Comments | rivelatalogs: so sacrifice yourself, and let me have what's left; closed/ongoing

waywarded in rivelatalogs

so sacrifice yourself, and let me have what's left; closed/ongoing

Aug 11, 2008 01:29

WHO: The Winchester Bros.
WHAT: Sam wants answers.
WHERE: Their place
WHEN: Today, evening.

( you take the breath right out of me and left a hole where my heart should be. )

place - housing district, Ω sam winchester, Ω dean winchester

Comments 14

waywarded August 11 2008, 06:48:48 UTC

Sam felt a flash of annoyance. Dean was avoiding the subject again. Trying to protect him or something with an idea that it was better that he didn't know. Dammit, Sam wasn't a kid anymore, and Dean couldn't shield him. Maybe when they were kids, he could get away with this sort of thing, but not now.

"Dammit, Dean. Don't joke about this." Sam made a frustrated noise, got up, started pacing back and forth across the room.

"You show up here, bleeding, looking like you've been dragged to hell and back. You won't talk. You won't let me help you. Yeah, well, you always told me not to hide anything from you. Look- I'm not five. You can't protect me anymore. You can't pull your 'I've got to look after my younger brother' bullshit because we have to look out for each other."

He didn't mean to be so harsh, but the fact that Dean was joking about this- his stupid, 'I don't give a crap because I'm too cool' attitude. Fuck.

'I told you why I summoned that demon. I told you everything. Everything." Sam said flatly, crossing his arms and ( ... )

rotisseriedean August 17 2008, 00:15:00 UTC

Dragged to hell and back. Dean snorted, clearly trying not to take any of this seriously. That was a good one.

They have had this discussion too many times before. Discussions about not keeping anything from each other ever since the demon king bullshit, and the fucking Yellow Eyes screwing up their whole life. It could have been daisies and sunshine without his sorry ass, but now it was Hell, hounds, and Sam's fury wearing down at him.

There was a difference between telling Sam that he was going to Hell in a year, and telling Sam that he had already paid it a visit for a few decades already.

"You really want to know?" Dean asked, bitter.

waywarded August 17 2008, 02:52:40 UTC

What the hell was wrong with him?

"Of course I do. I want the truth." he said stubbornly, shaking some loose hair out of his eyes for a second to fix Dean with a stare.

All of this secrecy- the bitterness in Dean's voice. He didn't understand. It had something to do with their timelines or something- because the last thing he remembered was the impact of the car crash, and that wouldn't screw his brother up this much. So something had to have happened- in the future. A scary thought for Sam but he pushed it away anyways.

Sam's brows knit together for a moment before softening, letting out a long sigh. "I want to help you." he said simply, lowering his voice a little so he didn't sound quite so harsh. "I told you I'd do anything for you, but you'd never ask."

rotisseriedean August 21 2008, 18:32:47 UTC

He wanted to know, and he wasn't going to leave him alone until he knew. Dean leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed. It wasn't going to be easy, he knew that. Sam wanted to help, Sam would do anything to help, but unless he could erase the fucking memories from his mind. At least it wasn't as bad as when he first got here when everything was a threat, when everything was fucked to hell. Admittedly, it could be worse.

Right. Stalling.

Dean gave Sam a hard look.

"Hell."

waywarded August 23 2008, 02:23:08 UTC

Crunch time.

Time to see if Dean would tell him, if he trusted him enough to open up.

He let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

And stared.

"What?" Sam was so confused right now. Hell- what about hell? He was drawing a complete blank right now, had no idea what Dean was talking about. When did he-

Wait.

Dean- went to hell?

That would explain everything. The reason he was so fucked up. The reason why he couldn't sleep, woke up screaming, shivered at tropical heat. Why he had this insane paranoia that everyone was a demon. It all made sense.

Sam buried his face in his hands for a moment, trying to work up the words to speak. What exactly do you tell someone who has been to hell?

"Why?" his voice was cracked, broken.

And all the while, Sam tried to think of a way he could help Dean sleep. Because he was going to drive his body to exhaustion if he kept up like this.

rotisseriedean September 5 2008, 20:24:25 UTC

The reaction was typical. Astonishment, depression, disappointment, whatever. Dean couldn't look at him anymore, casting his gaze to the side instead of looking straight at his brother. Couldn't tell him why, couldn't tell him what it was for.

Dean couldn't live without Sam. Dean couldn't survive without Sam. It was a selfish move out of love and desperation, because he was not strong or brave enough to handle the rest of his years on his own. Sooner or later, he would have taken a bullet to the head any way. It was inevitable.

The hunter didn't answer, sitting there, sitting back with a blank expression.

waywarded September 17 2008, 01:56:12 UTC

Dean wasn't looking at him. Wasn't answering because he could be so damn stubborn when he wanted to and Sam knew he wasn't going to get anything out of him tonight. Or maybe ever. So he shoved down all the questions he was dying to ask, shoved down his initial response to tell Dean that he was an idiot, and just looked back. Said nothing and there was silence for a moment. God, Dean looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Bags around his eyes and everything ( ... )

rotisseriedean September 18 2008, 22:17:27 UTC

If Dean believed in God, a higher power, anything divine and holy, he would have said a hallelujah. Sam didn't ask any further questions on the subject of Hell. He only appeared weary, and though Dean felt a pang of guilt about it all, he couldn't say a thing. The truth would only hurt way fucking more than it should. He had enough arguments about this with the 'other' Sam.

"What'll help?" Dean cocked an eyebrow, pursing his lips. "Dressing up like a dyke?"