Tears of the soul
Disclaimer: Sadly just borrowing the brothers for a while. Don't know anything.
AN: Please read and if you could review that would be great. IMPORTANT QUESTION in the note at the bottom!! Enjoy.
Sam slowly woke from his restless sleep when he heard the soft rustling coming from the right of his bed. He opened his eyes, his hand already reaching under his pillow ready for an attack. As he slowly turned over and opened his eyes, he let out a small sob at what he saw. He thought back to how many times he had already been through this. He slowly sat up with the gun from under his pillow still held tightly in his hand. He flinched when he finally heard him talk.
"Sammy? You okay man?"
Sam sat there shaking, trying to get out of this dream. He had been through it so many times, and he wasn't sure how long he would last, before he took action to wake up from his dream. He got up from the bed still holding his gun and stood there looking into the confused face of Dean.
"Sammy? Why are you holding that? Why don't you put it down huh?"
"No! Not again. Just leave me alone. Haven't you done this to me enough times? Please." Sam whimpered as he stood there holding out the gun.
Sam was waiting for Alastair to allow him to wake up, but after a moment he realize nothing would happen. He hated this dream just as much as the other. He knew what it would take to wake up, but wasn't happy about doing it. He thought back to the first time it had happened. It was the night Dean had died. He remembered listening to Deans screams and yells for him to help. After a while of that torture he woke up, and that night he cried himself to sleep. The next night it was this same dream. The one where Dean was still alive. He was so scared that he ran from the hotel room and ended up getting hit by a car. He knew he should have died, but all that happened was him waking up in the middle of the night, in Bobby's guest room.
Even after he left Bobby's the dreams still kept coming, alternating between watching Dean getting tortured, and Dean still being alive. It was a never-ending cycle up until a couple of days ago. His dream was instead of Dean returning from hell, alive and well. It was the best dream Sam had had in four months, but he new it wouldn't last.
So here he was back into the old cycle preparing for the only way out he knew of. He slowly put the gun up to his head just as Dean started to yell and run at him.
Dean was trying to be quiet as he was digging through his duffel looking for his favorite flannel tee shirt. As he was doing so, he heard a rustling coming from the other bed, knowing that Sam was probably waking up. He kept at his digging, but stopped when he heard a quiet sob coming from Sam's bed. Dean turned to look over at him watching as Sam slowly got up into a sitting position. Right away he noticed the gun that was being tightly held in his little brothers hand.
"Sammy? You okay man?" As Dean asked this he watched as Sam visibly flinched.
Confusion clouded his face as he watched Sam sit there shaking in what looked like fear and sadness. Soon though as Sam stood up, still not releasing his hold on the gun, his confusion changed to worry.
"Sammy? Why are you holding that? Why don't you put it down huh?" Dean asked in a placating manner, trying to get Sam to let it go before he did something stupid.
As he started to take a step toward Sammy though he heard Sam whimpering. As he heard the words coming out of his mouth, he stopped in his tracks. He didn't understand what Sammy meant, and was unsure of what to do. Dean watched as Sam just stood there looking at him with a face full of such anguish that it hurt Dean just to watch.
Dean remembered a saying he heard once about eyes being the gateway to the soul, and at that moment he saw it. A look of such sadness and hurt that he knew had never been there before. He watched as tears started to slowly weave intricate patterns down his face. He didn't understand what was going through Sam's mind, but at that moment he knew. He understood that something had hurt his little brother. So bad that Dean was unsure if he would ever be able to help Sam heal it. Just as sudden as suddenly as Sam had started crying he stopped, and a look of resignation came over him. Dean could only watch as Sam slowly raised the gun up to his head.
As the full realization came to Dean of what was happening, he snapped into action.
"Sammy!" Dean cried in fear as he ran the short distance between himself and Sam, tears collecting in his eyes.
A few moments after the anguished cry of an older brother, a gunshot could be heard coming from the nondescript motel room.
AN: So how was it? Good? Bad? Please review and let me know what you thought. Also if you could, I am unsure of the direction to end this story, or if I should even continue. I have three roads and I was wondering if you could help me choose. Please tell me your choice, even if that's all you have to say.
The bullet reaches its intended mark. (Death fic).
The bullet doesn't hit for a kill shot, but still hits Sam (will be fluff, and chick flick).
Dean gets there in the knick of time. (fluff and chick flick).
This would help me tons. Thank you so much for reading.
Lots of love