Disclaimer: Nope not mine. And I don't think they would put something this dark on T.V. since my last escapade...
I'm honestly sorry. I have no idea what came over me today, I just feel completly dark and... I dunno... semi-evil. ^._.^ - Rawr!
Sam is 15
Dean is 19
And heeeeeeere we go :)
Summary: After all the crap Sam has been through, and that's a lotta crap, he's had enough. Somewhere deep inside, he cracked, snapped, got warped. Can John and Dean get him back to normal, or is Sam meant to be this... heartless, unstoppable, emotionless thing that was no more Sam Winchester than you or I?
Sam Winchester had had the worst day of his life and he needed something; scratch that, someone, comforting. So, obviously, he needed Dean. His big brother who was there for everything. But... not this time.
This was how Sam's day had been:
School had been the same as it had been all this month: terrible. A month had been one of the longest times Sam had stayed in a place in a long time, but of course luck wasn't on his side and this place happened to be full of assholes.
Today he was beaten to a bloody pulp. He'd like to be able to say, 'You should see the other guy.' but he can't. Because he would have to change that to, 'You should see the other guys' As in more than one.
Yes, Sam had managed to defend himself against two, hell throw three in there and he still had it, but when seven, SEVEN, of them ganged up on him in an alley behind the school, he hadn't stood a chance. Escpecially with them all being on the football team.
So Sam had stayed in the alley for what seemed like hours afterwards, trying to still the pain coursing through his veins every time he breathed.
When he could finally stand up he noticed the sun was setting. He needed to get home in a matter of moments, or else Dean would freak. out. So Sam ran, agains the protest of at least 4 broken ribs, what seemed to be a fractures wrist, what he knew to be a slight concussion, the bruises he was sure were forming on his arms and legs and torso, and that was just the tip of the ice berg.
Hopefully Dean wouldn't scrutinize Sam too closely tonight.
But when he got home, he was greeted by an old pickup in the motel parking space and a missing Impala. He allowed himself a small smile, Dean was gone and his Dad was here.
'At least he won't care that I'm hurt.' Sam took another look at the sky, 'But he will care that I wasn't home when I was supposed to be. I don't suppose he'll listen to the truth either...'
Sam sighed and entered the motel room to be greeted by a, "SAM! THERE YOU ARE! I've been worried sick and what... you decided to get into a little fight! You should know better Samuel."
Sam flinched and closed the door, swinging his backpack off his shoulder and onto the ground. He looked up at his Dad and muttered, "I'm sorry, Sir."
Then, John exploded, "GODDAMMIT SAM! That's all I ever hear from you! I'm sorry this, I'm sorry that! Well, maybe you wouldn't be so sorry if you weren't such a pathetic screw-up! If you were more like your brother, maybe you would be a better hunter, hell a better SON!"
That part hit Sam deep, "You want me to be more like Dean, Dad? Really, that's what you want? WELL TOO DAMN BAD! My name is Samuel Micheal Winchester and I'm NOT Dean! So give it a fucking rest for once! Can't you at least be proud of me for me? Is that so bad too ask!"
Sam should have been expecting the punch that came at him, or the next one, or the next one, or even the kick after that. But he didn't. So he didn't get a chance to fight back. Especially not with his previous injuries. He dropped after the last punch and then the kick came, hitting him square in the ribs that he was sure were already broken.
"Do NOT talk to your father like that. Not now not ever, you got that boy.
But still, Sam managed to get up, look his Da- no look John right in the eye and say, "You may be my father, but you have never been my dad. And to whom it may concern; definatly not you but, your son, Sam, was held down today in an alley in the back of the school while 7 football player beat the living shit out of him. Broken ribs, concussion, fractured wrist, and that's just the begining. So thank you John, for most likely breaking apart my ribs. Thank you."
John's face paled and he started at his son's torso in horror, but soon the famous Winchester mask recomposed across his face and he left the room in a hurry.
So as Dean entered the room, Sam just really needed a hug, hell a hand on the shoulder would work. Sam was sitting on Dean and his bed and as Dean came he looked at him.
But Dean's face contained nothing but fury, "How the hell could you say those things to Dad, Sam? Do you not know what he's done for us, how much he's sacrificed?"
"He hasn't sacrificed anything but our childhood! He yelled at me for being beat to a bloody pulp, then he did it himself! What kinda parent does that!"
Dean walked over to the bed, pulled Sam up by his shirt collor and said straight to his face, "The parent wouldn't so that unless the kid was a weak, pathetic kid who still crys over a broken leg. The parent wouldn't do that unless the kid deserved it, unless he was asking for it. So Sam, in my eyes, you're a snot-nosed kid brother who can't stay out of trouble and is nothing but a nuisance and screw-up. You're lucky Dad didn't kick you out. Now I'm taking a shower, and when I get back out you better be asleep. On the floor. You are NOT sleeping in my bed tonight."
I stood there stunned as Dean walked into the bathroom. So I was weak? Pathetic? I cry too much?
I could just leave...
Be the perfect soldier...
Come back one day when I'm good...
When I'm worth something...
When I don't screw up, maybe?
I'll do that.
I'll do that NOW!
I grabbed a pen and wrote a note:
Dean and John,
I have left. I might not come back. But if I do come back, rest assured I will no longer be me. I will be a hunter. I will not make mistakes. I will not cry. I will not be nuisance. I will be good. I will be a soldier. Just like you Dean. I will try and make you proud John. But if something happens to me, don't come. Forget about me until I come back, if I do. Hopefully I will. If not, please know that I will have died fighting against evil. For if I can't come back, I will die trying to be good enough.
Samuel M. Winchester
I quickly signed it and then grabbed my duffel bag and ran out the door. I knew Dean would be out of the shower momentarily and I barely had any time at all. So, I took off running. Once more my body protested. But I ignored it.
To be the perfect hunter, you must be imperious to pain if it does get inflicted on you. So I will ignore the ache of my ribs, the strain of my muscles, the pain in my entire body.
I will ignore it until it leaves. Just as I will ignore my heart, my emotions. A hunter is someone who is strong. Emotions and a heart, they are weaknesses. I will become merciless. I will leave behind my heart of gold. I will leave it with Dean.
But a part of me yearns to have it back. A part of me screams that I am not a hunter, I am a person. But I need to be a hunter. I need to do this. For Dean, for me, for John. So I can kill evil; so I can be good.
So I guess I must get started.
How do you like it? I'm not sure if I really like it... It wasn't as dark as I said it would be... this chapi. But wait for the next one. Full of hate and gore. But don't worry! It's on an evil Hell bitch! Ta ta, c ya!