AN: This was inspired by a Sam fan. So forgive this girl, who tends to write for Dean, this may sound jumbled, but I thought I would give this a shot. It will be short, like three or four chapters short. Enjoy.
Following Sam, getting to Ruby, and killing Ruby had been easy, fun even. It was like getting back to the familiar, getting back to what he believed in, killing those evil sons of bitches, and protecting his little brother. However, the look in Sam's eyes, the wild look, the feral look, like a man possessed, like an addict who was without a fix, blood smeared down his chin, pupils dilated so badly that it looked as if his eyes were becoming demonic, and he was coming after him, lock stock and barrel--that had been difficult. Shooting his little brother with a dart gun full of sedative, had been difficult, hauling him to the car and strapping him down to a bed inside the panic room had been majorly difficult. But nothing had prepared him for when Sam woke up, and was chained, iron chains, to the bed, and he started snarling. Literally snarling like a wild animal.
"Let me out Dean!" he screamed.
"No Sammy. I can't." he said from the other side of the room. He couldn't sit next to the bed, couldn't be up close and personal as his brother went through this hell, a hell that was all his fault, and that Sammy should never have been subjected to.
"Because you are too weak? Is that it? You so weak you want me weak too."
"Sammy. Not like this."
"Stop. Calling. Me. Sammy!" Dean said nothing, just watched as Sam bucked and strained against the restraints, screamed and demanded that he do something, that he release him, let him do the job that Dean wasn't man enough to do. He tried everything, he taunted, he pressed every button he knew Dean had, and Dean didn't budge, he simply stood there, rock salt gun in one hand, and the demon killing knife in the other. Bobby came in from time to time and offered Dean water, and Dean refused it unless Sam took a drink, and in his addled demon blood induced haze, Sam refused, refused so Dean would refuse, and Sam could make his brother suffer in the same way he was.
Sam's screaming rants finally died down after hours, his voice gave out along side his body and the rants turned into mumbles of an exhausted man, and were encapsulated in a fitful sleep. Dean slid down the wall and rested his head on his knees. This was worse than he ever imagined. How had they ended up this way? How had everything gone so wrong? Oh that's right. He screwed up. He failed his brother, and his father—that was the reason for this mess. The eldest Winchester felt a hand on his shoulder and tired green eyes looked up and found Bobby's soft ones.
"Son, you need sleep."
"No. I can't sleep while he's like this Bobby."
"Dean. He's asleep. You need rest if you're gonna keep vigil over his bed like this."
"I don't want to leave him."
"I'll stand guard."
"Can I sleep here?"
"I'll go get you a blanket."
"Will you wake me if anything happens?"
"Of course." Dean nodded and Bobby left and returned with a blanket and a pillow. "Sleep." Dean nodded and settled in.
Once both of her boys were resting, she decided it was time for her to come, time for her to take Sam, and show him what was really going on, what Sam really meant in the world, what he meant to others, and why he had been allowed to continue his existence.
She reached down with one ethereal hand and locked onto Sam's soul and pulled it out. Sam stood there blinking rapidly and looking around, to his body on the bed, looking worn out and drawn. The glance at his body made his stomach turned, he looked like an addict, looked no better than the people who lived in squallar and were on the news, dead of an overdose with a needle sticking out of a vein. When had he become this? He didn't' remember becoming that.
Sam turned to the person responsible for this most current out of body experience and aw his mother. She was beautiful, long blonde curls, striking blue eyes, soft smile. She was the reason for everything. She was the reason he had demon blood, she was the reason their father became obsessed, the reason Dean looked lost when he thought no one was looking. She was the matriarch, she was their reason for being, and she was standing in front of him, for the first time not wearing that fateful nightgown, and she was smiling, at him. "Mom?" he asked astonished
"Sammy." She smiled softly and reached out a hand and pushed hair off of his face.
"You came to get me?"
"Get you?" she asked.
"I'm dead? Going to heaven? I actually get to go to heaven?" He said with a hopefulness that he hadn't felt in years.
"No baby. It isn't your time yet."
"But…" He gestured to his battle weary body.
"It's not your time." She repeated.
"Then why are you here?"
"You need me."
"I've needed you for years. My whole life. Why chose now to come? I needed you when I was a kid. Hell Dean needed you, Dad needed you. Why didn't you come to us then? Why couldn't you do something? Why?" He was angry, so suddenly so that it scared him, just moments ago he was basking in her glory and now he was so infuriated, infuriated like he used to get with Dad.
"God works in mysterious ways."
"That's bull mom. That's bull. The angels keep telling Dean that crap and then they make him torture someone, they make him do what will break him. So don't give me that."
"Well he does. And that is the truth of the matter. We are not meant to understand everything. Think about it Sammy, if God didn't allow things you wouldn't still be here baby."
"No. God had nothing to do with it. That's what happens when your dumb ass brother trades his soul for you."
"He loves you."
"He was being selfish."
"He loves you Sam."
"How can he? Really Mom? How can Dean love me?"
"What kind of question is that baby?"
"A good one. Look at what I've done to him." Mary looked over at her eldest boy, who was huddled on the floor, uncomfortable and beginning to dream of hell. His body was twitching and showing the signs of nightmares. "Look at him Mom. If it wasn't for him selling his soul, for him sacrificing everything, just so I can live, just so he wouldn't be alone, he would be fine. He wouldn't be so damaged. He would be sane." Mary sighed and gave her son a smile. "I wouldn't have forced him to start the apocalypse." Sam said the last wistfully.
"You don't understand your brother do you?"
"I know Dean better than anyone in the world."
"But you still think he just did it because he can't be alone?"
"Yeah. Dean doesn't do well alone."
"No. Let me show you something baby. Let me show you."