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Sam used to try and believe there was a way to be saved, if not through salvation, then through death. He had counted on Dean for that, hoping that his big brother would see reason in the monster he was becoming and overcome his protectiveness to end the suffering for the greater good, if he even believed in that.
Recent events have made it clear that this just wouldn’t be the case, Sam supposed he couldn’t fault his brother for that, he doesn’t think he would be able to do it either, were the roles reversed.
Still, knowing that he could potentially snap and turn into a vicious killer or whatever else the demon had planned for him scared him more than ever before. He had found a tiny bit of peace in the fact that were he to ever cross the line, he would be killed — he’d deserve it — and it made him feel easier to know that death was a way out of this. Out of this uncertain and frightening destiny the demon had reserved for him.
That didn’t mean the future he personally saw for himself was achievable, if Dean wasn’t going to stop him then he’d just have to stop himself.
He believes this might be better anyways, Dean would finally be able to care for himself instead of watching out for his little brother and Sam would be able to rest easily knowing he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Yes, this was the only possible future, it was necessary.
Dean started worrying about Sam recently, it made Sam uneasy and disrupted the tiny shreds of peace he felt thinking about what he would do. Dean began staying awake at night, watching over him like he did when they were children, he also started being around more often, even more so than before.
Sam hoped it would pass soon, he didn’t like worrying his older brother, it made him feel guilty that his brother was feeling bad because of him. However, he also didn’t know how to make him stop, Sam tried reassuring Dean more — saying he was fine and trying to lighten the mood — but it had only made Dean more tense than before, so he stopped.
It gets a little better for a while, Dean tries his absolute best to make Sam happy like he could sense what was wrong with a sixth sense only big brothers have.
Ultimately though, time goes on and they aren’t perfect. The other shoe had to drop at some point and on this day, it did.
Sam watched as Dean stormed out of their shared hotel room, slamming the door on his way out, the sound made Sam feel like he was being snapped into two like a stick someone stepped on.
They’d had an argument, it had been a big one.
It started when one of their cases was thrown off by some information they had missed, frustration clawed at them both as they retraced their steps from the past few days, hoping that their ignorance hadn’t gotten the family they were supposed to protect killed instead.
It was Sams fault, he’d been getting increasingly more tired recently and had trouble focusing, he’d missed a crucial piece of information when he was reviewing some files, and he hoped to God that it wouldn’t cost an innocent family their lives.
Dean had been furious when he found out, always the good soldier, focused on the job with a precise fashion, it was what the fight had been about. Of course, they’d only let themselves rest long enough to fight after the danger had been dealt with and they got back to their hotel.
He now sat in their shared hotel room, Dean was God knows where, probably heading to a nearby bar to drink and find a pretty woman to ease the anger and disappointment he had felt at his brother’s carelessness.
Sam thinks about his brother’s face as he slumps to the floor, head pounding in his hands. The disappointment on Deans face however, had nothing on the despair and utter disappointment Sam felt.
He couldn’t breathe, how had he missed such an important detail? What if the family today had died and it had all been his fault? He doesn’t think he could’ve handled that, then again, he doesn’t think he can handle any of this anymore either.
Sam stood up then, determined, he couldn’t hurt any more people, not with his carelessness or with whatever plan the demon had for him. It just seemed to be his destiny to cause destruction, to be the reason for other people’s pain.
He had to stop it and there was only one way. Sam started walked towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him, suddenly feeling a lot more at ease. He feels empty but content, he thinks back to his brother’s disappointed face and hopes that this will be enough to make up for all the hurt he’s caused.
He headed for the cabinet where they kept the heavy pain meds for injuries on the job, he took one of the orange bottles out as he started filling up the bathtub.
He figured he should make sure that he didn’t screw this up too, that’s what he was best at after all, it would only postpone the inevitable.
He left the water running as he dug out one of the knives they had stored in the bathroom, he had always enjoyed pain, not in a sexual way but he always thought he deserved the sting that came with it.
He deserves this too, he thinks as he fills up a glass of water, laying down the knife next to the quickly filling bathtub and swallows the pills. After he strips, leaving his boxers and his shirt on as he sinks into the bathtub. The water was cold against his skin, but he didn’t mind.
He sits there for one second or was it two? He thinks it might have been even longer, he isn’t sure anymore. The world was getting blurry around him, then he lifted one of his hands reaching for the knife.
Slowly he brought it down to his wrists cutting down steadily, he realized he was crying, he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t really feel much but the pain from the knife sends jolts of heat down his arms. Distantly he hears someone knocking on the door, but he might be imagining it, he suddenly feels very exhausted as he closes his eyes and gives into the feeling of peace and salvation.
Dean slams the door on his way out, making a swift turn to get to his car. It springs to life as he twists the keys and for a moment, he lets the steady roar of his baby consume him.
Sam and he had a fight, and it ended badly, but he wasn’t mad at Sam, not really. Quite the opposite, he was worried. He had been for a while now as he watched his brother blame himself for things that weren’t his fault and steadily letting it break him. He thought Sam had gotten better but then he had missed information.
Sam never misses information unless he is incredibly off his game for whatever reason, this time the cause being quite obvious. Judging by the bags below his eyes his little brother hadn’t gotten much sleep recently.
Dean sighed loudly as he tried to decide what he should do, he was craving a beer and maybe some company would do him some good and take his mind off the whirlwind that was his little brother.
He drove quietly, deciding against the normally comforting tunes of his choice of music but instead of listening to the engine roar. He got to the road leading up to the bar, a police car stood at the side of the road. Great, it looks like someone had wrecked their car.
He considered going down another road briefly, the cops not being too fond of him and all, but he decided against it. If there were police out, he decided not to push his luck and headed the other way back to Sams and his hotel. He figured he could just head to bed early today and let Sam work on his laptop as he so often did during this time of day.
As Dean pulled into the driveway and turned his engine off, he felt a sense of dread at the conversation his brother would likely want to have. Chick flick moments weren’t really Deans favorite, but he decided to push through it as he made his way towards the door.
He sensed something was wrong immediately the second he opened the door, scanning the room he couldn’t see Sam anywhere, he heard the faucet running meaning his brother was taking a bath, which was weird. Sam was a shower kind of guy. He always disliked bathing for some reason.
The air inside had felt tense as well, which wasn’t all too weird considering they had just fought but Dean felt could feel a sense of dread seeping into his bones.
Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry he knocked on the bathroom door, a few seconds passed, nothing.
Dean knocked again feeling very awake all of a sudden, and again Sam didn’t answer. Every alarm bell rang in Deans head making him feel overwhelmed with the noise, he tried calling out for his brother only to be met with more silence.
Something was wrong, something was very very wrong. Dean didn’t waste any more time as he took a step back shouting for Sam to be careful of the door if he could hear him and then gathered up his strength and pushed.
The door gave away easily and Dean rushed inside the small bathroom.
Dean took in the room, and he felt his knees go weak under him, his heart hammering against his ribcage feeling his knees give out under him. This couldn’t be happening, every instinct in his body screamed and his thoughts repeated the only thing that ever truly mattered to him like a mantra.
It felt like years before he finally ran towards his little brother, God he looked so small, Sammy hadn’t looked this small ever since before he’d shot up in height as a teen.
As he lifted his little brother, his soul, out of the bathtub he shouted Sams name, his little brother didn’t react, and Dean felt tears clouding his vision.
He scrambled towards the cabinets fishing out a clean cloth to cover the bleeding on Sammies wrist, God he was bleeding. No, he couldn’t panic, he had to focus.
He wrapped his wrists up tight stopping the bleeding before he felt his brother go very, very still. No, no this couldn’t be happening.
He reached a hand up to Sammies throat and felt his breath get knocked out from under him. No pulse.
His brain began to shout and scream. He couldn’t stop the tears as he rushed to start resuscitating his brother hoping he wasn’t too late.
Dean didn’t believe in angels, didn’t believe in God like Sammy did but as he tried breathing the life back into his little brother, he found himself begging, praying to whoever was listening.
His little brother had to be okay, he didn’t know how to be if he wasn’t.
It felt like a lifetime and barely a second but suddenly, Sam jerked, Dean felt Sammys heart start beating below his fingertips and he almost passed out from relief, but this wasn’t over yet.
Distantly he remembered seeing the empty pill bottle and he gathered all his willpower and every ounce of strength he had left to haul his brother upright and bring his fingers up to his mouth.
It took a few tries, Sam trying to fend him off weakly, Dean almost rejoiced at his brothers’ movements, but he managed to make Sam throw up.
Sagging back down he managed to breathe for the first time since he had realized his brother wasn’t okay. Sammy had his eyes opened slightly, mouth moving.
Dean was at his side in an instant.
Sam was crying and Dean was breaking, “Don’t cry, hey please don’t cry. You’re okay, you’ll be okay Sammy”
“Dee..I’m srry” Dean felt his heart shatter for the thousand time that day at the childhood nickname.
“No..no listen, you have nothing, and I mean nothing to be sorry for Sammy” Dean held onto Sam as his little brother clutched at his shirt.
“You’re perfect Sammy, you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay” Dean didn’t know if he said it to comfort Sam or himself.
“I’m s’ sorry.. so srry…” Sam looked almost frantic, and Dean felt himself at a loss once again.
“Shhh listen to me baby boy, you’re okay. You have nothing to be sorry for Sammy. Nothing.” Dean hugged his little brother, putting as much weight behind the words as he could.
Slowly, Sam seemed to settle down and Dean felt his little brother sag against him.
Dean figured Sammy must be exhausted as he hauled his little brother up and dragged him towards the bed.
He laid Sam down, as gently as he could and settled in next to him hugging his little brother tight, his hand over the beating of Sammys heart he heard his head go quiet.
The shouting that was the incessant need to protect his little brother died down to a whisper as he listened to his brother’s heartbeat. Beating, alive.