Summary. . . . . . . . A short tag to Free To Be You And Me. A look into Sam's mind after Lucifer's revelation.
Disclaimer. . . . . . . Still belong to Kripke, I can only dream and hope.
A.N. . . . . . . . . . So I did Dean's thoughts but couldn't leave poor Sammy's alone, so here's a look into what he was thinking also.
I can feel my legs turn to rubber beneath me unwilling to support me much longer; can feel the air collecting in my lungs gradually going stale as I find myself unable to breathe; the walls of the once spacious room slowly creeping in on me, confining me, crushing me, killing me as I stand rooted to the spot unable to move. I grasp at my head as his words rush around inside my mind, tearing at my hair in an attempt to reach the despised sentences and rip them from myself, maybe if I can't remember them they wont be true; but my attempts are as worthless as my apologies and as my body rebels against me and forces stagnant oxygen from me I find myself falling to the floor, a mess of tangled limbs and fallen bed sheets. I stare straight ahead to where he once stood, the now empty room before me beginning to blur as tears crest over lids and begin to fall in earnest down my cheeks.
Spiteful words begin to assault me once more and I can do nothing to ease the pain they cause. I feel dirty, and used, and tainted. I didn't deserve this, I don't deserve this. I just wanted to be normal, to have a safe life, to get married to a wonderful girl, have kids, work 9 to 5 Monday to Friday, to be human. I never wanted hunting, and things that go bump in the night, angels and demons, ghouls and crossroads deals, blood. Yet it seems it was always my destiny, a destiny created before I was even thought of, and nothing I could ever do, nothing I ever can do, no matter how far I have run, no matter how far a can run, that destiny would, and will, always be able to find me.
I stumble to my feet, my coordination like that of a child as I lurch for the bathroom, the need to expel anything and everything inside me overwhelming me. I drop to my knees, barely managing to lift the lid before the first bout of the vile liquid comes rushing up my throat. I find myself waiting for the comforting hand that has always been able to make being sick that much more bearable, feeling much worse and so terribly alone when after a few seconds it registers that the hand is no longer there to support me. My rock having crumbled and deserted me, no longer willing or able to trust a person who would chose the route I chose, and follow a demon set upon releasing armageddon. I miss him so much it hurts, want to return to him so badly it cripples me, but I made my choices, chose to leave to try and get myself straight, and his reaction to my decision showed me just how far I had fallen, showed me just how much he now thought of me. I can't blame him, I screwed up royally, but a part of me still does, a part of me still needs his love and reassurances.
I use the sink to pull myself up from the floor after the last vestiges of supper have been expelled. I try to avoid the mirror above the sink as I splash cold water across my face, not wanting to see the sight that would be looking back at me, the black eyes I'm sure will be there, but morbid curiosity compels me to do so, a need, a want consuming me to glance into the eyes of the one who has doomed mankind to hell; but all I see as I lift my weary head up is the same haunted hazel orbs that have stared back at me all my life, and the guilt at what I've done, at what I will become grows stronger within me.
I push away from the sink, unwilling to look any more. I want to find the will to fight, I need to find the will to fight, but I no longer feel strong enough to do so on my own. I force down the urge to drink again, the tangy taste of the blood forced into my mouth returning to tantalize me, but I refuse to take that path again, refuse to believe that that is the only destiny open to me, instead I rush back into the main room and start haphazardly throwing things back into a duffel I only recently unpacked. I have to go back. I have to return to the only one who can help me. I can't do this alone, I don't want to. I have to find my brother, I have to make him understand how much I need him. I have to tell him the truth about what I am to become and regain the trust that I so carelessly shattered, because if I don't the consequences don't bare thinking about.
A.N. . . . . . . . As always thanks for reading, sorry about the length although I hope that you still enjoyed this little one shot, catch you soon, Peanut x