Hey all! So here's another story! I hope you all enjoy it. :)
I don't think there are any real warnings for this story. Violence in later chapters. Absolute misery in this chapter. John sucks in this story, completely and totally.
Sam is about 17 years old in this.
Please review! :)
From a young age, Sam had never understood how you could feel alone in a room full of people.
He was never alone.
Dean was always by his side when he wasn't at school. When he was at school, there were hundreds of people around him.
Sometimes his dad was there too.
Yet...there was more to loneliness than the physical aspect of being alone.
Sam might not know physical loneliness, but emotionally? Mentally?
He had always been alone.
Something set him apart from others, always.
His "friends" (always temporary, always fake) at school would never understand why he was solemn, why he had such strict rules. They would never understand what he had seen. The monsters he had faced. The true evil he had been forced to accept the existence of and battle. The agony he had felt.
They never truly understood what it was like to keep a secret.
He didn't know what it was like not to live a lie.
His family would never understand him. He wanted normal. He wanted peace and safety. He was so exhausted. He was tired of being afraid. He was tired of living this lie. They didn't understand that hunting was killing him. Some deep part of him would never be the same, could never be the same.
Hunting would kill him someday, he knew, but what was worse? It could kill his dad. It could kill Dean. And then he'd be physically alone too.
They had never truly understood what it was like to live with fear constantly, yet not relish the hunt, not relish the chance to reliquish that fear by proving your prowess, proving that you are stronger than the monster you face.
Sam didn't understand how to face that monster without eventually becoming one himself.
He just wanted his family.
Not a military unit, a family.
He wanted his dad to be a father to them, not a commander. He wanted his brother to make his own choices, to be happy and safe.
He didn't want to have to be afraid of losing them.
He didn't want to lose himself to the hunt.
He didn't want to be alone.
He could only hope it wasn't all some crazy dream.
He wasn't sure what he would be without that dream.
And of course, because fate apparently hated Sam Winchester, he also had to be afflicted with a taller, faster, stronger older brother who also happened to be his father's favorite and Mary Poppin perfect.
As if that wasn't enough, there was also bullies at school who tormented him daily for being clumsy (injured, but they can't know that can they?), for being short, for being different, for being poor, for freaking breathing.
Sam was pretty sure he couldn't hate his life more.
Sam was a natural optimist. Despite his loneliness, despite his fear, he still believed that things had to be okay. He had to believe that something was looking out for them, that some higher power was guiding the Winchester family.
He had to believe that their was some way to escape this life without alienating his family.
He didn't want to choose between his own sanity, his own happiness, and his family.
He wasn't sure what he would choose if it came down to that.
He wasn't sure he could live this life much longer.
He was a man of faith. He had been for years. There was a reason he had gotten along so well with Pastor Jim. There was a reason he had enjoyed every moment spent in the pastor's company.
Pastor Jim offered something Sam needed.
Something to believe in.
An explanation, something to put his faith in.
The opportunity to believe that he was never alone, because Pastor Jim taught that God was always looking out for them.
And when his family wasn't around?
Pastor Jim told Sam that angels were looking out for him.
Sam had to believe that he wasn't alone.
If that was taken away from him?
There would be no turning back.
There would be no Sam Winchester anymore.
Just an empty shell with a gun and a mission.