Rougher Than Before
Epilogue
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Fuck.
Fuck! Fuck!!!
It’s
an endless repetition in Dean’s mind. It takes all his will to concentrate on
driving and not screaming out loud.
Fuck.
Why Sammy, why did you... FUCK.
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>The worst of it?
color:purple;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> It’s a dream come true. FUCK.
color:purple;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> Dean slams his fist against the steering
wheel.
The
yellow-eyed demon haunting him, taunting him, and he did everything he could,
gave up himself in the process to save Sammy and ended up worse off than
before.
He
should explain Sam the why’s and how’s.
He
shouldn’t leave Sam thinking Dean hated him just because Sam loved him more
than he should. Way to go beyond the brotherly emotion of sympathy. And in the
end, he’d initiated it all. He’d been on his knees, blowing Sam before he even
knew what was going on at all.
FUCK.
color:purple;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Sam’d
been so miserable, destroyed and confused. He was still Sam’s big brother, he
should at least...
The
YED had been after Dean, had tried to make him get Sam back into hunting. The
YED was after Sam and he should be warned, he should
know that even in his normal life, he would need protection; he would need to
be alert.
The
Impala screeches when he spins her 180 degrees and steps on the gas.
He’ll
warn Sam and then drive off. Leave him to his life.
He
pulls the Impala back into Sam’s street, fishtailing.
When
he sees the smoke, Dean knows. It’s too late for a warning. Maybe it’s too late
for everything.
He
gets out of the Impala before it even stops and runs into the building. The
smoke chokes him and his fear takes his breath away. His heart pounds like he’s
four years old again, and the fumes make his eyes tear up and moisture runs
down his cheeks.
He
kicks in the door to the apartment and finds Sam unmoving on the bed, Jess
above him, burning.
The
feeling of déjà-vu makes his stomach twist.
Sam
doesn’t fight, doesn’t help when he drags him outside. Firemen are trying to
take Sammy away from him, but he holds on. Sam’s okay, not
hurt so far as he can see, just in shock.
“Sam.
Sam, can you hear me?” Dean shouts at Sam, whom he’d settled against the
Impala’s side. The asphalt is hard under Dean’s knees. Finally, Sam’s gaze
focuses on Dean’s face; Sam’s eyes find Dean’s gaze and lock onto it.
“You
came back,” Sam whispers, and there is so much hope in his expression, Dean
thinks it’s ridiculous considering Sam’s girlfriend just burned to death on the
ceiling. Like Mom.
“I
came back,” Dean states.
“I’m
glad you came back,” Sam says and then he’s crying, and Dean holds him. He
tries to make out the words between the broken sobs despite “sorry” and “Dean”
and “Jess” over and over again - but he doesn't understand.
An
eternity later, he settles Sam inside the Impala’s passenger seat and goes to
get a blanket out of the trunk, when a fireman approaches him.
“Hello
Dean, my boy.” Yellow eyes fix on Dean’s out of the meatsuit.
Middle-aged guy, fit and energetic-looking.
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>“You bastard!”style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> Dean spits, heart hammering.
“Nah,
nah. Don’t be like that, boy.” The demon waves him off, comes closer. Dean
doesn’t move. “I should have thought of that,” The YED points with his thumb
over his shoulder at the still-burning building, “way sooner.”
Dean
clenches his yaw. The close proximitity of this demon
is frightening, but he refuses to back down.
“Revenge
is the most powerful force to drive a man. And with Sammy’s heritage, the apple
does not fall far from the tree, right?” The demon smiles, lips pulling too
wide, white teeth showing. “I just wonder... why aren’t you all
Dean
ignores the words, tries to concentrate on his options, tries
to choose the right way to handle this situation.
“After
all this time we spend together, Dean. I thought you understood that eventually
I will suceed.”
“You
don’t get him. I’ll do everything to make that not happen. I’ll die before-”
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>“Sure, sure.style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> See, that actually is your problem.” The yellow-eyed Demon bows forward so
Dean’s nose is almost touching its. “Make Sammy strong, Dean. One day
him; one day, he’s going to need to fight for himself all alone. He needs to be
strong and clever and learn all the tricks. You know that, right?”
What
choice did he have? To not train Sam?
against the Evil at the horizon?
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'> Bitter with the thought that the yellow-eyed demon
would get his way – for now –
Dean shoves at the fireman.
The
demon grins. “I’m very proud of you, Dean, for seeing reason.” He starts
laughing and throws his head back. Black smoke shoots towards the sky and
mingles with the fumes still emanating from Sam’s apartment building.
His
cell rings and the sound pulls him back into reality.
“Hey, Pastor Jim,” he greets him without enthusiasm and then listens to what he
has to say. After the call ends, Dean gets back in the car and Sam looks at him
with wide eyes, childlike, waiting.
“Looks
like Dad is on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in
a few days.”
Sam
too. Machine answered.” He whispers, it probably hurts his throat to
speak after screaming, crying and all that smoke.
“Jim
said it was in
Sam
doesn't react at all.
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Dad or Sam?style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Sam or Dad?style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>Family or hunting or family
color:purple;mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>and
hunting?
Dean
turns the key in the ignition and the Impala hums to life. With lots of effort,
Dean puts his hand onto Sam’s thigh, squeezes. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry.”
style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>For everything.style='font-size:9.5pt;line-height:130%;font-family:Verdana;color:purple;
mso-ansi-language:EN-GB'>
Sam
only stares at Dean’s hand as if it was alien.
Steering
the Impala with just one hand is crap, but Dean refuses to let go of his
brother Sam.