Rizhae
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Summary
Dean tried to sit up, but only succeeded in straining his muscles against something that was holding him securely in place. He couldn’t even move enough to get any leverage to fight back, or try to squirm free of the grip.
It took his still-sluggish mind another few moments to process that he wasn’t bound by ropes or chains or anything else, but by the same appendages that had grabbed onto him earlier.
He hadn’t panicked when he first woke up, but he was freaking out now, trying in vain to pull free but not even managing to move an inch. He could feel the little bumps- suckers, his brain unwittingly supplied- pressed tight against his skin.
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“Geez, Sammy, don’t you know you’re supposed to be the one giving the girl the hickeys?” Dean asked, eyeing the clear, fresh bruises on Sam’s neck that were barely hidden under the collar of a button-up, conspicuously buttoned all the way up.
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For what's probably not the first and definitely not the last time in his life, Sam is stuck between wakefulness and nightmare, reality and an unreality far worse.
Toxins are being purged from him as he goes through detox, but what's the point of getting rid of the poison when he himself is something evil?
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Senior quotes shouldn't really be important- not to Sam, not when he'll be lucky to be at the same school in a week let alone a few months. But, the idea of finding words to represent who and what he is is more than a little intriguing.
Or, Dean helping Sam figure out his senior quote.
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Summary
A lot of things have changed since July 4, 1996, but the fact that Sam needs Dean and Dean needs Sam is something that will never change.