disclaimer: sadly this is still for my own amusement, and I own nada..nothing...zilch...SIGH!!
AN: So this is the next chapter. I am going to warn you though, and tell that there will be a flashback/memory in this chapter. Now I wrote this whole chapter except that part. I took me three days to get it good enough to post. I found it much harder than I expected for some reason, so please go easy on me there =D I hope ya'll like it.
P.S. I just finished typing this, but I wanted to get it up, and I only did the spell check on the computer, so sorry for any mistakes!
Slowly Slipping Away
Previously (SAM): I watched Jess die again, and Dad die, and of course Dean. I started to watch the first of the dreams that had gotten me to where I was now. I tried to get out of the chair, but knew that no amount of pushing or pulling would get me I continued to watch I kept one thought running through my head, my one piece of hope, Dean was out there, and that Dean was going to save me. I was sure of it.
As Sam sat there and was forced to watch the horrors of his past, he kept up his hope that Dean would stop it soon. But as the show continued on he started to slowly lose his hope, and knew that he could not hold on for much longer. Just as he was starting to lose himself, he let out a sigh of relief as all again went dark, signaling the end of the current torture.
But by this time Sam was exhausted and running low on hope of a rescue. He had stopped trying to free himself from the chair knowing it was of no use. As the darkness continued so did the silence, causing Sam to suffer another kind of torture. The fear of being alone. He was alone with only his thoughts, and after all that had happened the last few months he knew that this was not a safe place to be. He was unaware of how much time had passed while sitting in the darkness, because though it felt like years, he knew it was probably only a matter of hours. Even as time continued on he kept the candle of hope burning knowing that help was coming, but maybe not fast enough.
Sam was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn't notice at first the faint speck of light. As it slowly grew larger, he took notice and watched curiously as it enveloped him and the darkness. It was so bright that he closed his eyes and turned his head only to open them when he sensed a change in his surroundings. He cautiously looked around him now and found himself in a hallway. As he examined it with his eyes it slowly came to him where exactly he was, and he knew that the worse had yet to come. He closed his eyes letting out a sigh before opening them again and taking a closer examination of that around him.
He knew his hallway, because he had seen it before. He had seen it in his dreams, and it never changed, with the exception of adding more doors covered in locks, some more so than others, depending on what lay inside. This hallway was one that he had created in his mind many years previously. It was where he kept every bad memory from his past. As far back as he could remember he would add doors onto this hallway and lock up every bad thing. These doors even included the horrific memories of the past 4 months, his own living hell. Sam knew that all these doors held back pain and that was exactly what he was afraid of. He wasn't sure how much more he would be able to take, before he broke beyond repair.
As soon as this thought passed through his head Sam fought for all he was worth trying to free himself. He fully grasped what was to come, and didn't…couldn't face it. He tried to break free until he had no strength left, and even then he didn't stop. But as a loud creak was heard coming from down the hallway he froze, and slowly lifted his head a sense of dread coming over him.
Sam sat there frozen in both shock and fear as a door on the far end of the hallway slowly started to unlock. He watched as the three locks started to click and as the knob started to turn. Sam was unsure as to which particular memory this certain door held, but knew that it wasn't pleasant. His breath caught as it slowly creaked open, and he waited not able to tear his eyes away.
The doors suddenly flew the rest of the way open with such a force that every door shook on their hinges. Sam watched a figure emerge from the door, and walk towards him. As the figure walked closer Sam choked back a sob as he found the person to be none other than Alastair.
"Hello Sammy. Nice to see you again, though I have to admit this was definitely not what I was expecting in here. But it'll do just fine. So what do you say we let the games begin." He snapped his fingers and disappeared leaving a scared young man behind, alone and waiting.
As sudden as the door had opened it closed and a white-hot pain erupted behind Sam's eyes. It slowly dissipated and as it did, Sam opened his eyes only to close and re-open them several times in surprise. He found himself immersed in a day that he had tried to forget, and for good reason. It was long ago when he was only 17, and he was out on a hunt with Dean. He remembered the day perfectly.
"Hurry up Sammy, we have to get a move on" Dean yelled standing in the doorway.
"Coming!" Sam yelled back.
Sam quickly grabbed the bag he had been packing and hurried over to the door Dean had just walked out of. He was anxious because this was their chance to prove to their dad that they could do okay on their own. Sure they had been on hunts by themselves, but this hunt was all them. They did the research and were now off to kill what they had learned to be a wendigo. They put there gear in the car and turned around as they heard their father approach.
"Good luck boys. Keep each other safe okay?"
"Yes sir" Both brothers said at the same time. They got into the car and drove off leaving their father behind.
The drive was not far to the campsite where the campers had gone missing, and to soon for Sam's liking they pulled into the parking lot. They both got out, and after scanning their surroundings, went to the trunk of the Impala and opened the false bottom. They got out a bag each and filled it with water, first aid supplies, and flare guns to kill the wendigo. Then off they were to start their long trek into the wilderness.
After walking for a little under an hour, they came to the old mining shaft that they had determined to be its lair. They quickly checked their flare guns, and quietly entered the cave with Sam following Dean as he always had. They both stayed alert, and continued deeper into the caverns with no trouble at all. Finally they made it to the opening to the center room. It was large and round, where all the caves converged. Knowing that the wendigo was a great hunter, they resorted to using hand signals to organize themselves so as to stay as hidden as possible.
Sam followed Dean's instructions and started down the right side, as Dean went left. It was pitch black and they only had the light of their small flashlights. Sam was moving slowly when he felt the air stir. He stopped for a moment but after feeling nothing else he continued on. But not a moment after he started walking again he felt the air move around him again, and before he had a chance to react he was flung across the vast room. He let out a yell as he hit the opposite wall and fell to the floor. He vaguely heard Dean yell his name, as he focused on trying to find his bearings in the dark room. After a few moments he was able to force himself to stand up while leaning on the wall. Only seconds after getting on his feet he felt Dean grab onto his shoulders steadying him. By the light from both of their flashlights he could see Dean's concern.
"Sam….Sammy are you okay? Are you hurt?" Dean asked in a harsh whisper.
"Calm down Dean, I'm fine, just got the breath knocked out of me." Sam quickly lied knowing that he could deal with it until the hunt was over.
" But that's the least of our problems. It's hunting us, we need to get out of here."
Dean nodded his head at Sam and after a moment of debating he decided that they would have to leave and come back later. After making sure Sam was okay to walk they grabbed their bags, and again set out with Dean leading. They were almost back to the path leading back outside when the hairs on the back of Sam's neck stood on end. Before he even had the chance to yell out to Dean he felt a sharp burning pain on his side.
He fell to the ground with a sharp yell, and tried his hardest to back away towards Dean. The wendigo was preparing to strike a fatal blow when Dean ran in front of him taking the hit in the shoulder. Even with the injury Dean shot the flare gun with perfect aim. He stood a moment watching it burn before turning around and making his way back toward Sam who was lying on the ground.
"Sam? Crap, you're bleeding pretty badly there. Just hold on a sec buddy, and I'll fix ya right up." Dean finished this statement as he was digging through his pack pulling out the first aid kit. He slowly checked Sam's wound and cleaned it before dressing it. By this time Sam was weak and tired from blood loss. Dean quickly slowed the bleeding of his shoulder injury and taped a dressing over it, knowing that he didn't have any time to waste and needed to get Sammy back. He re-packed the bag and quickly helped a more coherent Sam up.
"Ya Sammy, it's me. I gotcha don't worry."
"It's dead Sammy, we're heading back to the car, and then home so we can get you checked out, okay?"
"What 'bout you Dean? You're hurt too."
"I'm fine kiddo, just a scratch. Now why don't you help me out here, we got a ways to go."
Even as Dean said this, he still felt the blood seeping through his half hazardly placed bandage. But his main concern was Sam, and getting him back to safety. He held on tight to Sam, as he stumbled along beside him. As they continued walking Sam lost all sense of time, and only caught bits here and there, as he slipped in and out of consciousness due to both the blood loss and the concussion from earlier. He remembered getting into the car, and Dean talking to him telling him to wake up, but then knew no more.
The next time he woke up he was in the room he shared with Dean in their small apartment. He realized that it must be late in the night, and that everyone was sleeping. He turned over on his side to face Dean's bed, only to be surprised when his dad was sleeping in a chair with his head near his legs, and Dean sleeping facing him as if still protecting him. Sam smiled a small content smile and fell back into peaceful sleep.
The next time he woke up it was morning, but it was to quiet. He quickly opened his eyes, and slowly sat up. Once the dizziness passed, he was able to clearly take in his surroundings. He looked around, and his eyes fell on his dad, quietly sitting beside Dean, running his hand through his short-cropped hair. Sam was surprised that Dean was not awake and sitting by his bedside, and after watching his dad for a few moments he grew worried.
"Dad? What's wrong? What happened?"
As soon as Sam said this his fathers head shot up, and he quickly stood up making his way over. He steadied Sam, as he was still a bit woozy, and did a once over checking to see if he was alright, and checking his wound.
"How are you Sam? You feelin okay?"
"I feel fine dad considering, but what's wrong with Dean? He was fine when we were coming home. At least, that's what he said. The wendigo got him bad didn't it?"
"Ya son it did. It tore his shoulder up pretty bad, but that's not what's worrying me. I got that sewed up, but it seems as if an infection has already set in. He must not have cleaned the cuts right away. He started running a fever about an hour ago."
"But….he's gonna be okay right Dad?" Sam had a feeling that Dean put off his own injuries to help him out, causing him to get sick. He wouldn't be able to live with himelf if something happend to Dean.
"I hope so son I really hope so."
Sam opened his eyes as the memory abruptly ended, but that didn't matter because he knew what cam next. There were a few tense days where they were unable to control Dean's fever, but after the third day it slowly started to come down. It was another three days after his temperature had come below of dangerous levels that he finally woke up. Sam remembered those as some of the longest days of his life. Especially because he knew that it was his fault.
Sam came out of his reverie as he felt a sharp pain in his side, and he looked around in surprise, realizing that he was back in the hallway again. He looked down to the source of his pain, and gasped in shock, as he saw 3 huge gashes on his side. They were in the exact same spot as they had been all those years ago. Sam could only watch as the blood slowly seeped through his inner and outer shirts. He looked up startled as he heard footsteps coming down the hall.
"Well, well, well Sammy that was some show. I mean who knew you had it out for Dean. Always getting him hurt, almost killed. Tsk tsk Sam, that's not very brotherly."
"You son of a bitch. I don't hurt him on purpose, he's my brother! I would never do that, I love him, something you would never understand." Sam yelled at hearing the accusations. Though in truth it was something he had noticed over the years. It was something that always weighed on his mind. Was he really the reason Dean was alwwys hurt? Agai Sam was snapped back to "reality" but this time by Alastair.
"Now, now Sammy, I'm just showing you the truth. I know you think about what Dean could have had if it wasn't for you. But well I thought it would be fun to show you what he got instead. I mean always trying to save your pathetic ass, and instead getting hurt himself. So self-sacrificing. Though I have to admit it was very entertaining to watch. As for that little cut on your side, well that's just a little consolation prize for playing the game. Let's hope the next door isn't something too horrible, because it would be a shame if you died before I had my fair share of fun. Now you ready to go another round?"
With this last statement Sam watched as Alastair once again disappeared. He knew that the memory he just relived was one of the tamer ones he had locked away, and only hoped that Dean and Bobby would save him before the things he had hoped to forget consumed him. He looked to the left as he again heard a door unlocking. He fought against his restraints, but only managed to aggravate the gashes in his side more. As he sat there gasping through the pain he could only pray that he would survive long enough to be saved. He let out a choked sob as the door slammed open. His head erupted in pain, as he was again lost in things of the past.
Previously: As he finally made it to the guest bedroom and opened the door, his hopeful thoughts were forgotten. He looked at Sam, and after a moment of shock he screamed for help, while running to his best friend, his little brother.
Dean ran over to Sam's bed and watched for a moment as blood slowly seeped through his shirts. He quickly removed the sheet over Sam, and his T-shirt revealing three large gashes bleeding profusely. He quickly started to apply pressure when he heard a gasp behind him.
"My God! What the hell happened Dean?"
Dean quickly turned around not even noticing that Bobby had come in. Looking back and forth between Bobby and Sam, Dean didn't know what to say.
"I don't know Bobby. I just walked up here and he was bleeding. It looks like something attacked him. But how could that have happened, he hasn't gone anywhere. What the hell is happening here Bobby?"
"I don't know son, but it might have to do with whatever Alastair did to him. Come on lets get him fixed up before he loses to much more blood, then I can get started on my research. This might help speed things along."
Dean gave Bobby a look of desperation, and Bobby knew that they had to figure this out soon. Sam was already slipping farther and farther away from them, and he knew that if they lost Sam, then he would lose Dean.
AN: So how did you like it? Was it everything you wanted it to be and more? I hope so!! Feedback would be great....good or bad (constructive please!) Thanks for reading...please hit that magical button down below!!!
Lots of Love