Hell, the Past, and Sam Winchester
Walking back to his room, the older brother felt drained. He managed to get his door open, entered, reaching for the light, when he stopped. He wasn't alone. Staring into the darkness, he whispered, “Sam?”
A whispered reply of frustration came back to him, “How do you do that, Dean?”
“What? That it was you? It's easy, Sam. 27 years of watching over you. I just know when it's you. Sorry. You asked.”
"Ahh..OK. How're you doing?"
“Talked with L. You want the light, or should we just talk in the dark?”
"Whichever works for you," he answered.
Dean left the overhead off, slowly made his way to the bed and turned on the lamp on the bedside table. Jumping up, he landed on his back on the bed,and carefully rolled over. Reaching the pillows, he arranged himself.
“Care to join me?”
Sam made his way to the bed, settling on the side that his brother wasn't on.
His brother was quiet for a minute, then sighed softly. “L found me pacing in the indoor garden. He's good at what he does, Sam. I ended up talking to him about hell, how I felt about it, and why I felt so guilty.”
He listened quietly. "He is good...brutal at times but good. I owe you an apology for that, Dean. I should've helped you deal instead of nagging and being an ass over it."
“We both had our problems, Sam. I had begun to notice how you felt about me. Little things. It didn't really break til we dealt with the siren. Sam, I couldn't tell you everything. I couldn't. I didn't want any feelings of guilt coming back on you. It was so horrible, I couldn't face even talking about it.”
"I can't say that I understand...but if you do need to, you know I'm here
“I'm not keeping things from you any more, Sam. It's necessary for my health and yours that we're honest with each other. There was a demon there. You met him and you killed him. Alistair.”
Sam nodded. "Not one I will mourn."
“He cut me into pieces, fileted me, and drove meat hooks into me. Sam, he also knew about the men in that bar, and Dad. He did things, okay. I finally couldn't handle the pain with the other. I came down. I enjoyed it so much. All I've ever done is hurt, Sammy. Giving the pain instead of hurting felt good....real good. It was wrong, but I did like it.
He listened in silence, his presence comforting but not judging. He simply was there, letting his brother get everything out that he needed to.
“Alistair told me the day you killed him, that Dad had gone through it too...over a hundred years' worth of torture and he never gave in. I've been dealing with that and that I started all this crap. L showed me things about soldiers and marines from Dad's time. They are desensitized, and dehumanized too.He said I was never like that. I was still human. There was no way I could have done what he did. He trusts me, Sam; even with the boys.”
His voice was soft. "I trust you too, Dean."
“I wasn't sure if you would any more, Sam. I thought I'd have to fight to earn that back.”
"You already have by letting me in."
“I'm trying to, Sam. I honestly am. It's not easy for me. Dad told me a man doesn't cry, he hides his feelings. Hell, I just got good at hiding everything, but I'm trying.”
"And Dad was full of shit."
“Yeah, I'm learning that, but you know how he and I were. At least I think you do. By the time you were old enough notice things beyond your own sphere of influence, you were leaving for college, so I don't really know how much you really do remember. All I know, is everyone who tried to mess me up told me the same thing. He didn't love me. He loved you. I was the one who needed you and Dad, not the other way around. It's hard learning and accepting that, with him at least, it's the truth.”
"He didn't love anyone but himself. I think his fixation on 'protecting Sammy' was more so Mom's sacrifice wasn't in vain."
“Yeah, partially, Sam, but he used to drive by Stanford to keep an eye on you. When you were little, he'd hold you and cuddle you. He quit doing that to me when Mom died. He fought with you because he cared and you were rebelling against him. I never rebelled til that time I backed you. He looked shocked but he damned well didn't care. When Azazel took him, it wasn't you he went after. It was me, and it was more then a demon, Sam. He got into my personal space. Dad was in there. I saw no fight to stop Azazel from using him to kill me. He was only interested in you shooting him to kill Azazel.”
"Dean, he hated both of us. Did you ever think he cuddled me because he felt guilty for his hate towards me? Every time he looked at me, I saw it..that smoldering dislike." The voice was soft.
“You seriously think that, Sam? He wanted the family held together for you, not me. When you left, he was gone. Couldn't stand to have me around. I honestly thought he loved you. I've seen when he looked at you, when you weren't looking. If I'm wrong, then I'm really sorry, Sam, cause I was never there to help you with that.”
"You didn't know. I'd watch him when he'd come in late at night to look at me. He was so angry...he hid it around you. I know he blamed me for her death. If I hadn't been there, she'd be alive and you'd have both of them."
“You were supposed to be born, Sam. You are not at fault. Mom was. She made the deal with Azazel to bring Dad back from the dead. I saw the kiss. She knew him that night. That's why she apologized to you that day at our old house. Sam, she's to blame for all of this. Azazel might never have come after you, if he hadn't had that run in with her. He liked her. Dad never knew she was a hunter. She never prepared him. She should have known. He told her ten years. He just never told her was coming after you. I saw the lights flickering. I know what that means, now. She should've known. It'd been ten years, and she was a hunter. That's a sign, Sam. She ignored it.”
"So we're f*ed up cause we both had parents that started all this shit." He sighed. "Wonderful."
“Yeah, pretty much, but Dad didn't start out that way. Mom really started it. He got screwed up because of her deal, but we wouldn't be here at all if she hadn't. He was dead.”
"You know..glad we have each other to get through this."
“I'm glad we don't hate each other, Sam. For a while there, I thought you did. I am so glad we're not angry and choosing sides any more. I don't want to have to deal with that. I really want to try out being brothers.”
"Same," he smiled at him.
“That's the best news I've heard in a long time, Sam. Why don't we get some sleep. We can see what kind of crap is on for tomorrow.” Dean laid his hand on his brother's shoulder, “Can you get the lamp? Night, Sam.”
He reached over, turning it off. "Sleep well, Dean."
“You, too, Sam.”
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