Because I've just watched it and it remains my .Favourite Ever. Hence the amount of fics I've done for it.
This is for 'Skin'.
Fight scenes turn me on. Nuff' Said.
Summary: Bruises aren't all that's left. Skin Tag. Just a talking session. Fluff, some hurt.
Warning: Language. Plotless. Crazy author.
Disclaimer: I only own the DVD's these guys come in and a few signed stuff. Feel sorry for me, please.
If anyone wants to do a missing scene for this eppy, PLEASE...go ahead. :)
Didn't take a genius to know your face hurt when it's nearly purple and you've hardly been talking for the whole trip.
Marshall State was the next town, when Sam finally spoke up, and what new ingenius vision does he voice?
"I'll get a room."
Oh, okay. So Sam didn't want to talk about the elephant in the room?
"Oohhkaay." Dean sighed under his breath.
The car shook as Sam got his bags and headed to the front office.
Keys in hand to a hopefully nice clean, non-sewer room Sam took the second bed and checked the bathroom.
It actually had a nice bath. This room was nice. And not, budget hunters-that-don't-actually-get-paid nice, actually nice.
Sam turned round and gasped, taking a step back.
"Dean." He said gently, almost tasting the word.
Dean stood about 2 foot away. "Yeah...you're a little jumpy Sam. You wanna' talk about this or should I?"
"Talk about what?" Sam frowned.
Dean stared him down. "Come on man, you know what. You haven't said a word nearly since Becky's, you're jumpy and don't think I didn't see that nightmare on your little catnap. Talk to me man...you know you can. Don't store stuff up and let it bite you on the ass...talk to me Sam."
Sam looked away. "I know."
Dean sat on the first bed, left Sam standing just inside the bathroom, looked like he felt safer there.
There was a long silence and Dean didn't even think Sam would answer his question, much less talk to him.
"I'm just...this is a little weird okay. I know it's not you, he wasn't you but...I'm just...this is-"
"I get it man, I do. but you gotta' talk to me. I won't even come closer, I swear..."
Sam looked almost ashamed.
"I don't want you to have to not come closer, I should be okay with this and it's...messing with my head. I'm sorry...It's just...man, this is messed up."
"Tell me about it."
Sam sat on the second bed, about 2 feet from Dean.
"Try telling my head it wasn't you. Or my subconcious to stop creating scenarios where you kill me. Sorry." Sam mumbled.
Dean looked across at his brother.
Sam looked across too, his bruises vivid even in the dim roomlight.
"We fought." He shrugged.
"That all? You never told me exactly what happened? What he did."
What he Said?
"I thought it was Becky and it really wasn't. Morphed or whatever into you, we fought...you came in saved the day."
Dean shook his head. "No, Sam. What did he do? What did he say to you to get you so freaked out? How bad did he hurt you?"
Sam took a breath. "Becky knocked me out, when I came to it was you in front of my face and I...I thought..."
Dean closed his eyes. He knew exactly what Sam thought.
"I thought it was you you okay. That you'd killed it and then he's tying my hands and I've got this headache and it's not you and we didn't win and he'd got me again. And where the hell were you, Becky..."
"What did he...what did it say to you?"
"The usual, it wanted me dead and you not far behind."
Dean sat a little closer and Sam didn't flinch.
"What's got you freaked then?" Dean asked gently.
"The things he said to me, the way he fought...it was, it was almost like you. He called me little brother and Sammy and...for a second I just...I lost it, he got control and I got hurt. It got to me, and I can't...I just need to get my head round that." Sam glanced across and met Dean's eye. "You died, like...5 hours ago." He said with saddened eyes.
"Are you maybe a little freaked out because just a tiny bit, you're scared of me now? And just maybe you don't trust me?"
Sam didn't answer, just stared holes in the carpet.
"That maybe those nightmares of yours won't stop cos...I'm kind of your killer and I'm with you everyday. That why?"
"I know you wouldn't hurt me." Sam whispered, his eyes closed.
"I know that, but your head doesn't because it just got whammied by Face Off."
Sam sighed, he cupped his head in his hands. "Sorry."
"For what, being human? I'm sorry I didn't get there to kill the son of a bitch sooner."
Sam looked up at Dean, "Shouldn't of let him get the drop on me." Sam shook his head, sitting straighter. Dean didn't miss the wince, the new bruises he saw just under Sam's shirt.
"Seriously, how bad did he hurt you?" Dean asked serious.
"Yeah...it's okay, just bruises. He didn't get time to use the knives." Sam swallowed at the memory.
Dean felt something drop inside him and tighten around his chest.
"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I saw those."
"Man, you made me go to the E.R. and I'm fine. Really."
Dean was stood just by Sam's side now.
"You sure?" Dean asked and Sam looked up.
"I'm sure...I will be."
And then he smiled for the first time earnestly at his brother.
5 days later...
Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to get on with the next hunt that came up, but Sam wasn't voicing anything, Dean himself was itching for something to kill and that look to be wiped off Sam's face whenever he got too close.
Apparently, a team up hunt wasn't that.
Who knew a Priest was so good at tying knots.
Sam was in the basebent, tied to one of the wall supports, and it may aswell have been a damn sewer.
Dean had to play God when the father of one of the oldest churches in Maryland was bringing people back from the dead, for a price. Most of them were worm food again by now, but one.
The Priest's daughter, and aslong as the father had Sam, Dean couldn't touch her.
So, it turned from a hunt to a rescue mission and by the time Dean broke enough doors to get to the basement, he found the Priest's body half eaten in the kitchen, body splayed over a broken altar and without him controlling the zombies, his daughter was back to dead in no time.
Dean took the stone steps, gun in hand just in case there was anymore surprises.
Sam stirred, his head ached from the shovel colliding right in the back of it and he had an odd sense of deja vu even before he opened his eyes.
His arms strained around the support beam and his wrists were sore from the constant rope abuse, I mean God, he hadn't freakin' healed since the last one.
Sam rose his head, he could sense someone coming, something in the room with him and in the low light he couldn't quite make out anything.
A figure turned the corner and Sam watched with baited breath.
Dean's eyes widened, he saw Sam, the blood on his face and tucked the gun away, rushing to Sam's side.
Except, Sam didn't say anything and to be hoenst, he didn't look relieved to see Dean.
"Hey, you okay? Sammy?"
Sam just stared at him, and Dean could swear he saw fear in his eyes.
Dean knelt down, his hands reaching out to check the head wound and Sam...flinched.
"Sammy..." Dean whispered, frowning. This shit needed to stop, yesterday.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you...I wouldn't, okay? Let me just check."
Sam closed his eyes, controlled his breathing and let Dean's fingers probe the back of his head and he winced.
"Okay, I'm just gonna' cut the ropes and we're outta' here. Alright?"
Sam nodded, though he didn't open his eyes and then his hands were free, and his legs and Dean helped him up.
"Dean..." Sam's voice shook, it wasn't more than a whisper.
"I know, c'mon we get out first. Then we're talking about this."
Sam followed Dean up the steps, past the body and out through the house to the car.
"We've talked about it."
"Well then, we're getting it into your head. Cos' last time doesn't seem to be working..."
Dean started the car, brother in tow and headed back to their hotel.
"I just...I don't know...I-"
"Do you know how...hard it is? How bad it feels to look at you when I even come near you and you've this...fear on your face. And if I can't even save you without scaring you...we have to fix this." Dean sighed. "I don't ever wanna' be reponsible for putting that look on your face Sam."
"I don't mean to."
"I know, which is why we have to fix this."
"I just need time, Dean."
"It's not that, it's that he can still get to you, he's still hurting you Sammy, and I can't kill him again. He's gone, it's over but I can't fix this, so we have to."
Sam was silent for a few moments.
"What do you have in mind?"
Dean looked across at his brother. "First? We get your head looked at. Then, I have an idea."
It didn't take them long to get back to the hotel, but with an uncomfortable uneasy silence, it seemed like hours.
Turns out Sam didn't need stitches, but he did need his eyes closed when Dean was behind him and still if he got too close, he could tell Sam was holding back trying to get away.
"Okay, so...you're cleaned. Just don't scratch..."
Sam looked down at the carpet.
"So this plan..." Dean started. "We need to spar."
Sam's head jerked up, his mouth opening but nothing came out.
"Look," Dean held his hands out. "You've got this thing and he's still controlling it. He's dead Sam. You've gotta overcome it, so...he fought with you-"
"And he won." Sam snapped.
"So I fight you...you win. You can beat this Sam, don't let him keep messing with you."
"You're letting me win?"
"Hell no, this is on. C'mon...you can win. You can. Think you're back in Becky's house and you're facing him and you have to take him down to get to the door. To get out, now go...fight me."
"Dean this is-" Sam moved away, but Dean shook his head, sure in his decision, and lifted his fists, looking Sam in the eye with trust. "C'mon." Dean edged him on.
Sam looked like what he was thinking, that this was a horrible idea.
Dean lunged forward, his fist grazing Sam's arm and Sam jumped back, that same look of fear on his face.
"Fight me Sam, this is the only way." Dean wasn't exuding any violence, any anger, he was looking at Sam with absolute trust, being careful of Sam's head injury, and Sam noticed.
It made his voice a little stronger.
"Don't make me-"
Dean swung again and Sam dodged, pushed him back.
"That's it. C'mon!" Dean grinned proudly.
Sam took up fighting stance, he bounced on his feet as they circled eachother and Dean took forward again, catching Sam's shoulder and Sam swung left aiming for Dean's jaw when his arm was grabbed and Dean swung him round and pulled his arm high behind his back.
"You know what to do Sam, c'mon, don't hold back!" Dean watched for Sam's wrist to twist and the elbow jab for him to get free.
Sam loosened his grip and broke the hold, swinging round to catch Dean but he was ready, Dean easily caught Sam's fist, twisted his arms together and pushed him back and the momentum carried them down.
Sam hit the floor and Dean came down and pinned him.
It was too much looking up at Dean again, pinning him to the ground and not being able to do a damn thing.
Sam looked away, his breathing getting too fast.
"I can't do this Dean." Sam panted. Body giving in under Dean.
"Sam, push me off, slip your hands free, you kn-"
"Dean, please, just...get off. Just get off!" Sam panted.
"Sam, calm down, you're breathing way too fast."
"Just let me go." Sam whispered breathlessly, pushing up uselessly with his hands, his chest rising too fast to take anything in.
"Sam! Hey...calm down." Dean said sternly, lifting himself off.
Sam felt Dean release his arms and back off and Sam looked anywhere than Dean's dissapointing gaze.
"I can't...I can't..."
"Give me your hand."
Sam looked up and Dean was reaching his arm down, palm open and he looked...Dean looked a little scared. Not dissapointed.
"I'm sorry." Sam mumbled as he sat up.
"It's okay." Dean swallowed.
"You know, when I first walked into that room and he was...just over you and he had his...his hands..." Dean touched his neck. "I thought I was too late ya know, I was...I was scared-I was terrified that he would be the last thing you saw and...I would never do anything like that to you. Ever Sammy..."
"It just hurts now...that you're scared of me. And I can't really do anything about that...I know you're a little jumpy after...but I want to be able to cut you free without freaking you out man?"
Sam nodded. "I know...I am sorry. It's just gonna' take some time..."
Dean sat across from Sam on the carpet. "You alright?"
"Yeah. It was a ...okay idea."
Dean scoffed. "Yeah, it was my plan all along to give you more nightmares."
"You know...the first time. When I woke up in the sewer and...You just came round the corner, holding this coil of rope and I thought...Dean, ya know. The way he looked at me...it's the way you do when you save me and I...I let him make me believe it was you. And he rushed up to me and I just felt this relief...but it wasn't you and he tricked me again and I wish I could forget it, ya know. But I can't...and when I close my eyes it's there...and I just...I need some time."
"And you, you need to ignore me when I look at you weird or I flinch or back away, and you need to re-convince me it is you, and I'm not dreaming...because I need you for this Dean. This is stupid, but I can't shake it."
"Absolutley." Dean whispered. Catching Sam's eyes when he looked up. "I can do that."