Winchester Single Shots: Protecting You

Synopsis:While trying to protect Dean and himself from a group of demons bent on destruction, Sam tries exorcising one too many, with devastating consequences. Birthday gift for Darksupernatural.

Scene Writer: Merisha

Responder: Gill

Sam's POV

I feel relieved as we leave the bright lights of the bar behind us, as we traipse our way back to the motel, and the flea ridden, cockroach infested room that had become our lair. I hadn't wanted to go eat, never seeming hungry anymore . . . . . . . well not for food anyway; but Dean had insisted, and not wanting to rip another tear into the growing chasm between us, I had reluctantly agreed to go, even forcing down food in an attempt to put Dean at ease, to make him think that I was okay, even if I was far, far from it. The small talk between us was forced, the subjects oddball and picked at random, anything to keep the topic away from remembering the Tricksters words, or from the recent use of my powers. I could feel the tension build the more we sat there and pretended, squeezing and pushing in my head, wanting to be released, but unable to find a way out.

I'd raised a hand and kneaded the bridge of my nose as the pressure increased, answering Dean's unasked question with a curt "I'm fine" before lowering the limb back to the table. I'd felt like crying out in anger as Dean ordered another round of beers, I'd just wanted to leave, to head back, to sleep for days, weeks, years even; until all this was just a faded memory. Hunting, the demon, death, Ruby. . . . . . . . Thinking of her had caused a shiver to run down my spine, and a battle of love and hate to rage within my soul. I hate what she has pushed me to become, a man so far removed from who I was, I don't even recognized myself anymore; but then I remember her smell, the soft feel of her skin against mine, our bodies as one, her taste. . . . . . . and all hate disappears, making me want her, need her all the more.

I'd shaken my head in an attempt to displace her from my mind, and focused my attention back to the one that means more to me than even my own existence. I'd watched as Dean perused the bar, I'd known that he was scouting out women and while it had bothered me in the past, I'd wished now that he would act; maybe then the brother I'd used to know and admire would return, instead of this broken shell of a man, but I'd known that he'd not act, even if the woman offered herself on a platter, that part of him died months ago, and what had returned was a man who now doubted himself, who doubted his abilities, a man who I now needed to look out for. I'd watched as his eyes skittishly, warily scoured his surroundings as though at any time he could be pounced upon, and quietly renewed my vow to always protect you.

Feelings brought me back from my lamenting, feelings of danger, of being watched, of hate, of demons. . . . . . . I push myself in front of my brother as sound echoes down the dark, dank alleyway behind our motel, cursing myself for being so far out of it I hadn't even realized we had taken a short cut back. A churning begins in my guts as the shadows that danced and played in the night slowly materialized, shapes forming out of thin air to slowly turn into human bodies . . . . . four of them, four demons against me and my broken brother, could things get any worse? I realize just how soon I have spoken as noise attracts me to two more demons converging on us from behind.

"Looky what we've got here boys … if it isn't Ruby's bitch …"

I can hear Dean snort behind me in an un-amused way, giving me a knowing look as I turn to face him. It amazes me how he can do that, how he can appear so broken one minute, so strong the next. I cringe as the demons next words hit my ears.

"… and the bitch's hell toy."

That elicited a growl from Dean; he hates being reminded of what he has done, of what was done to him, his voice suddenly deadly when he spoke, my arm and hand reaching out instinctively to stop him from doing something stupid.

"Listen here assholes … how about you go on your way … and nobody needs to get hurt…" A small grin reaches my lips, the first to do so in such a long time, as he adds under his breath "… least of all us."

"We're not going anywhere, Winchester! Not until the only thing left of the both of you, are the stains of your useless existence!"

They attack then, weapons appearing as if from out of nowhere, the blows they give painful and accurate. I know we won't last; know I have no choice; we've become targets for every aspiring demon out there. If I don't use it, this thing in me . . . . . . . we will both die here tonight in this desolate place. I won't let that happen. I can't. Dean is the only one who can stop the apocalypse now. I will protect him. I can feel the anger boiling and bubbling within me, racing through my veins like molten hot lava, yet still I try to contain it, try to control it, succeeding to some point until I hear Dean groan in agony behind me, until I witness him fall to his knees, until I catch sight of the sword blade swooping towards his unprotected, exposed neck. I imagine all the darkness, all the sorrow, all the pent up emotions that have been building up inside me, that have been eating away at my very being for so long, begin to ebb and flow. A rage I have never felt before begins to pulsate throughout my body, shaking my frame. The tension from earlier begins to push its way past any barrier I can create in an effort to be free, bursting vessels as it fights to get out, sending crimson streams trickling down my nose and ears, red tinted tears tracing their way down my cheeks.

I can hear my name being called, can sense the fear within that tone, but I have been pushed too far now to retreat, a feat I wasn't even sure I could do even if I wanted to. I can feel my eyes change blue/green to red to black, the sights before me changing with every color until everything is misted in grey hues. I look at the demons then, can see them begin to falter, their hands raised in surrender but it's too little too late, my own demons are surfacing and nothing, or no one will be able to stop me now. I throw my hands out, one in front of me, one to the back, as the energy inside me becomes too much, my fists clenching into tight balls as I try to take down all six demons at once. It's too much power though and I don't think I can manage it. It burns as it courses through me, the pain unimaginable, but the need to protect him is worth any agony it inflicts.

I watch as one, then two, then three of the demons falter then fall, black smoke flowing from their mouths before their bodies burst from the inside, parts igniting and bursting into flames, other parts splattering against anything that stood in their way. My knees buckle as the strain to keep the power flowing grows, my limbs turning to jelly, struggling to keep my weight aloft. I cry out as I fall, glass and gravel breaking through the worn denim of my jeans, imbedding themselves in the skin, bruising the bone beneath, but I keep my thoughts on the remaining demons increasing my powers, ignoring the stabbing throb that resonates through my head, and the increasing flow of blood from my weakening body. I can hear their thoughts; feel their terror, as I push harder to eliminate them. I scream a mixture of pain and rage as the pressure becomes too much," but I won't allow them to hurt you, even if it's the last thing I do, I will protect you." I feel the change as the end nears, a peacefulness courses through me as the last of the power breaks free in a crescendo of noise and a light so bright it blinds . . . . . . . then I feel nothing and a darkness so deep descends.

God, my head hurts.

I can feel the throb of pain lacing through me with each beat of my heart. I groan as I try to open my eyes, the coppery taste leaving no doubt in my mind that I'm swallowing blood. I want to gag, but that will take too much energy. Instead, I try to roll over, feeling a ticklish moistness running from my nose, down my cheek, and … I stop for a minute, trying to identify the sensation … why can I feel that same moistness leaking from my ears? I can smell it … blood.

I try with more effort to force my aching eyelids open, just in time to watch as Dean staggers towards me. He looks like shit. He's covered in blood. OMG … Dean! I try to push myself up again … holy crap, that hurts … can't seem to move. I sigh shakily instead, it doesn't seem important, 'cause Dean's coming here, falling to his knees next to me, the feel of his cold hand slipping beneath my neck as he carefully lifts me up and moves behind me to support my weight. I look up at him then, trying to see how bad … there's so much blood … but I can't see any holes … he seems okay, considering … except he's crying. Not just a few tears slipping past his normal defenses, no, these tears are covering his cheeks, the shiny moistness glittering off his skin. His lips are trembling? Why the hell is he crying … he's the one who's covered in blood … he's the one who's hurt?

And then it comes back. The memory of the six demons, waiting in the alleyway, they were waiting for us. Oh shit … I remember, and it makes my body tense up for a second, another second to look around … another second for me to see the carnage. Six demons. Six dead demons. I look at Dean again, he's talking, his hand cupping my chin … but I can't hear his voice, can't concentrate on the words. So I watch his lips move instead. My body relaxes back into his hold. The demons are dead. The threat is gone. I protected you.

"We're not going anywhere, Winchester! Not until the only thing left of the both of you, are the stains of your useless existence!"

I can still hear that cocky voice echoing in my head. Stains? I look at the red stains on Dean's shirt … they exploded? I exploded them? Cool. Usually they only burn … but these guys, they also splattered. I look into my brother's terrified eyes as he taps my cheek. Glistening green eyes …

Their eyes were black, low growls of amusement escaping dead lips as they started circling us.

Our training took over as we moved into a standard fighting stance, ready to hold them off. Dean at my back, me at his, just like the old days … moving slowly in a clockwise motion, eyeing the enemy … judging, anticipating.

Dean's voice suddenly breaks through my thoughts … I can hear him now, just barely above the rush of blood ringing like a river torrent in my ears.

"Why, Sammy? ... you knew damnit … you knew …"

They were going to kill us, Dean … I had no choice … had to use my powers …

"Shit, hold on …"

I watch as Dean thumps his apparently dead cell phone against his thigh, trying in vain to get a signal.

"Sammy! Sammy, stay with me!"

I used my powers, and I killed six demons … I've never done that before … never knew I could …

"HELP, I need help over here!"

Dean's shouts reverberate in my throbbing skull … I killed six demons … and they exploded … but six demons may just have killed me. Friggin ironic really. I watch as Dean's face starts to fade, my vision blurring as I feel his hands grip my shoulders with painful intensity …

"Sammy!!! Oh God, somebody please help!"

God, it hurts so bad, Dean.

… I can feel his fear as he shakes me roughly; feel that same fear running through his arms as he rocks me …

"Please, you'll be okay, Sammy … please."

… I feel the warmth of his breath in my hair as he pulls me closer …

"Sammy?"

I want to say goodbye …

It's my turn again, Dean … but this time, this time I'm scared ….

… my lips move … but I can't make a sound …

The panic in his voice intensifies … my eyes rolling back as I slump into the darkness that has been embracing me for months.

"SAMMY! NO!"

I wake up later, disorientated and confused. I can smell the cleanliness, can hear the staccato rhythm of my heartbeat playing through machines, can feel the familiar obstruction down my throat, can see movement around me, can feel hands touching me; but movement deserts me, my body stiff, my eyes staring rigidly ahead. I'm alive . . . . . . . . yet dead. I feel I would cry if I could, as I watch you enter the room, as people dressed in white retreat, elation enveloping me as I realize I succeeded in protecting you . . . . . . that this living death was worth it, that you survived. I watch as you hover over me, want to shout out that I'm okay with this, that I'm happy, as tears fall from your eyes; but I know no matter what I say, the sadness you feel wont abate. I hope though that in time you'll forgive me, that you'll realize I had no choice, that you'll move on and find happiness; but I have a feeling I'll be seeing you again sooner than I would like.

I watch as your hand reaches for the machine, watch as your fingers hover over the switch. I can see the uncertainty, the fear, the sorrow, the hesitation, in your eyes and want so much to tell you that it will be okay, that I will be okay. I think somehow that you can hear me, can feel me maybe, because your posture changes as you reach your decision, a strange calmness surrounds you as you take one last look at me before flicking the switch to off. I feel the bed dip as you climb onto the mattress beside me, feel the warmth of your body as you pull me close, feel the tracks of your tears as they drench my hair; but I'm happy, at least I get to spend my last moments with you. I hear your whispers as the room begins to fade, can feel the love we both find so hard to communicate surround me, comfort me. I panic as breathing becomes such a hard thing to do; but your strength envelopes me, grounds me, and as I head towards the light I hear words very rarely spoken from your lips. "I love you Sammy!" Making my new journey all the more easier to take.

Blue Peanuts Notes. . . . . . . . First things first, yes I killed Sammy. Sacrilege I know, and I deserve to be hunted down, but it just fitted so well with the amazing scene that Merisha gave me, and it's something that most of you that know my fics would never believe I would do.

Secondly, I thought long and hard about stating that this was a deathfic on the summary, but I know that I personally hate being told beforehand that someone is going to die, it kinda takes away from the suspense of the story in my opinion; so to begin with I left it off. After recieving a few different opinions I've gone back in and changed that.

Thirdly, Merisha thank you so much again for inspiring me to write this. I truly couldn't have done it without your help, or the scene you provided. Hugs Sherbet!

Lastly, and by no means least; Kris, I hope that you have an amazing day, you truly are an awesome person, one of a kind, and you deserve ever bit of happiness today. I hope that I didn't make you cry with this one? Love you buddy, see you in May, whoop whoop!!!!