Summary. . . . . . . Set after the season finale, kinda what I would love to see, a destroyed Sam, and Dean being there for him.
Disclaimer. . . . . Kripkies, only playing with his creations.
A.N. . . . . . . Well the first chapter went down well, and I had a few requests to add to the story a little bit further, to delve deeper into Sam's fight back from depression, so here it is. As always thanks for stopping by and taking a look, Peanut x
"Listen to me, you blood sucking freak. Dad always said I'd have to save you or kill you, well I'm giving you fair warning, I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster Sam. A vampire. You're not you anymore, and there's no going back."
Sam awoke with a jolt, a hangover from hell making him think his skull was being split in two, the voicemail message from Dean repeating itself over and over in his mind, increasing the pounding in his head tenfold; but he relished the pain as it pushed away all other feelings, making him feel almost human again. He shielded his eyes against the sunlight that was gradually piecing it's way past Bobby's well worn net curtains, his mind drifting back to the yesterday and his attempt to run from his troubles, to hide at the bottom of many bottles, to drink so much it would take him away from all that had happened, to erase this past year altogether. He should have known, should have learnt from his own Father's past, that drinking never seemed to solve anything, the troubles always seeming darker the next day. Needing a glass of water to ease the dryness of his mouth, he quietly pushed aside the thick blanket that either Dean or Bobby had placed over his shivering, wet form once the two brothers had made their way back, Sam so out of it he barely remembered. Sliding his long legs off the well worn couch in Bobby's library, he waited for the room to stop spinning before standing and padding barefoot towards the kitchen.
He looked longingly towards the front door, a part of him still wanting to leave, to escape, but he knew it would be no use his troubles were a part of him, and he was something he could not run away from; besides if he knew his brother and his friend, the door would be warded, some sort of alarm attached that would alert Dean if he left. As he passed the stairs that rose to the upper levels of the house and the room that his brother now slept in; a room they used to share; a room he now refused to step foot in, feeling he didn't deserve the comfort it always gave him; he paused, a need to be near his brother consuming him, a need to be comforted, to be told again that everything would be okay, to be told that they were still brother's, always had been, always would be no matter what. He placed a foot upon the first tread, but couldn't seem to go any further, guilt and shame preventing him from seeking Dean out and receiving even a small amount of solace. Instead he dropped his foot back to the floor, and turned his way back to the kitchen, despair weighing heavily upon his slumped shoulders.
He shivered as he entered the chilly room, wishing he had brought the soothing warmth of the blanket with him. Opening the cupboard he reached inside and grasped at one of the glasses, gripping it tightly in trembling fingers after he almost dropped it. Turning on the tap he placed the glass to one side as he waited for a few seconds for the water to turn colder. Running his hands under the wetness he dragged them through his sweat soaked, dirty hair, wincing as his digits caught in the tangled mess, a reminder of just how far he had let himself go. Wiping his hands on his damp tee, he picked up the glass and placed it under the water. He was just reaching for the tap as Bobby's latest mutt, startled by something began to bark outside. The sudden noise unnerved him, causing his already shaking hands to jump, the glass slipping from wet fingers to fall and crash to the floor, breaking into shards that spun and scattered across the scuffed linoleum. It was too much for his already fragile mind, and he slumped despondently to the ground ignoring the wetness as it seeped into his clothes, and the glass as it cut through tattered denim and embedded itself into his flesh. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he allowed his head to fall despairingly, the tears that seemed an everyday occurrence now falling from sunken eyes once more. So caught up in his desolation, he didn't hear the footsteps that raced along the landing above, didn't hear the cries of his name being called, didn't hear those same footsteps enter the room he now sat in, didn't hear the sadness that radiated from the tone his brother spoke in; all's he heard was the screams of the nurse, the laughter of Lillith, the mocking voice of Ruby, the white noise as Lucifer arose.
He didn't know how long he sat there before he became aware of his surroundings once again. It was little things at first, the chime of the clock in the lounge, the birds twittering outside, the sun sending spikes of pain lacing through his brain, the pain of small piercing cuts, cold and wetness seeping into his bones, the familiar smell of gun oil, leather, and the aftershave Dean always wore, the heat of a body planted next to his. Lifting his head, he rubbed weakly at crusted lids before blinking repeatedly, trying to clear his fatigue blurred vision. Turning slowly to the side, he whispered "I'm sorry I woke you."
"I was already awake Sam, there's nothing to be sorry for."
Sam looked closely, unbelievingly at his brother, even more shame washing over him as he took in the dark circles that ringed Dean's eyes. "God Dean! I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I caused all this. I'm sorry you're not sleeping. I'm sorry about the blood. I'm sorry about Lillith. You should do what Dad wanted you to do, I don't deserve to live, kill me. Kill me please."
Dean pushed angrily away from his brother as Sam spoke, the begging for death tearing away at a heart already too fragile. "I can't do what you're asking Sam. I wont."
"But why? After everything I've done, why?"
"Cause you're my brother. Family don't do that to each other. Dad was an ass for even putting that thought in my head. We can work through this Sam. The hardest part is done now, we just gotta start looking forward and forget all the things behind us. It's the past. It's over."
"It'll never be over for me."
"Because why?" When his brother didn't reply, choosing only to bow his head once more, hiding his expressive eyes from him; eyes that always spoke the truth, Dean tried again. "What aren't you telling me Sam? What don't I know? What are you hiding?"
"I can't tell you. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Not yet. Please just drop it."
"Sam, I can't help you if you wont let me in. Please let me in."
"What do you want to know Dean?" Sam angrily replied, wiping at the moisture that still fell readily from his eyes. "That I feel like a part of me is dead, that it died along time ago in Cold Oak. I feel like I'm drowning Dean, and I'm not even in water. I'm pushing for the surface, but it just keeps moving further and further away. I so desperately want to give up, to quit swimming, but I can't. I can't. And do you know why?" Dean stayed quiet, knowing that if he spoke now Sam would clam up and the moment would be gone. " You Dean. You. I wont give up because I know, deep down inside me, that you don't want me too. So I keep swimming, trying to find a way out, but it's so hard Dean, so hard. And I don't think I'm strong enough to do this alone."
"That's just it Sam, you not alone in this, you have to believe me, please."
"Your brother's right Sam." A voice rang out form the doorway. "You're not alone, you have family that is here to help, let them." Bobby finished off, pointedly emphasizing the word family. He waited for the words to sink in before adding. "What happened with Ruby coulda happened to any one of us. We've all been duped at one point or the other. Now though we just have to make things right again. Together as a team. A family."
Sam looked between the two, the love and trust that had been missing in his brother's eyes this past year, now back along with determination. Determination to see Sam succeed. As he looked back at Bobby he saw the same things repeated in his eyes also, his broken soul mending a little, and a small piece of resolve, of strength growing inside him, beginning to wash away the anguish, and guilt, and shame. He knew it would be hard, new that he would crash at some point, but he also knew he had family there now to help him; family that he could trust, and maybe one day tell the truth to, the truth of just how far he had really fallen. For now though he was content to take Dean's hand as it was offered, content to be guided upstairs to the room they always shared, content to take comfort in the fact that he had someone to watch over him, as he fell into the first real slumber he'd had in weeks.
A.N. . . . . . . . . Well I hope you think the added extra was worth the read. Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and added to favs, will catch you later, Peanut x