Find In Me Room to Breathe (1/1)
Title: Find In Me Room To Breathe (1/1)
Author: irishka1205
Character: Sam, Dean
Spoilers: through season 4, including 4.22
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody or anything. They all belong to the evil genius that is Eric Kripke. The title is taken from lyrics of Rapture by Hurt.
Rating: PG13
Summary: 4 days after Lucifer rises, Sam is trying to deal.
Author’s Note: I have a feeling Sam will be crashing post 4.22. This is my attempt at depicting that. So, it's angsty. Big thank you to lostandalone22 for being my beta.
The heavy iron door screeched and whined as it opened, the sound echoing off the walls of the round room. He knew who it was without looking up - knew him by the sound of footsteps, the way he stopped as he entered the door, by the heavy sigh that filled the room.
“I brought you a sandwich,” Dean said, stepping inside.
Sam leaned back, letting his head roll and hit the hard surface of the iron walls that made up Bobby’s panic room and looked up at the fan above him.
He went willingly this time. Nobody shoving him, nobody locking him inside against his will. He told them to do it. He wished they’d just put a bullet in his head, but neither hunter would agree to that, Sam knew. This was second best option available. The only option left.
“Lock the door.” It took Sam a moment to realize that the voice he just heard was his own. The door just like the fan and the devil trap above him provided security Sam craved so much. He told himself it was to protect others from him. To protect Dean and Bobby and the rest of the world he had damned. But the truth was, it was more for him, for him to feel like he was in control of something, even if it was his own imprisonment.
When he escaped the panic room the first time, he swore to himself he would never return there. He hated it. But after everything that had happened since, after Lucifer broke free and Sam finally learned the truth about himself, after Dean managed to drag him out of the convent and somehow safely get them to Bobby’s, Sam went straight down stairs and told them to lock him inside. He wasn’t scared of what was to come next - the pain and torture of the withdrawals. He welcomed it. After all, he deserved nothing else but pain and suffering. But it never came.
He waited and hoped it would, because then he wouldn’t have to think about what he had just done. But there was nothing but a muted, monotone lullaby of the fan above his head filling the deafening silence around him. He wanted to pray, but quickly realized that if God even was there, Sam was the last person in the world he’d listen to.
Dean paused for a few seconds, then crossed the distance between then, leaving the door ajar. Kneeling down, Dean placed the plate and a bottle of water in front of Sam. “You need to eat. Sam.”
Sam knew he needed to look up, to somehow acknowledge his brother, to thank him for still trying to take care of him. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t look into his brother’s eyes, afraid to see hate or fear - probably both - on Dean‘s face. Or worse - pity. Because he didn’t deserve it, not after everything that he had done.
Sam wondered what was happening out there, in the ‘real’ world. The world outside of the panic room, the world where real people, innocent people with no demon blood and a monster hidden inside their very soul lived. He could almost see their faces - mothers, fathers, children. And every time he closed his eyes, they screamed in agony, burning as Hell rose, as Lucifer walked the Earth. And it was all his fault.
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was more forceful now as he grasped Sam’s shoulder. “Sammy, come on. It’s been four days already. With no symptoms. No…nothing. You have to stop this. You hear me? Sam!” The worry in his brother’s voice cut through Sam like a knife and he closed his eyes. He regretted that right away as the memories, the images of the past week, month, even the last year played out in front of him like a sick, horrific movie.
He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. “It’s not coming out.” He wasn’t sure whether he actually said it out loud. But the thoughts were there. The thoughts were in him the entire time. Four days? Is that how long Dean said he’d been in here? It had been four days since he let Lucifer free?
“The demon blood?”
He did say it out loud after all.
Sam pulled at the bracelet of his watch, twisting it around his wrist as the metal dug into his skin, leaving small scratches on his skin. “It wasn’t the blood,” he whispered.
It wasn’t the blood. It was you and your choices.
You had it in you the whole time.
Ruby’s words knocked the breath right out of him just like they did the first time he heard them. And every single time he remembered them since.
“It was never the blood. It was me.” His eyes burned and his throat tightened so much, it was nearly impossible to breathe. “It was always me.”
“Is that what that bitch told you?” Dean let go of Sam’s shoulder and he stood up. “Haven’t you learned yet that you can’t believe a damn word she ever told you? She played with your head to get exactly what she wanted.”
“I know,” Sam admitted, finally raising his eyes to meet those of his brother. He searched Dean’s face for any sign of hate or fear or anger or pity. But he found none. He only saw worry and concern. And that was even harder to take.
“Then why are you still…”
“Because she was right. Yeah, she lied and manipulated me, but she didn’t make me do anything.” Looking back on everything that had happened, ever since Dean died and went to hell, maybe even before that, he could see it so clearly now. “She didn’t force me into anything. I made those choices. Me.”
“Sam…”
“So, you were right.” His voice cracked and Sam looked away. Even though he knew it was the truth, even though he knew that Dean was absolutely right all this time, knowing what his brother thought of him hurt more than any other torture Sam could imagine. “You were right all along.”
“Dammit!”
Sam’s whole body shook in surprise at Dean’s sudden outburst.
He held his breath as he watched Dean pace the room.
The older Winchester finally stopped in the middle of the room and turned back to look at Sam. “Don’t you see?” He shouted. “They played us, Sam. All of them. Demons, angels, they’re all the same. They don’t care about people. What happens to any of us. They want us all dead, gone so they can party it up. Heaven on Earth. Hell on Earth. It all ends the same. No people allowed.” Dean took a step toward Sam. “They played us, Sam, both of us. Don’t you see that?” Dean dropped to his knees next to Sam, his hands on Sam’s shoulders, pushing him back, making him sit up straighter, forcing him to look Dean straight in the eye. “This isn’t your fault, Sammy. It’s not your fault. You were just trying to do the right thing.”
“Lucifer is free because of me.”
“No,” Dean shook his head as he clutched the material of Sam’s shirt in both of his hands. “No. Lucifer is free because they wanted it that way. Well, I’m not gonna let them win. No. We can stop it.”
Sam let out a chuckle in spite of himself because that was the craziest idea Dean had ever had. “Stop Lucifer,” he asked incredulously, part of him trying to figure out if maybe he was having hallucinations after all. Because this sounded just crazy enough to be a hallucination.
“Why not?” Dean asked, as if he was asking why he couldn’t have another slice of pie.
“Uh…he’s Lucifer?” There was only one way to stop Lucifer and that was to stop him from rising in the first place. Now that he was free, it was only a matter of time before the world as they knew it came to a bloody, fiery end. Sam accepted it. Apparently Dean didn’t.
“It’s possible. I know it’s possible. But I can’t do it alone.”
Sam studied his brother’s face. He saw it in his eyes, something that Dean wasn’t telling him. Something like a knowledge, like the truth - he could kill Lucifer, he will kill Lucifer. And realization washed over Sam like a wave.
“Yes, you can,” Sam said quietly. In that moment, he absolutely believed it.
His chest felt tight as the memories of the same words being spoken years earlier flooded his entire being. He meant those words then. And he meant them now. Somehow, some way he knew that Dean would be able to kill Lucifer.
Dean’s hands dropped to his sides as he stared back at Sam and Sam knew his brother was remembering the exact same conversation. Sam could tell the other man was fighting for control of his emotions. “I don’t want to,” Dean finally said, his eyes glistening.
And just like then, Sam knew Dean meant those words as well.
And just like then, Sam gave in.
Author: irishka1205
Character: Sam, Dean
Spoilers: through season 4, including 4.22
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody or anything. They all belong to the evil genius that is Eric Kripke. The title is taken from lyrics of Rapture by Hurt.
Rating: PG13
Summary: 4 days after Lucifer rises, Sam is trying to deal.
Author’s Note: I have a feeling Sam will be crashing post 4.22. This is my attempt at depicting that. So, it's angsty. Big thank you to lostandalone22 for being my beta.
The heavy iron door screeched and whined as it opened, the sound echoing off the walls of the round room. He knew who it was without looking up - knew him by the sound of footsteps, the way he stopped as he entered the door, by the heavy sigh that filled the room.
“I brought you a sandwich,” Dean said, stepping inside.
Sam leaned back, letting his head roll and hit the hard surface of the iron walls that made up Bobby’s panic room and looked up at the fan above him.
He went willingly this time. Nobody shoving him, nobody locking him inside against his will. He told them to do it. He wished they’d just put a bullet in his head, but neither hunter would agree to that, Sam knew. This was second best option available. The only option left.
“Lock the door.” It took Sam a moment to realize that the voice he just heard was his own. The door just like the fan and the devil trap above him provided security Sam craved so much. He told himself it was to protect others from him. To protect Dean and Bobby and the rest of the world he had damned. But the truth was, it was more for him, for him to feel like he was in control of something, even if it was his own imprisonment.
When he escaped the panic room the first time, he swore to himself he would never return there. He hated it. But after everything that had happened since, after Lucifer broke free and Sam finally learned the truth about himself, after Dean managed to drag him out of the convent and somehow safely get them to Bobby’s, Sam went straight down stairs and told them to lock him inside. He wasn’t scared of what was to come next - the pain and torture of the withdrawals. He welcomed it. After all, he deserved nothing else but pain and suffering. But it never came.
He waited and hoped it would, because then he wouldn’t have to think about what he had just done. But there was nothing but a muted, monotone lullaby of the fan above his head filling the deafening silence around him. He wanted to pray, but quickly realized that if God even was there, Sam was the last person in the world he’d listen to.
Dean paused for a few seconds, then crossed the distance between then, leaving the door ajar. Kneeling down, Dean placed the plate and a bottle of water in front of Sam. “You need to eat. Sam.”
Sam knew he needed to look up, to somehow acknowledge his brother, to thank him for still trying to take care of him. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t look into his brother’s eyes, afraid to see hate or fear - probably both - on Dean‘s face. Or worse - pity. Because he didn’t deserve it, not after everything that he had done.
Sam wondered what was happening out there, in the ‘real’ world. The world outside of the panic room, the world where real people, innocent people with no demon blood and a monster hidden inside their very soul lived. He could almost see their faces - mothers, fathers, children. And every time he closed his eyes, they screamed in agony, burning as Hell rose, as Lucifer walked the Earth. And it was all his fault.
“Sam.” Dean’s voice was more forceful now as he grasped Sam’s shoulder. “Sammy, come on. It’s been four days already. With no symptoms. No…nothing. You have to stop this. You hear me? Sam!” The worry in his brother’s voice cut through Sam like a knife and he closed his eyes. He regretted that right away as the memories, the images of the past week, month, even the last year played out in front of him like a sick, horrific movie.
He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands. “It’s not coming out.” He wasn’t sure whether he actually said it out loud. But the thoughts were there. The thoughts were in him the entire time. Four days? Is that how long Dean said he’d been in here? It had been four days since he let Lucifer free?
“The demon blood?”
He did say it out loud after all.
Sam pulled at the bracelet of his watch, twisting it around his wrist as the metal dug into his skin, leaving small scratches on his skin. “It wasn’t the blood,” he whispered.
It wasn’t the blood. It was you and your choices.
You had it in you the whole time.
Ruby’s words knocked the breath right out of him just like they did the first time he heard them. And every single time he remembered them since.
“It was never the blood. It was me.” His eyes burned and his throat tightened so much, it was nearly impossible to breathe. “It was always me.”
“Is that what that bitch told you?” Dean let go of Sam’s shoulder and he stood up. “Haven’t you learned yet that you can’t believe a damn word she ever told you? She played with your head to get exactly what she wanted.”
“I know,” Sam admitted, finally raising his eyes to meet those of his brother. He searched Dean’s face for any sign of hate or fear or anger or pity. But he found none. He only saw worry and concern. And that was even harder to take.
“Then why are you still…”
“Because she was right. Yeah, she lied and manipulated me, but she didn’t make me do anything.” Looking back on everything that had happened, ever since Dean died and went to hell, maybe even before that, he could see it so clearly now. “She didn’t force me into anything. I made those choices. Me.”
“Sam…”
“So, you were right.” His voice cracked and Sam looked away. Even though he knew it was the truth, even though he knew that Dean was absolutely right all this time, knowing what his brother thought of him hurt more than any other torture Sam could imagine. “You were right all along.”
“Dammit!”
Sam’s whole body shook in surprise at Dean’s sudden outburst.
He held his breath as he watched Dean pace the room.
The older Winchester finally stopped in the middle of the room and turned back to look at Sam. “Don’t you see?” He shouted. “They played us, Sam. All of them. Demons, angels, they’re all the same. They don’t care about people. What happens to any of us. They want us all dead, gone so they can party it up. Heaven on Earth. Hell on Earth. It all ends the same. No people allowed.” Dean took a step toward Sam. “They played us, Sam, both of us. Don’t you see that?” Dean dropped to his knees next to Sam, his hands on Sam’s shoulders, pushing him back, making him sit up straighter, forcing him to look Dean straight in the eye. “This isn’t your fault, Sammy. It’s not your fault. You were just trying to do the right thing.”
“Lucifer is free because of me.”
“No,” Dean shook his head as he clutched the material of Sam’s shirt in both of his hands. “No. Lucifer is free because they wanted it that way. Well, I’m not gonna let them win. No. We can stop it.”
Sam let out a chuckle in spite of himself because that was the craziest idea Dean had ever had. “Stop Lucifer,” he asked incredulously, part of him trying to figure out if maybe he was having hallucinations after all. Because this sounded just crazy enough to be a hallucination.
“Why not?” Dean asked, as if he was asking why he couldn’t have another slice of pie.
“Uh…he’s Lucifer?” There was only one way to stop Lucifer and that was to stop him from rising in the first place. Now that he was free, it was only a matter of time before the world as they knew it came to a bloody, fiery end. Sam accepted it. Apparently Dean didn’t.
“It’s possible. I know it’s possible. But I can’t do it alone.”
Sam studied his brother’s face. He saw it in his eyes, something that Dean wasn’t telling him. Something like a knowledge, like the truth - he could kill Lucifer, he will kill Lucifer. And realization washed over Sam like a wave.
“Yes, you can,” Sam said quietly. In that moment, he absolutely believed it.
His chest felt tight as the memories of the same words being spoken years earlier flooded his entire being. He meant those words then. And he meant them now. Somehow, some way he knew that Dean would be able to kill Lucifer.
Dean’s hands dropped to his sides as he stared back at Sam and Sam knew his brother was remembering the exact same conversation. Sam could tell the other man was fighting for control of his emotions. “I don’t want to,” Dean finally said, his eyes glistening.
And just like then, Sam knew Dean meant those words as well.
And just like then, Sam gave in.