By: Karen B.
Summary: Season four -- Lucifer Rising Tag. Sam angst. Faithful Dean. Season 4 spoiler. Inspired by the E/O word challenge.
Disclaimer: I just parachute down into Kripke's dream to play in a world he created.
Rated: Dark… dark…dark…dark -- with a dash of hope thrown in at the end.
Author's note: This story came flying in out of left field. Sparked by an E/O drabble word that never existed. Ha! The non-existent word -- 'Drift' -- the actual word, Alex -- 'Ditch' --
I don't need glasses….just need to squint harder…LOL…Thank you for the push of the muse, E/O….and to you for reading!
All I could hear was the thrumming of my heart, violently beating between my ears -- faster and faster.
Was I still breathing?
I didn't know.
My outstretched hand locked in place, feet frozen, mind physically doing all the work.
I didn't fight the demon blood; letting it drift through my veins. Raging through every nook and cranny.
I'd waited a lifetime, would lose everything, but couldn't worry about that.
I became aware of a distant voice calling out my name.
Soft, not angry.
Pleading, begging, afraid for me.
I felt a twinge of pain-- heartache.
I was burning up inside. The Terminator, Van Damme, and Darth Vader all rolled into one jam session.
Two different destiny's meeting at the same time.
Mine to kill -- hers -- to die.
Dean called for me from behind the heavy wooden door -- again and again. His pleading becoming all consuming, distracting. I was near the breaking point, tempted to stop, but I couldn't. I'd come this far. Compelled by the strange, evil force to finish what I'd started. I steadied my stance, boots chuffing marble, arm reaching further outward. My heart rate increased ten fold; I focused less on hearing and more on killing. Blocking Dean and the rest of the world out.
My brother's hoarse voice did a slow fade.
My blood spasmodically beating -- absorbing.
Standing before the alter, something weird happened. My eyes stung, and an involuntarily thin fold of black skin flipped down to cover them. Like a protective coating, yet, I could still see -- my visual sensory clearer than ever --super human.
After what felt like hours, but was truly only seconds, I easily blinked away the black skin. Lilith lay dead on the floor. Dripping blood and gore. But, something was wrong, and that wrong reverberated deep inside the temple floor. Marble shook, and cracked open, a geyser of suffocating sulpher, heat, and centuries of decay burst forth. I'd exhumed the grave of every evil thing -- ever.
I choked on the stagnant air that swirled with the images of eroding faces, and mangled bodies. Ruby had lied. Played me like a fool, invaded my soul, and I'd let her. I'd broken the last seal. Set him free -- there was no worse act.
Ruby stood on the edge of the pit, looking down, her face beaming, split by a smile. With the last of my strength, I took two wobbly steps forward and shoved the bitch back into hell's toaster.
Flames hissed. Black smoke shot higher, but that didn't stop me. I stepped closer. Teeter-tottered on the edge of a nightmare, peering at the nuclear reactor -- a curling, burning, river far below. I wasn't smiling. Wasn't afraid. I could still stop this. Stop Lucifer before he found his way out of his rat hole. I took in a breath, preparing myself. I'd tumble down the hellhole. Fight the demon worm in hand to hand combat -- through out eternity.
I heard the wooden door crash open.
"Sam, get away from there!"
Dean rushed to my side.
With one nudge, my brother shoved me away from the pit, landing my ass to the floor.
Our eyes locked.
The heels of Dean's boots resting on the edge of hell.
Dean stiffened, waved his arms, frantic to gain his balance.
For a moment he did, perched on the edge of damnation.
I tired to move, reach my hand out to him, but my body was one tall, liquid nothing -- like melted cheese on a stick.
Dean's hands wind-milled, his eyes holding onto mine.
I tired to call out to him, but no sound left my open mouth.
Dean glanced over his shoulder, fear flooding his eyes as he faced hell once again. He turned back to me -- one last, piercing, and fear-filled look before going over the edge.
Another dead loved one -- because of me.
A worthless, voiceless, 'I'm sorry,' screamed through my heart, burned my throat, melted what was left my soul.
I'd done everything wrong. My whole life…wrong.
I'd lied. Disobeyed. Broken the 66th seal. Sent my brother to hell.
I was the epitome of evil -- high octane.
The nightmare faded, but reality lived on. I didn't get to execute my dream-plan. Dean and I hauled- ass out of the Convent, and now only a few hours later were held up in a cheap motel room.
My eyes snapped open to the sound of a distant train whistle and the smell of a burning cigarette floating in through the motel's open window. I lay there in the dark, starring up at the ceiling, watching a monster-sized roach crawl across the cracked plaster. The bug stopped and appeared to stare down at me.
Roaches were on everyone's black list. A plague. An infestation. The foot soldiers for everything ugly, unclean, vile, disgusting, and hideous in this world. Something I should stomp with my shoe, crush with a napkin, exterminate with a can of bug spray
Something -- like me.
I lay unmoving, listening to Dean's heavy snoring, watching the roach scuttle full-speed away -- free-- unharmed -- unaccountable.
My wish had come true. I didn't need a cursed coin, rabbit's foot, feather, or even the demon blood to get the job done. It was me. Always was just me.
Lilith was dead -- gobs of red showing through white. The torment Dean and I had lived through for years should have been destroyed along with her. Hope restored -- what hope? Was there every any? I had become the thing I always feared of becoming. No deprivation chamber, no matter how long held there, would ever cleanse me of the evil black thing I'd become.
There was no second chance, and everything that should have been was nothing more than a crumpled, strangled dream.
I wanted to feel numb, devoid of everything, but it was still there -- that evil something. Trapped inside me. An echo -- a bloodthirsty son of a bitch -- slammed into a dark corner of my soul -- waiting -- waiting for another time, another opportunity to screw with my life, with humanity.
I wanted to be a different man then who I was. I wanted to be taken away, made whole, made human again. But the evil, dark-sided thing living inside of me -- spun round and round at pell-mell speed…there was no touching it, seeing it, pushing or ripping it out.
There was nothing -- just nothing.
I'd never be the same person, Jess loved -- was I ever that man?
In doing what I thought was right, killing Lilith, I'd let out the biggest cockroach of them all -- Lucifer. And where there was one roach -- hundreds more would follow.
How could I ever make this right?
I couldn't run. I couldn't hide. How can you escape the big, ugly thing inside of you? Be like trying to detach from your own shadow.
How could I ever live in a world of evil -- a world I created.
I was fairly certain -- I couldn't. I wanted to just quit, simply stop. Go numb, lights out. No heaven. No hell. Just an empty, hollow husk of nothingness -- deleted.
I whimpered quietly, scrubbing a tear out of the corner of my eye.
Lilith wasn't the demon that needed to be dropped -- I was.
What could I do?
I could flip-out. Do something drastic, surprised that I hadn't already.
I could feel the evil, tingling, burning, a constant reminder. Would the ugly thing even let me destroy myself? My breath quickened, and I struggled to keep quiet as thoughts rolled over me like a giant wave. I was a wooden rowboat that sprung a leak, sinking in an ocean of nothingness, dashed against the jagged rocks of my own inner storm.
The breath was knocked out of me, fatigue, emotional and otherwise setting in.
I could bash in a mirror, soak myself in hooch -- light a match, crack open a couple bottles of pain pills, thrust a knife in my chest, sink a bullet in my brain, find a giant can of cosmic Raid, maybe drive the Impala off a cliff, or…
"No." The simple word floating out of the darkness startled me.
For a moment, the room filled with intense, tomb-like silence.
"No, what?" I whispered, being sure not to take my gaze away from the ceiling.
"No, Sam, you are not checking out."
"I never said…"
"You don't have to. I know you, Sam. We'll figure this out."
"How? Prayer? Crystals? Chants?" I threw an arm across my eyes. "Dean…I'm a mo …"
"No, Sam!" Dean growled. "No, you're not," Dean softened. "You're giving it too much power. Letting it consume you. I know this thing has a hold on you. Gawd, Sammy, I know. But, remember what dad taught us. A Winchester doesn't run and hide from the big bad fugly -- hoping it won't get you."
"That's the problem, Dean, I can't escape this. What else can I do?."
"Sam, we stand and fight and kick its ass! I'm going to get you back, Sam. Push that son of a bitch out of you." Dean paused taking in a shaky breath. "Dude, I swear it," Dean said in a renewed tone. A tone full of a compassion and strength that I'd never heard come from him before. "Sammy." We both turned our heads in each other's direction, eyes locked through the dark space between us. "Promise me." Dean's eyes shown bright. "Promise me, Sam, you'll let me try."
I was silent a moment. I could feel something shift. See something, where there was nothing. Dean was asking me to take a major leap of faith, and in a fraction of a second, I realized something -- my brother -- he'd already jumped off that mountaintop before me. I took in a breath and simply followed. Dean would fight and do all he could. He was tough. Fearless. Determine. And I would match him step for step, fight by his side. Dean had a power all his own, always did. And if we couldn't do it -- beat this thing -- he would do what was right. With tears in his eyes and pain in his heart -- he would do it, and I'd help him.
"I promise." I nodded.
I owed my brother that much.