do?”
Cas blinks at her like he’s never considered the possibility. “I want to quit. I want to hide. I want to rip my grace away and fall. I want to spend the rest of my human life with my friends, and not be responsible for the safety of the world. I’m tired.”
“You sound very torn.” Dora offers quietly.
“I am,” Cas admits. “I’m not really an angel, anymore. I’m not fully committed to the cause, so to speak. I have these feelings tangled up in my grace, and I am unwilling to purge them. I like having feelings. I like this spark of humanity I have in myself. I want more of it. I don’t know what I am.”
“Tell me what you want to be.”
“Free,” Cas whispers. “I want to be free.”
*****
Dean looks up when Cas appears on the dock next to him. “So, how did it go?” he asks as the angel takes off his coat and slides down to sit on the end of the dock and look into the water.
“It was painful,” Cas admits. “I find her unpleasant.”
“Oh,” Dean shrugs. “Sounds like a good first session.”
“I’m supposed to feel this way?” Cas questions. “It’s a horrible feeling.”
“Yeah, it is,” Dean snorts as he casts back out into the water. “I hate it too, but I told Sam I think that’s how you know it’s working.”
“I don’t want to go back,” Cas says as he takes off his shoes. “She frightens me.”
“Man,” Dean chuckles. “She gave you the works.”
He opens the cooler next to him and offers Cas out a bottle of soda. The angel looks at it with a cocked head before accepting the bottle and twisting off the top. “No more beer?” Cas asks.
“I stopped drinking,” Dean admits even as he grips the pole a little tighter.
“Ah,” Cas nods. “Your liver will thank you.”
“I draw the line at my organs talking to me, Cas,” Dean states as he points at the angel. “Don’t get any weird ideas.”
They chuckle. It’s enjoyable to sit in silence with his friend, and Cas has come to depend on these times with Dean in the last few weeks. But there is an issue he needs to bring up that he suspects Dean will not like.
“I think we should bring Sam with us on these fishing trips,” Cas says suddenly as he dangles his feet into the water.
“Do what?” Dean gasps. “Why?”
“Because his feelings toward you are changing,” Cas answers calmly. “He is beginning to want to spend more time with you, and I believe he might be jealous of our relationship.”
“Dude,” Dean groans. “You make it sound so gay.”
“He’s your brother, Dean,” Cas snaps. “This growth in your relationship is a good thing. I don’t want to impede that.”
Dean chews his lip while he thinks it over.
“Look,” Dean sighs. “I’m going to sit here and fish. You want to work out why Sam turns into a fourteen-year-old girl every time he sees you now, you go talk to him about it. He’s one dream over to the left.”
Dean doesn’t say anything more to him, but Cas knows his friend well enough to understand the unspoken request when he hears it. He focuses his grace and hopes Sam will welcome his intrusion.
*****
“What are you doing here?” Sam asks as Cas appears in his dream.
Sam is sitting slumped against the Impala on the side of a moonlit road.
“I came to speak with you,” Cas offers as he steps closer. “If you will allow me.”
“Sure,” Sam shrugs as the angel comes over to drop down and sit beside him. “What did you want to talk about?”
“I like you, Sam,” Cas starts quietly. “I know I haven’t been the best about showing you, but I think very highly of you. I have been very concerned about you this past year.”
“Seriously?” Sam asks as he turns to stare at Cas with a disbelieving look on his face.
“Of course,” Cas answers. “Why would you think that I would not?”
“You’re an angel,” Sam answers.
“And?” Cas asks, confused.
“And I’m…me,” Sam says like it means something.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Cas responds.
“I mean I’m the guy with demon blood,” Sam snorts. “I’m all weird and tainted and wrong inside. You shouldn’t like me. You called me an abomination.”
“I’m sorry for that,” Cas replies. “I was not in a good place at the time.”
“It’s okay,” Sam waves him off. “I get it. None of us were in a good place back then.”
“I want to share something with you, Sam,” Cas offers. “My family, when they speak of me, they call me an abomination. They say I have been tainted by humanity, and I am no longer fully angelic.”
Sam stares at him intently for a long moment.
“It sounds like what everyone says about me.”
“Indeed,” Cas whispers. “We are not so different, Sam. My friendship with your brother is strong. Dean is the first friend I have ever made in my whole life, and I have lived a very long time. I am protective of him because of that. But he’s not my only friend. Through Dean, I have met others who I also think of as important to me, as family, per se. You’re at the top of that list. I want you to know, whatever you assume I think of you, it’s not the truth. You’re my friend, and I think highly of you.”
Sam sits still for a long time, looking at his feet. Cas is patient, hopeful.
“I’m jealous,” Sam admits. “Before you, Dean didn’t have anyone else but me in his life. I guess I kind of liked it that way. It’s not personal. I’m a mess.”
“Apparently, so am I,” Cas says softly. “Do you like to fish?”
“Hell no,” Sam snorts. “It’s boring.”
Cas smiles down at his shoes.
“If I tell you a secret, will you promise to not say anything to Dean?” Cas asks.
“Sure,” Sam shrugs. “I guess.”
“I hate fishing, too,” Cas blurts. “But your brother loves it, so I sit on the dock and we talk. Do you want to come?”
Sam laughs, a noise so joyful that Cas can’t help but smile in response. “You really are a good friend, Cas,” Sam chuckles. “Not everyone would do that.”
Cas shrugs. “Neither of you have much that brings you joy. Why would I want to take it away from you just because it’s not my tastes?”
He can feel Sam looking at him, even though Cas is carefully not looking his way. This conversation has been difficult, uncomfortable, and he’s still feeling raw and exposed from his earlier session. “Alright, Cas,” Sam agrees. “Let’s go fishing. I promise it will be just between you and me that we both hate it, and maybe we can get him to agree to do something else next time.”
Session 11
“Tell me about your self-concept.”
“Sure,” Dean nods. “As soon as you explain what that is.”
Dora laughs before clarifying, “Who do you think you are?”
“You know,” Dean says conversationally as he leans back in the chair trying to look like a cocky asshole. “You’re not the first woman to ask me that.”
“I bet I’m not,” Dora chuckles. Then adds more seriously, “Answer the question, Dean.”
That sense of companionship goes right out the window for him when he stops to think about it.
“You mean you want me to seriously tell you how I feel about myself?” He tries to stall by asking for clarification.
“Yes.”
Dean sighs. “I thought this was going to be an easy day.”
She doesn’t respond.
“Who am I?” Dean repeats to himself. “Who am I?”
He sits up. “I’m John Winchester’s oldest son. That’s how a lot of people view me. I mean, the hunters we run into on the road know us on our own terms, now, with all the trouble we’ve gotten into and out of. But at the heart of it, a lot of the old guys still call us John’s boys.”
“And that identifies you as?”
“A Winchester,” Dean puffs up. “A hunter. One of the good guys.”
“Something you’re proud of,” Dora comments.
“Yeah,” Dean grins to himself. “Who wouldn’t be? I mean, hunting is ugly and brutal and thankless, but it’s still fighting the good fight on your terms, calling your shots, being free.”
“Freedom is important to you.”
“Freedom’s everything,” Dean agrees. “Well, almost everything. Sometimes freedom doesn’t turn out the way you plan it to.”
“Meaning?”
“Sometimes being free pretty much equals pissing everyone off and ending up alone,” Dean shrugs. “So maybe it’s not everything. But it’s still important.”
“What else?”
“I’m Sam’s older brother,” Dean offers more hesitantly.
“And how do you view that role?” Dora asks.
“I basically raised him,” Dean comments. “We’ve had our ups and downs. Hell, mostly downs, if I’m really going to be honest about it. But being Sam’s brother is something I’m proud of. I’m proud of him. I’m proud to be related to him. Sam’s special, and it’s got nothing to do with his blood. I like the spark he has.”
“That’s the longest positive comment I’ve heard you say about your sibling,” Dora says.
Dean blushes. “Okay, so we’ve been using your stupid cards, and they sort-of work half the time.”
“I’ll take the back-handed compliment for what it’s worth,” she smiles.
“He’s sort of…becoming my friend,” Dean mutters as he looks at his boots. “It’s…nice.”
“Keep going.”
“With what?” Dean snorts. “There’s not much to me.”
“Tell me about Hell.”
“No,” Dean responds immediately with a shake of his head. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Why not?” Dora presses.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Dean squirms in his seat. “It’s over.”
“But it’s a part of you,” she explains. “Being there has impacted the way you think and feel. It’s important.”
“Please,” Dean turns to face her fully. It’s not something he does often, this unguarded and wild look in his eyes. “I’ll beg you if you want but I can’t do this.”
She watches him, and he watches her until he collapses back into his seat and wipes at the moisture on his face with his hands. “I don’t want to do this,” he whispers.
“I know,” she says so softly. It’s the only comfort she offers him.
“I thought I was ready,” Dean says after a long period of silence. “I thought I had my head in the game, and I could take it.” He shifts again, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as his back twists side to side without him being aware of it. “I was so wrong. It was - I can’t even describe it to you, it’s so bad. I guess that’s why they call it Hell. They twisted me and used me and broke me. They ripped me up and then, when it was so bad I would have given them anything they wanted, they would tell me they didn’t want anything and keep going.”
“I didn’t think it could get worse,” he murmurs before he bites his lip. “But it always did. They took me places I never thought anyone would make me go and destroyed me until I couldn’t take it anymore.”
His face contorts as he stifles a sob and looks at her with wide eyes.
“Go on,” she encourages. “It’s just us here. I promise I’m not even taking notes.”
His eyes flick to her hands, still and relaxed in her lap before he gasps out, “I told them No a thousand times. I swear I did. I told them No even when I wanted to say Yes more than anything. But it was too much. I never thought about the fact that it was never-ending until it was happening, and I couldn’t stop it. So I said Yes, and they let me up.”
“And you learned how to survive in Hell,” Dora says softly.
The dam breaks, and Dean leans forward until his elbows rest on his knees as he covers his face and sobs. He’s not sure how long he cries for. She doesn’t move to hand him a tissue or tell him it’s okay. She just lets him cry until he’s cried himself out, and finally looks up at her to find her looking more concerned about him than he thinks he ever has before.
“Do you need a break?” She asks.
“No,” Dean snorts. “I’m about as raw as I can go right now. Taking a break just lets me roll myself back up in bullshit.”
It hurts to say it, but the truth is what it is.
She nods before she continues.
“We’ve talked a lot in our sessions about identity and self-knowledge,” Dora explains. “When you describe yourself, it’s always in terms of how others see you. So I’m pushing you here for a reason, Dean. I want to know if you have any self-concept.”
“You want to know if I know who I am,” Dean responds.
“Exactly,” Dora nods.
“No clue,” Dean says with a shake of his head. “Famine said I was empty. Maybe that’s what he meant. Maybe it’s not that there’s nothing in me, maybe it’s just that I don’t know what that something inside me is.”
“Then the real question isn’t ‘who are you?’ but ‘who do you want to be’?”
*****
“Tell me five things you think of when you think about me,” Dean blurts over Chinese somewhere south of Montana, where they are tracking something so messed up they don’t even know what it is.
Sam looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Oh, no,” he huffs. “Is this what I’m going to be talking about tomorrow?”
“Hell if I know, Sammy,” Dean shrugs. “It might just be a ‘me’ thing.”
“You got homework?” Sam asks without answering the question.
“Yes, okay!” Dean huffs. “I got homework, and I’m doing it. There’s a first time for everything. Now will you please answer the question?”
“You should get the buzzer,” Sam comments as he shifts up in his chair and turns to face Dean more fully. “You’re not going to like this.”
“Nice,” Dean mumbles. “Thanks a bunch, Sam. Way to brighten a guy’s day.”
“I’m going to ignore you being bitchy because I know it only means you’re really uncomfortable,” Sam sighs as he pushes his food to the side. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Fuck no!” Dean snaps. “In fact, I am totally certain I do not want to do this, but that doesn’t really seem to matter now, does it?”
“I guess not,” Sam shrugs. “Okay. Five things I think about when I think about you, or five things I think describe you?”
“Um,” Dean checks the sheet of preprinted paper he pulls out of his back pocket. “It doesn’t really specify. Is there much of a difference?”
“Yes,” Sam chuckles. “If I think of what comes to my mind when I’m with you, it depends a lot on what’s going on. I might be irritated and think you’re being a big asshole, or you could be sleeping and humming Zeppelin while you dream, and I think it’s kind of cute.”
“I don’t do that,” Dean grumbles.
“You do, too. You’re asleep, Doofus, how would you know?” Sam snorts. “Ask Cas, if you don’t believe me.”
“Okay, look,” Dean sighs as he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “How about you tell me what you think of me.”
“In five words?” Sam sounds like he believes it can’t be done.
“Why is this so hard?” Dean erupts as he gets up out of his chair. “I mean, shit, am I that bad?”
“Dogged,” Sam blurts. “Loyal, emotional, solid, safe.”
Dean perfectly still for a moments before turning to look at his little brother while a blush crawls its way up Sam’s neck to his cheeks.
“Seriously?” Dean questions.
“Yeah,” Sam mumbles as he shoves half an egg roll into his mouth.
They don’t talk about it anymore. Sam goes to sleep, and Dean spends half the night awake smiling at the back of his sleeping brother’s head from across the room. He checks the list he’s been working on as he defines who he thinks he is and what he wants to change. Loyal and something like dogged were already on there, so he adds dependable and makes a note to ask Sam what he meant by emotional later.
Now he just has to figure out how stop being a bullheaded jackass. He’s not mentioning to Sam that the second part of the assignment was to ask his brother what, specifically, Sam doesn’t like about him.
Dean’s not ready for that just yet.
Session 12
“I came with a list,” Sam announces as soon as they start the session.
“Of?” Dora asks with a smile.
“Of traits that I think make me who I am,” Sam answers with a grin.
“Because of your brother?” she asks.
“Yeah,” Sam shrugs. “Dean made it sound like a big deal.”
“Maybe for him, it is,” Dora comments. “What makes you think I would address a similar issue with you?”
He pauses then, blinking as he thinks of a response.
“I don’t know,” Sam answers hesitantly. “I guess I just sort of assumed all of our issues were connected.”
“The fact that you made me a list of things you think describe you leads me to believe you have a fairly good grip on defining yourself.”
“I guess it would,” Sam nods. “Well, I’m at a loss, then. What am I here to talk about today?”
“You’re here to talk about why you dislike yourself so much.”
There’s another, longer pause before Sam slumps back in the seat and groans, “Oh, fuck.”
Dora smiles. “I thought you would say something like that.”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Sam mutters.
“If I had a dollar for every time a Winchester told me that, I would be retired by now,” Dora responds with an overly dramatic eye-roll that makes Sam’s lips twitch into a grin against his will. “Now, talk.”
“What do you want me to say?” Sam huffs. “I’m a giant fuck-up. What’s there to like?”
She looks at him, raising one eyebrow.
“Okay,” he relents. “So there’s some stuff to like. But it totally doesn’t outweigh the bullshit that comes along with it.”
“Describe the bullshit.”
“I’m a demon-blood addicted, sometimes superhuman-power-having, vessel for Lucifer,” Sam points out. “I think that counts as bullshit.”
“Given,” Dora agrees. “But all of that is circumstantial. You’re not responsible for those things. Try again.”
“You know what I did without a soul,” Sam says seriously.
“You slept with a bunch of hookers,” Dora answers. “But you paid them, and I bet half of them offered to come back on their night off.”
“That’s not the point!” Sam exclaims.
“Exactly,” Dora says. “You’re stalling. Get to the point, Sam.”
“I’ve done terrible things,” Sam hisses as he grabs at the chair. “I do horrible things. I make bad choices; I hurt everyone I care about. If you get too close to me, you end up dead, and if you’re dumb enough to come back, you die again. I use people, I manipulate them, I stomp all over everything in my way to get what I want, and what I want is usually the wrong thing. It’s like, everything I touch turns to ash in my hands half the time. I don’t like me. I look at myself in the mirror, and I see this tired, beat-down guy looking back, and I hate him. I used to be strong. I should be stronger than this.”
“When were you strong, Sam?”
“A lot of times,” Sam hedges. “Just not now.”
“Give me specifics.”
“Why?” he asks.
“Why not?”
He stares at the window. It’s raining today.
“When I was with Ruby, I felt strong,” Sam whispers. “When I had those powers, when I killed Famine.”
“And?” Dora presses.
“When Lucifer had me,” Sam grinds out through his teeth. “When I was Lucifer, I felt powerful.”
“But you weren’t.”
“I wasn’t what?” he asks as he turns to face her.
“Lucifer,” she points out. “You weren’t Lucifer. He possessed your body while you were in the backseat. He moved your limbs and controlled your actions, but you weren’t him and he wasn’t you.”
Sam stares at the floor at his feet for a long moment.
“It doesn’t feel that way, looking back on it,” Sam sighs. “He wore my face.”
“I could wear your face and go rob a liquor store, Sam,” Dora huffs. “But that doesn’t mean you did it.”
“I know,” Sam huffs. “I’ve heard it before. Hell, I’ve lived it before, back when Meg possessed me. But knowing it doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“What would make you feel better?”
“I don’t know,” Sam picks at his pants.
“Be honest,” Dora says as she leans forward. “What would make you feel better?”
“I don’t know!” Sam snaps. “What do you want me to say? I mean, either everything is all my fault because I’m selfish and power hungry, or it’s the other way, and that’s even worse.”
“Tell me about the other way,” Dora orders.
“If it’s not my fault, then everything that’s happened to me my whole fucking life is a giant manipulation. If Ruby didn’t make me stronger by being with her, then she tricked me; if having those powers and killing Famine was just a training ground to get ready me for Lucifer, then they tricked me. If he had totally control over me when he hurt those people, then it wasn’t my fault, and if it wasn’t my fault, then I’m weak! I’m a liability.”
“And being weak is bad?”
“YES!” Sam barks out. “Being weak gets you killed, gets everyone killed. I can’t be weak.”
“Who taught you that, Sam?” She presses.
“My dad!”
“Was he right?” She asks as he squirms.
Sam stills in his chair where he’s biting his lip and swiping at his hair. “What?”
“You’re a grown man,” she explains. “An equal now to your father, not a kid. Looking back on what he taught you, do you think he was right?”
Sam blinks. “No.”
“Okay then,” Dora says with authority. “So if there’s a chance he was wrong about that, then what does it mean for you?”
Sam exhales a long breath.
“I need to…change…the way I think about strength,” Sam says slowly like he’s been hit in the head with a brick.
“Guess what you have?” Dora says with a smile.
*****
“Homework?” Bobby questions when he sees Sam slouched over a few crumpled sheets of paper in his kitchen.
“Kill me,” Sam begs as Bobby goes to the fridge for a beer and hesitates before pulling out the pitcher of lemonade Dean and Sam have started making when they stay over.
“You can have a beer, Bobby,” Sam snorts. “Dean’s not going to freak out, and I’m not going to jump you for it.”
“I want to be sober for this one, I think,” Bobby sighs. “Go on, Son. Hit me with it.”
“Why did you fight with Dad so much?” Sam asks.
“He pushed too hard,” Bobby sighs. “John was a good man, and I respected him a lot. We had a lot in common, with both of us losing our wives the way we did. But I was alone when that happened, and your dad had you guys. I guess you could say we had conflict about how you should have been raised.”
“You didn’t like how he raised us?” Sam asks. He’s a little shocked. It’s not that Bobby feels that way. Sam’s pretty sure most people would have an issue with a guy who hauls his little kids around the country hunting monsters. It’s more that Bobby’s being so honest with him about it.
“I always thought John should have settled down with you two and given you as much of a childhood as he could muster up,” Bobby shrugs. “He was too hard on you boys. Hell, I’m too hard on you boys now. You work your asses off for no recognition or appreciation, you put your lives at risk almost every moment of every day, and you do good work, Sam. I’m proud of you boys. I should tell you that more often.”
Sam looks at his papers again, pushing them around with his fingertips as he breathes in and out, and tries to work up the nerve to ask what he needs to ask.
“What is it?” Bobby presses.
“Are you disappointed in me?” Sam asks hesitantly.
He holds his breath while Bobby stays silent for a long moment before leaning forward and wrapping his hand around Sam’s shoulder. “Sam,” Bobby whispers. “You fought off the devil and saved the world. You gave everything you had to save us all. How could I possibly be disappointed in you?”
“It was my fault it happened in the first place,” Sam chokes out to the tabletop under his thumb.
“And you risked it all to put it right again,” Bobby replies. “We all get drug down paths we don’t want to go down, Sam. The only difference with yours is that the way back out for you is always so damned ugly. But that doesn’t mean it’s you that makes it that way.”
Sam closes his eyes.
“I’m supposed to ask Dean,” Sam sobs as he leans toward his father-figure and lets Bobby squeeze his arm comfortingly. “I can’t. What if he says yes?”
“What if he says no?” Bobby comments in return before rumpling Sam’s hair and escaping to do research.
Part 6