Title: Owner of a Broken Heart
Author: Renegade87 (Tareena Langford)
Rating: umm, T...I guess
Warnings: character death, angst ::shrugs::
Feedback: Hell yea! I didn't post this thing for my health.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam ::damnit:: or anything else from the Supernatural universe…in fact I don't own anything here.
Author's Note: All it is is the ending scene from Heart. I just had to be a loser and type it up myself.
Sam had to walk away. He couldn't continue to sit there and stare into her eyes. He could see the conviction there.
And it scared him.
Madison picked up the pearl and silver gun, the cold object so foreign in her hands and walked the few steps silently over to Sam.
Sam turned around, fighting in vain against the constriction in his chest and throat.
"Put that down."
"I can't do it myself," she whispered. "I need you to help me."
Sam choked. "Madison, no."
"Sam, I'm a monster."
"You don't have to be," he whispered, meaning the words for not just her, but himself as well. "We can find a way, alright? I can, I'm gonna save you."
He wanted so badly to believe those words, but deep down he knew he couldn't.
Part of him was scared that it meant the same fate for himself.
"You tried, I know you tried," she said, her voice breaking. "But this is all there is left," she said quietly, holding the gun between them. "Help me Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you."
Sam stared into her glassy eyes. She couldn't possibly think he would be capable of pulling that trigger. Extinguishing her life.
Madison stared back, wishing he would understand. She had barely known him for a week, but something between them had connected and she needed it to be him.
"I can't," he finally whispered.
"I don't want to die," she chuckled nervously, "I don't. But I can't live like this…this is the way you can save me. Please, I'm asking you to save me."
Sam continued to stare at her. He could feel the tears welling in his eyes. He could feel his resolve slipping through his fingers. Deep down he knew she was right. There was no other way.
Dean sat quietly, watching his little brother fall to pieces and knowing there was nothing he could do to hold him together. This was one time he wouldn't be able to protect him.
He slid quietly off the table and walked up behind Madison, taking the gun from her innocent grasp. Sam met his eyes for the briefest of moments before heading towards the kitchen.
Dean felt his heart constrict.
Sam rested his head against the doorjamb, habit still trying to force the tears away but sheer terror and heartbreak winning the fight.
"Sam," Dean whispered.
Sam turned to look at him, seeing Dean as close to crying as he was.
He knew now.
Knew what it must have felt like, him asking Dean to be the one to take his life. He knew how much it hurt, having that weight on his shoulders. How could he have ever expected his brother to be okay with the same thing he was fighting now? He barely knew Maddie and it hurt this bad. He silently cursed himself for laying that on his brother.
"I'm sorry," Dean said softly, holding the gun.
Sam sniffed through the tears. "No, you're right…she's right."
"Sammy I got this one, I'll do it," Dean choked, willing to do anything to spare his brother the pain. Willing to do anything to protect him, keep him innocent as could be.
"She asked me to."
"You don't have to."
Sam nodded sadly, "Yes I do...please," he whispered holding out his hand.
Dean didn't move, staring at Sam, still trying to find a way out, an escape clause, before reluctantly placing the cool steal in his brother's outstretched palm.
"Just wait here," Sam whispered, walking out into the hallway.
He paused and turned back to look at Dean, choking on his tears. Wishing there was some way his big brother could fix this, be the hero and make it all better like when they were kids. But he saw the pain and terror in Dean's eyes and knew this was one time his brother could not protect him. He sighed and looked into the living room where Maddie was standing silently, staring at him with her own tear filled eyes.
Sam walked through the threshold and over to her, hanging his head and staring at the floor.
He felt her cool hand cup his cheek, her thumb grazing over her own claw marks.
He inhaled shakily and met her eyes before leaning his forehead against hers and kissing her.
She felt the barrel pressed into her chest just as hard as his lips were pressed against hers, felt his free hand wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers twining in her hair.
"Thank you," she whispered against his lips.
A lone tear rolling down his cheek, Dean flinched at the gunshot.