By: Karen B.
Summary: "Walk out that door, and never come back." -- Sam walks out that door. My version of what I wish could happen. I guess this would be considered an alternate universe. Angst Sam/ forgiving Dean.
Disclaimer: Written in the name of my obsession only.
An Angel Within My Hell
Poem By: Karen B.
A tattered world, curled within a tattered world.
A broken life, living within a broken life.
A nightmare, boiling within a black crock.
A wilting flower, trapped under a heavy rock.
A creature, rotting within a half-human shell.
You, holding on tight -- an angel within my hell.
My mouth was dry, like someone had force-fed me a handful of dirt. The truth, the reality of my life taxed all my strength. As I walked aimlessly without direction, sweat trickled down my back. I was bone-tired and heart-sick. Reality sucked, and if I ever did have a good dream -- it was guaranteed to merge into a nightmare.
I'll take, what is an addict, Alex, for one hundred.
DING…DING….DING….alarm bells rang in my head.
No one needed to tell me. I knew what I was -- not your typical addict. A huge neon sign hung over Ruby's head the first time I took a sip. The blinking warning reading:
DRINK AT YOUR OWN RISK.
This wasn't anything like the stuff you ate as a kid. Wax lips, wax bottles, candy cigarettes, Pop Rocks, and chocolate malts. Demon blood wasn't just an energy snack. Shit was cosmic, a unique product. Unadulterated evil. Most people would rather eat dead bugs. Guess I wasn't most people. Least I didn't have to worry about the cops. I wasn't going to prison for ten years on a cocaine charge. Money would never need to exchange hands, needles would never need to find a vein. Crap, I didn't even need Ruby the way I thought I needed Ruby. All I needed was a black-eyed demon -- any black-eyed demon.
"Walk out that door, and you're never walking back in," Dean had said.
I knew what I was doing walking through that door. Exiling myself. A Winchesteer refugee. Mostly though, I'd be hurting the man who was everything to me. A man who wasted forty years in hell for me. I didn't even try to hide my addiction any longer. I used to care what Dean thought. Okay, so honestly, I still did care. But sadly, walking out the door -- seemed like the only option -- that really sucked.
I'd turned my back on my brother. The only family I had left. Sam Winchester had the 'Biggest Loser' beat by ten-thousand pounds of bullshit. I was on a one-way path going nowhere fast. This was killing Dean. Killing me. My funeral would be first, however. I could just envision Dean standing over my corpse. Shaking his head.
"You were such a fuck up, Sam," he would say, then without an ounce of respect he'd drop a match on me.
I was so screwed.
I needed to get my shit together and I couldn't do that with Dean hanging over me. Besides, I'd be putting him in danger. Dean was good…had the heart of a champion. Me? I wondered if I even had a heart anymore. That's why I took the chance and left. There had to be something I could do to stop the cravings. Maybe, somewhere out there, I could find a magic can of Slim Fast. Lose this extra poundage of demon blood.
I walked, and walked. Not knowing how long I'd been walking, what direction, or where I was walking to; until I couldn't walk any more. I stopped in my steps and fell to my knees.
The wind swept over my face, dragging my hair into my eyes, small particles of sand sticking to my eyelashes and lips. I fell backward, spread-eagle in the sand, staring upward at the rain-cloud darkened sky. Ribbons of seaweed wraped around my ankles. I begged for them to drag me into the water, to the ocean floor, hold me under the crashing waves until I drowned, but that didn't happen.
"Gaaaaa," I moaned and closed my eyes.
I didn't want to need the blood, but I did -- and I needed it yesterday. I licked the tiny granules off my lips and dug my fingers in, gripping clumps of wet sand. I was so unbelievably hooked.
Eyes still closed I started to do the only thing I could -- pray.
"Psst…it's me God, Sam Winchester. I…I need," I began, but then for some reason decided to skip that whole scene. "I'm not an addict," I denied to the big guy who knew better. "I'm doing this to stop Lucifer," I continued to speak my half-lie, 'cause the need was more than that now. I waited for a bolt of lightning to strike me dead. Actually, I was praying, for that to happen. I couldn't control this addiction. I didn't want to hurt Dean anymore. I was jeopardizing the entire human race.
"Just take me!" I screamed for the second time in my life -- hopefully the last. I waited for my request to be answered, but a clap of thunder was the only response. "I'm worthless. I'm standing in Dean's way. You need to take me so he can stop this. He can't stop this with me here." I turned my head watching the waves crash to the shore." You are what you eat. I'm evil. I'm a monster." That truly was no lie. "Dad was right. He was right. I can't be saved. Someone has to kill me."
I'd do the deed myself, but something in my programming wouldn't allow that. I wondered if I could overdose on demon blood. That I could do. I sat up to my elbows, with shaking hands dug in my pocket for my cell and punched one number.
"You, bitch." I scrolled down. "Ruby, I need it," I panted, listening to the phone ring unanswered, not even going to voicemail. Twenty rings later I flipped the phone shut letting the useless device fall to the sand. "Where are you!" I was insanely hot, my voice booming out over the waves. "I need you!"
Dean couldn't hear me. God wasn't listening. Ruby neither -- nobody was.
The rain started to fall, and I wondered how long it would take before the water rose high enough to pull me out to sea. I lay trembling like a newborn kitten, wet, weak, and meek. Not even bothering to curl into a ball of protection when the rain started to fall harder. I held no respect for myself or life in general -- an all new low. The cravings hit full throttle, I could almost taste the blood. I sat up straight, staring at my arm. Demon blood flowed just under the skin. It was sick. It was wrong. It probably wouldn't stop the cravings -- I lifted my shaky arm to my mouth to try. But before I could, there was a strong breeze and suddenly a heavy weight sat on top of my chest, pinning my shoulders to the ground.
"Dean!" I blinked away the rain to be sure I wasn't seeing things -- I wasn't. "What the…"
"You're not doing this, Sam!" Dean looked down at me sharply.
"I'll do what I want," I growled. "You said never…"
"I don't care what I friggin' said, dude!"
"Dean, I'm an infection. Get away from me." I tried to sit up, but my brother forced more of his weight on me
"No!" Dean leaned forward until the tip of his nose almost touched mine.
"Dean, get away. Just get away from me! I'm a monster."
"Frankenstein hasn't stapled you together yet." Dean sat back, but still kept me pinned to the sand.
"Why are you here, Dean?" I shivered, my clothes sopping wet, thoughts spinning out of my head. "You said, never come back. I can't. Dean I can't…you know…there's nothing…" I struggled for words.
"Sam, I was wrong. I was angry and I was wrong to say what I said. I wanted to let you go, but letting go of the living is too hard." Dean's face was dark, but I could tell the drops sliding down his cheeks weren't just from the rain. "You're still alive, Sam and I'm not letting you go that easy, little brother."
"Dean!" I don't know where I found the strength, brutally shoving my brother off me. "I need it…the blood. You saw me. I've got to have it." I fought my way to my feet. "I can't live without it. You can't trust me anymore!" I staggered backward, wanting to make a mad dash to the water and disappear forever, but for some reason I couldn't move. "You know you can't trust me!"
"No bullshit about it, Dean. I'm a monster. I'm a monster! Look at me. You know it. The angels know it. God knows it. I'm a monster, and you...you should be hunting me. I deserve to die. I'm a mons…"
"So help me, Sam you say that word one more time and I'll clock you one, man." Dean's entire body was rigid and his eyes showed nothing but pain. I'd shoved a dagger deep into my brother's chest, twisted the hilt, and pulled, his heart skewered -- a bloody hunk of meat stuck on my blade.
"I… am… a… monster!" I challenged.
In slow motion, Dean grabbed my shirt, curled his other hand, narrowed his eyes and slammed a fist into my chin.
My head snapped sideways, and I landed flat to my back in the sand. In a flash, Dean was on top me again.
"Get off." I struggled beneath him, too weak to do anything else.
"We're going to beat this, Sam. You're my brother, and I know what I said, but I won't give up on you. I thought I could, but I can't do it, bro." Dean shook his head and cleared his throat. "If I have to crawl back into hell, find Lucifer, wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until his friggin' head pops off!" Dean stated his pledge. I swore I could see hellfire blazing in his eyes, and I flinched. "There's still a human inside you, Sam." Dean inclined his head. "A fighter."
My pulse raced and stomach roiled. Drawing in a deep breath, I arched my back shoving Dean off me. I retreated, scooting away on my wet ass, and spitting blood from my mouth. My body shook violently, the taste truly was awful. It scared me, but what scared me more was losing Dean.
"Nice pep talk, Dean." I hung my head, rain plastering my hair to my face. "But I'm not signing up. I'm dangerous. A risk. Could destroy everything." I peeked up through wet strands of hair. "I could …I don't want to…" I stared blankly out to sea. Shame, guilt, fear, booming through my heart. This wasn't about the demon blood anymore. Dean was my brother, my father, my mother, my everything. I was an empty shell that demons had stolen and filled with evil things. Like some crazy piñata experiment gone wide off the mark. "Dean, I want the blood so bad. So bad… I was about to take a bite out of my own arm," I admitted. "I can't control this. I won't…I can't."
"And I can't watch another brother burn," Dean whispered.
I swallowed the bile in my throat thinking of Adam.
"Dean, I don't want you to die because of me. Not again."
"I won't. I won't let that happen, Sam." A hand roughly gripped my forearm and pulled me up.
"Dude!" Through the heavy drops of rain I glared at Dean. "I'm whacked out, man. How are you going to fix this?" I wobbled off balance. "Plunk a few quarters in a vending machine and push miracle?"
Dean reached out both hands and gripped the sides of my face.
"Sam." Dean raised his eyes to mine, a calm look crossing his face. "I know you didn't choose this. I know this isn't who you are… isn't what you want." I could see the waves of grief rolling through Dean so powerful and so high, I thought he would drown in the emotion just standing there. "What do you want, Sam? What do you really want? What would make you happy?" Dean jabbed a finger into my chest, kept it there, pushing inward, harder and harder. "Tell me!" he ordered.
The waves crashed to the beach. Rain tumbled down, sand clung to my wet hair, to everything, just like the damn demon blood had always clung to everything in my life -- whether I knew it or not. Dean and I faced off, shivering in the cold wind. Yet, the world all seemed to freeze -- my heart too.
"I want this to be over!" I yelled, the beach titling to the left. "I want Lilith dead! I want this nightmare all to go away…." I waved a hand, weak, drunkenly dizzy. Everything was blurry, demon blood sloshing behind my eyes. "I want you to help me!" I sobbed, falling against Dean. Burying my wet face into the crook of his neck. "Just help me. Please," I barely choked the last word out. "Help me to be your brother again." My stomach churned like someone had tossed the organ into a meat grinder.
"That's what I needed to hear." Dean gave a brief nod. "It's going to be okay, Sammy. I'm going to help you -- I don't know how, but I am going to help you."
I took a second to step through the grinding pain, and hear what my brother was really saying.
"Let the war begin, Sam. God only knows what will happen, but whatever happens. It will happen to the both of us. Together." Dean pulled me tighter to him. "We're going to learn what us Winchesters are really made of, Sam. You and me together, believe me?"
"Yeah," I breathed, not moving from the warmth I felt filling my cold insides. "I believe you."
"No more 'walking through doors... never to come back,' bullying from me. And, no more disappearing acts from you. Okay, Houdini?"
"No more sucker punches, emotional or otherwise. Okay, Sigmund?" I grinned against Dean's neck.
Pushing away from Dean, we smiled at one another. Our pack made. Neither one of us knowing where or how this would end. Only knowing it would end with us standing by one another's side. Dean draped an arm across my shoulder and pulled me to against him as we started to walk up the beach.
There were no more words. Both of us brought to the borders of understanding. We could do this. Would do this. Wouldn't let each other down. Leave the other standing alone.
More importantly -- we would never cross the threshold of forbidden doors again. If we lost…we were going out like brothers.