|Just One Taste
Author: smalld1171 PM
I felt compelled to write a little something pertaining to 6X05 and Vampirish Dean. Cuz I'm dark and a bit twisted. I hope any who read will enjoy. **Final Chapter Up**Rated: Fiction T - English - Dean W. & Sam W. - Chapters: 18 - Words: 27,359 - Reviews: 45 - Favs: 17 - Follows: 18 - Updated: 01-22-11 - Published: 12-11-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6546897
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hello and welcome to the final chapter of this story. Thanks to all that have stuck with it. It has turned out entirely different than what I had originally planned. Funny how that works some times. Anywho, I hope you enjoy! Take care and thanks again for reading! :)
Dean rises off the bed in some kind of stealth mode and he feels like a ninja when he doesn't make a sound. He wobbles a bit when a bout of dizziness takes hold and as he feels the burn in his side, he looks to the source of his discomfort. Huh. Bandaged and stitched. Right. Sam. He stabbed him. And Samuel. He patched him up. Dean feels like he hasn't slept for days, like he hasn't eaten for weeks and he feels kinda disconnected from his body. But, there is one thought, one thing that he is absolutely clear on. This version of Sam. It is not his brother. He put him here, in this place. And now, all Dean wants to do is hurt him back. And good.
His eyes drift to the scene at the other end of the room. Two men. Two Samuels. They sit there, engaged in what seems to be a friendly conversation. He can see Samuel's face and he looks quite content. Looks like he is really enjoying the talk he is having with whatever it is that sits across from him. And he can see the back of the other man's head. Watches as he runs his hand through his hair. Well, it is so nice to see that those two don't seem to have a care in the world. They haven't suffered. They didn't turn into a blood thirsty monster, hell, they probably enjoyed every minute of it. Probably planned the whole sordid thing from the beginning. Dean chides himself for being so incredibly stupid. For letting his need of family overshadow everything else, allowing it to turn him into some naive idiot. Well, those days are officially over and it's time to dish out some payback. Have someone else hurt for a change.
Dean scans the area and sets his eyes on the weapons. His focus veers towards a blade...and a gun. Hmm... the gun would be a little loud but the blade? Well, Dean wonders how Sam will feel when it is his turn to be on the receiving end of a brother who just doesn't give a shit.
His life, it is so screwed up. He has lost Lisa. Lost Ben. Lost his brother. What else does he have to lose? He stalks over to the goods, amazed at how unbelievable it is. That those two men are so consumed in their talk, probably about him and what to do with him now, that they don't even seem to notice his existence. Well, whatever, Dean should be used to being invisible by now. No one cares about him, no one cares what happens to him or how his heart feels like it has been ripped out and spat on. May as well go out with a bang.
So, he grabs both implements, one in each unsteady and slightly shaky hand, and makes his way slowly over. Samuel finally seems to notice his approach and nods to the man across the table. Both Samuel and Sam rise from their chairs to face Dean.
"Dean? What are you doing with those son? You need to rest, you need to go and lay down."
He hopes the emotion he sees flash across his grandfather's face is fear, after all, that is what he is going for. "Huh, that's a good one Samuel. No need to worry about me, I'm fine. I was just wondering what you two dicks were talking about? Maybe about what you should do to me next? What kinda screwed up experiment you can conduct on me for kicks?
"Samuel, I thought. Well, you seemed like you actually cared. I thought you were helping me but I shoulda known. That you and Sam here were working together to royally screw me. Story of my life right? Dumb, stupid, idiotic Dean Winchester, always there when the family needs him, no questions asked. Always there to lay the blame on or maybe, let's see...oh yeah. Always there to get turned into a vampire to get some answers. RIGHT? ISN'T THAT RIGHT? SAM!"
Dean is winded. His strength is already starting to wane and he is forced to place a hand on the wall for support, to prevent himself from crashing to the floor right then and there. He glares at the two men as they look to each other. Huh, they are probably trying to come up with another lie to tell him. Dean raises the gun up and points it directly at his brother. "So Sam? Can you give me one reason why I shouldn't just shoot you where you stand? Wait, I know, maybe just a wound to the shoulder, wouldn't want to kill you right away. I mean that's the name of the game right? Hurt 'em, let 'em suffer and then see whether they make it or not? Do I have the rules right?"
Dean sees Samuel raise his hands, as he tries to make him believe he is not a threat. Yeah, right. "Dean, please, put the gun down. I know you don't really want to shoot anyone. You are hurt and upset and confused and not well. Yes, Sam and I have been talking but there are things you need to know. Don't do something you will regret."
Dean scoffs at that. "Right. Well, that ain't gonna happen. And yeah, you bet your ass I am not well! In case you have forgotten, while you were busy trying to plot your next 'let's screw with Dean event', let me give you the coles notes version." Dean turns to stare directly at his brother. "I was attacked, turned into a vamp, poisoned, stabbed and you know the worst part? It all happened at the hands of my OWN BROTHER!" He stops to calm his nerves and take a breath. "So, no, sorry Samuel but the gun is not going anywhere." Shit. Sweat starts to pour down Dean's face, his vision starts to get a bit wonky and he feels his breath rapidly increase from the mere effort it takes to keep his body upright. Okay, so maybe he shouldn't be spouting all kinds of threats, maybe he should have gathered up some more oompf, some more strength, some more gusto before starting a big confrontation. Huh. Oh well, can't turn back now.
Sam takes a step towards him and Dean glares at him. Complete with daggers. "Dean. Bro. Listen. There is something wrong with me. Ever since I got back, I am different. I don't know but I am just so damn good at the hunt now. It's like I don't feel anymore you know? I don't get scared, or nervous, or..."
"...or give a SHIT about anything or anyone but yourself? And those stupid alphas? Does that about sum it up? Right? Nothing else matters to you, least of all me." Damn it. Dean moves his body so it totally leans on the wall now. He still holds the gun in the direction of Sam but can't seem to focus. His eyes drift in and out of faze, two men, then four, then back to two. He tries to avoid it but the gun slowly lowers as his arm loses its fight to keep it level. "Well, I guess you have your chance now Sam. To get your big brother, the big pain in your ass out of the way. Just do it already. I'm done, finished, given it all and have gotten nothing in return, so what have I got to lose? You have already destroyed everything in my life that is worth anything so just finish the job. Put me out of my misery and then you two can go out and save the world." His body slides down the length of the wall and he just sits there, in emotional and physical overload, unable to move. His gaze lifts up and he finds the face of his grandfather look towards him. "Samuel, just watch your back okay? One day he will turn on you too."
"It's not like that Dean. Yeah, Sam is not right but he is still Sam. The cage, well, it changed him. Just like Hell changed you. He needs your help. To find out how to fix things, how to bring the Sam you know back. He knows he screwed up but he wants to change, get back to how he was. To the way the two of you were."
"Bravo Samuel, that sure sounds great, what a wonderful little speech. Did you rehearse that? I guess Sam has lost the ability to talk huh? I mean, really, shouldn't he be the one to lay out all this bullshit on me? He is a master of deception after all. Had me fooled. Tell ya what, I think I'm just gonna stay right here, probably pass out, and when I wake up maybe you two assholes will be gone. Yeah, that sounds good. You can go back to your life and I can try and make one for myself."
"Please Dean. It's true I.." Pause. "I let you get turned. I don't really know why. I was so consumed about getting answers, to get to the alpha, that I didn't even consider the consequences. I didn't think about what it would do to you because I never believed that you wouldn't be okay. You always come out on top. You never lose." Pause. "I need your help Dean. I remember how things used to be between us and I want to be like that again. I want to care, I want to feel, I want to be close again but right now.. I just don't feel anything."
"Ah, poor little Sammy. He doesn't feel anything. Doesn't care about anything. Doesn't know what kind of damage he has caused, what kind of damage he is capable of. Poor thing. Wants his big brother to help him, to bail him out. Well, it all sounds fun and like a really great time but there is just one little problem. You see Sam, I do not trust or believe one word that you spit out of that mouth of yours. So, just leave me alone and get out of my life." Pause. Dean feels his eyes start to tear, but one thought about the smirk on Sam's face as he faced that damn vampire and it seems to dry them in an instant.
"If you find out the answer to why you have turned into such a dick, I really do hope you can fix whatever it is. Not for you, not for me, but for the rest of the world's sake. You are dangerous Sam and it hurts to be around you." Pause. "If you manage to fix it, to get back to the old Sam then that's awesome but don't try and find me. Don't seek me out. I need some time. This whole thing has changed how I feel about you. And believe me Sam, I never thought that would happen. Ever. My Sammy, back from the pit of Hell itself. But you? You aren't my Sammy. So, just..."
Dean feels his eyes well up with tears once again, and his vision clouds over from grief and rage and pain and exhaustion. He can not live like this anymore. He would have been better off if his brother just stayed in the pit. "...just leave me alone and go live your life. Without me."
The gun and the blade clatter to the floor. Dean's eyes gaze towards Samuel and then back to Sam. "Please, I'm just tired. I don't wanna do this anymore." He closes his eyes.
There is a brief pause. Silence.
"Yeah, okay Dean, I understand. I will keep Bobby in the loop with what is going on with me, just in case you change your mind. I'm sorry Dean. For everything."
"But Sam, we can not leave him here, not like this."
"It'll be worse if we stay. He needs some time. We have to give that to him."
Dean pretends he is out as he hears his brother's words. If he looks up into those eyes then he might cave and he can't, not this time. His ears are tuned into the movements around the room. He feels a blanket placed on him, feels hands on him, checking his wounds and then a sigh as it escapes from his grandfather's lips. "Okay, he seems alright Sam. Out of danger. Are you sure about this?" Pause. "Okay then." Dean hears the scrape of the gun and blade as they are lifted off the floor and within a few minutes he hears the distinct sound of the door as it closes.
He remains there, eyes closed, and waits another moment before he slowly opens them. After they take their sweet time to adjust to the dim light within the room, he scans the area and sees that he is indeed alone. And it hits him like a bolt of lightning. Alone. Without Sam.
He hopes that somehow his brother will come back to him in the end. And he knows he will keep track of him. As always. Keep watch over him from a distance. But he also knows this is the best thing right now. He can not trust him. He can not travel with him. He does not know him. Not anymore. And the realization of everything that has happened comes crashing down around him.
And then, Dean Winchester, from his position on the floor, relents to his inner turmoil, gives in to his emotions and sobs. Uncontrollably. And the sounds of his pain, his sorrow, and his loss reverberate throughout the empty room.