Bits and Pieces, Supernatural, Broken!Verse, PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural, Broken!Verse
Title: Bits and Pieces
Pairing/Characters: Sam and John
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1142
Summary: Following "Destinations", John is left with bits and pieces of technology, demon and bear inside him.
A/Ns & Warning: Written for ginger_sunshine who bought a Broken book in the last Sweet Charity. Angsty, thoughts about self-harm.
Excerpted from “Destinations”
It was wrong, he knew, to feel like this…after everything he’d told Sam…but it was different this time. It wasn’t any old demon, it was the bastard he’d been hunting since Sam was 6 months old. It had been inside him, it had used him. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Sam the way the demon had…the glow inside him, the raw power unleashed when the demon’s hold on him had been released.
Maybe Sam didn’t understand it all just yet, but John had seen it all, from the blood that the bastard had fed him to Mary’s death…the demon hadn’t been ready for Sam to come into the power, hadn’t expected it…but he tasted it…felt it…and it had come for him…just as it had come for Mary.
John was alone. The motel room was dark and spare and empty. But he could still feel them.
They were there, inside him…and no amount of ritual was going to make them go away.
His hand snaked up to touch the bandage that covered the evidence…the stitches, the wound. He could feel the metal bits, the staples holding the skin closed, the circuitry, the bits of machinery inside him.
As disturbing as they were though, they were just a reminder…inert now that the controllers had been destroyed. Gabe had told him he was safe, that there was no way anyone could control him again.
John new better. He wasn’t safe. He’d never be safe.
The doctors couldn’t remove the hard evidence. They were afraid to try. Ash and his brother had Frankensteined him and if they pulled it out, John could die.
John looked down at the gun in his lap. He wasn’t sure that wasn’t the best solution anyway.
The door opened and John slid the gun down under his leg. Sam’s massive frame filled the door. “Dad?”
“Yeah, Sam.”
“It’s dark in here. Want a light?”
John shook his head. “No…I like the dark.”
Sam nodded. “I know what you mean.”
John squinted into the shadows, though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “You okay, Dad?”
“Fine.”
Sam moved into the room, closing the door. “You’re lying. I can feel it.”
John made a face and looked away. “Please, Sam…” He didn’t know what he was asking…he just wasn’t ready.
“It wasn’t you.” Sam said, stopping a few feet away. “You…you fought, Dad. Hard.”
“Sam, I don’t really want to talk about it.” John looked away, shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He hated the damn thing. Made him feel even more like an invalid.
“Dean’s sleeping.” Sam offered into the silence, as if changing the subject would make everything better.
The image of Dean filled John’s head, the feeling of his stomach ripping open in his hands. It must have showed on his face because Sam came closer, dropping to one knee in front of the wheel chair. “Dad?”
“I could have killed him, Sam.” John said softly, one shaky hand rising to cover his face. “I would have…I couldn’t stop it.”
“I know Dad. I know.” Sam’s hand touched the leg that wasn’t covered in plaster. “But it wasn’t you. It was that demon.”
John shook his head. He really wanted to be alone. He wanted to feel the pain without the pity he could feel rolling off his son. “Not leaving you.” Sam said softly, as if he could read John’s thoughts…which he probably could.
John blinked, tried not to see Sam the way he had with the demon inside him…as something not quite human…tried not to remember the things the fucking demon had whispered to him about Sam.
He closed his eyes. The bright white center of Sam, the rivers of power that flowed through his blood…The demon had wanted him in the most vile ways. It wanted to own him, wanted Sam to serve him…he had plans…and he wasn’t gone. He’d be back.
He’d be back for Sam.
And there was nothing he could do to stop him.
Sam’s hands found his, tugged to get his attention. John looked down at Sam there on his knees, his face, his eyes. “Dad…I can…there’s something I can do…if you want me to.” Sam licked his lips dropped his eyes. “I…I helped Dean last night…I can help you too.”
John didn’t know what he was getting at, what he was saying, but he shook his head. Sam shouldn’t have to deal with that…with his morose, needy bullshit. He had enough of his own. “Sam…I’ll be fine.”
Sam squeezed his hands. “Dad, just…listen. I can…blur it…the memory of what happened. I can make it less…just less.”
John shook his head and pulled his hands away. “No. No.” He sucked in air that suddenly seemed cold and stale. “Sam…” The thought terrified him…what Sam was becoming…what the demon said Sam would do…could do…
“It’s okay Dad.”
“No, Sam…it isn’t okay. It’s not okay. You can’t…you can’t…” He pulled his hands over his face, through his hair. Can’t what? Can’t use it? Sam might not have a choice. Can’t turn evil? John bit his lip. Maybe the demon hadn’t been lying. Maybe it had.
He looked at Sam, tears welling in Sam’s eyes. “You have your hands full with your brother.” John said finally. “I don’t want you thinking you have to take care of me too.”
Sam’s thumb caressed over John’s cheek, easing away tears he hadn’t even felt. “We’re in this together, Dad. We take care of each other.”
“I know, Sam.” John said quietly, reigning back the terror and the pain. “I think maybe a nap is in order. Help your old man into bed?”
Sam smiled softly and got up to push the chair closer to the bed, then offered his father his arm. John grabbed it with his good hand and leveraged himself up and into the chair. He swiveled on his good foot and sank onto the bed. Sam helped him lay back and reached for the bottles of pills. He doled out two of the pain pills and handed them to John.
“I’m just next door, if you need anything.” Sam said.
John nodded and swallowed the pills. Sam smiled sadly, and then was gone. John’s eyes flicked to the wheel chair, belatedly realizing he’d left the gun, but the gun was gone. He stared at the door.
His son wasn’t about to let him take the easy way out. John wondered though if it wasn’t still the right thing. They may have sent the demon back to hell. May have pulled the bear out of him…but he could still feel them…they were under his skin, like the chips and wires.
They would be there with him forever…Bits and pieces, metal and plastic, demon and bear…mixed together with all the broken bits of the man he used to be.
Title: Bits and Pieces
Pairing/Characters: Sam and John
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1142
Summary: Following "Destinations", John is left with bits and pieces of technology, demon and bear inside him.
A/Ns & Warning: Written for ginger_sunshine who bought a Broken book in the last Sweet Charity. Angsty, thoughts about self-harm.
Excerpted from “Destinations”
It was wrong, he knew, to feel like this…after everything he’d told Sam…but it was different this time. It wasn’t any old demon, it was the bastard he’d been hunting since Sam was 6 months old. It had been inside him, it had used him. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Sam the way the demon had…the glow inside him, the raw power unleashed when the demon’s hold on him had been released.
Maybe Sam didn’t understand it all just yet, but John had seen it all, from the blood that the bastard had fed him to Mary’s death…the demon hadn’t been ready for Sam to come into the power, hadn’t expected it…but he tasted it…felt it…and it had come for him…just as it had come for Mary.
John was alone. The motel room was dark and spare and empty. But he could still feel them.
They were there, inside him…and no amount of ritual was going to make them go away.
His hand snaked up to touch the bandage that covered the evidence…the stitches, the wound. He could feel the metal bits, the staples holding the skin closed, the circuitry, the bits of machinery inside him.
As disturbing as they were though, they were just a reminder…inert now that the controllers had been destroyed. Gabe had told him he was safe, that there was no way anyone could control him again.
John new better. He wasn’t safe. He’d never be safe.
The doctors couldn’t remove the hard evidence. They were afraid to try. Ash and his brother had Frankensteined him and if they pulled it out, John could die.
John looked down at the gun in his lap. He wasn’t sure that wasn’t the best solution anyway.
The door opened and John slid the gun down under his leg. Sam’s massive frame filled the door. “Dad?”
“Yeah, Sam.”
“It’s dark in here. Want a light?”
John shook his head. “No…I like the dark.”
Sam nodded. “I know what you mean.”
John squinted into the shadows, though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. “You okay, Dad?”
“Fine.”
Sam moved into the room, closing the door. “You’re lying. I can feel it.”
John made a face and looked away. “Please, Sam…” He didn’t know what he was asking…he just wasn’t ready.
“It wasn’t you.” Sam said, stopping a few feet away. “You…you fought, Dad. Hard.”
“Sam, I don’t really want to talk about it.” John looked away, shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He hated the damn thing. Made him feel even more like an invalid.
“Dean’s sleeping.” Sam offered into the silence, as if changing the subject would make everything better.
The image of Dean filled John’s head, the feeling of his stomach ripping open in his hands. It must have showed on his face because Sam came closer, dropping to one knee in front of the wheel chair. “Dad?”
“I could have killed him, Sam.” John said softly, one shaky hand rising to cover his face. “I would have…I couldn’t stop it.”
“I know Dad. I know.” Sam’s hand touched the leg that wasn’t covered in plaster. “But it wasn’t you. It was that demon.”
John shook his head. He really wanted to be alone. He wanted to feel the pain without the pity he could feel rolling off his son. “Not leaving you.” Sam said softly, as if he could read John’s thoughts…which he probably could.
John blinked, tried not to see Sam the way he had with the demon inside him…as something not quite human…tried not to remember the things the fucking demon had whispered to him about Sam.
He closed his eyes. The bright white center of Sam, the rivers of power that flowed through his blood…The demon had wanted him in the most vile ways. It wanted to own him, wanted Sam to serve him…he had plans…and he wasn’t gone. He’d be back.
He’d be back for Sam.
And there was nothing he could do to stop him.
Sam’s hands found his, tugged to get his attention. John looked down at Sam there on his knees, his face, his eyes. “Dad…I can…there’s something I can do…if you want me to.” Sam licked his lips dropped his eyes. “I…I helped Dean last night…I can help you too.”
John didn’t know what he was getting at, what he was saying, but he shook his head. Sam shouldn’t have to deal with that…with his morose, needy bullshit. He had enough of his own. “Sam…I’ll be fine.”
Sam squeezed his hands. “Dad, just…listen. I can…blur it…the memory of what happened. I can make it less…just less.”
John shook his head and pulled his hands away. “No. No.” He sucked in air that suddenly seemed cold and stale. “Sam…” The thought terrified him…what Sam was becoming…what the demon said Sam would do…could do…
“It’s okay Dad.”
“No, Sam…it isn’t okay. It’s not okay. You can’t…you can’t…” He pulled his hands over his face, through his hair. Can’t what? Can’t use it? Sam might not have a choice. Can’t turn evil? John bit his lip. Maybe the demon hadn’t been lying. Maybe it had.
He looked at Sam, tears welling in Sam’s eyes. “You have your hands full with your brother.” John said finally. “I don’t want you thinking you have to take care of me too.”
Sam’s thumb caressed over John’s cheek, easing away tears he hadn’t even felt. “We’re in this together, Dad. We take care of each other.”
“I know, Sam.” John said quietly, reigning back the terror and the pain. “I think maybe a nap is in order. Help your old man into bed?”
Sam smiled softly and got up to push the chair closer to the bed, then offered his father his arm. John grabbed it with his good hand and leveraged himself up and into the chair. He swiveled on his good foot and sank onto the bed. Sam helped him lay back and reached for the bottles of pills. He doled out two of the pain pills and handed them to John.
“I’m just next door, if you need anything.” Sam said.
John nodded and swallowed the pills. Sam smiled sadly, and then was gone. John’s eyes flicked to the wheel chair, belatedly realizing he’d left the gun, but the gun was gone. He stared at the door.
His son wasn’t about to let him take the easy way out. John wondered though if it wasn’t still the right thing. They may have sent the demon back to hell. May have pulled the bear out of him…but he could still feel them…they were under his skin, like the chips and wires.
They would be there with him forever…Bits and pieces, metal and plastic, demon and bear…mixed together with all the broken bits of the man he used to be.