Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likely_evil) wrote2008-11-25 11:34 pm
likely_evil) wrote2008-11-25 11:34 pm
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badcompany_muse]: Life & Death
ooc: I needed to get this fic out as it was blocking my muse. I blame it on all the death fics that have been circulating in the last 10 days. I also blame it especially on this post by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jstliketherifle and this fic by soldierof_god.
"Sam, come on. You have to hold on. You can't leave us, not now..."
It was a snowy afternoon in Lawrence, Kansas. It had been years since someone had come to visit the Winchester grave site, and yet the youngest and only surviving Winchester had chosen to do so today. The cemetery plot where a headstone had been put for Mary stood up, black marble with names engraved into it. Next to hers was John's name. Both parents burned to ash, a stone memorializing their lives.
Under John's name was the fresher engraved name: DEAN WINCHESTER. 1979 - 2008. His body had also been ashed, Bobby fighting Sam in that choice until the whiskey had dulled Sam enough to realize that Bobby was right.
Three names on the stone, and not a single body occupying the space.
Until now, as Sam laid on the ground, bleeding from his stomach as he tried to breathe. Ruby's back was against the stone, holding Sam's head in her lap. Other demons formed a ring around their boy king, making sure that Lilith's forces didn't make another move.
The snow on the ground was slowly turning red from the blood as Sam struggled. He was laughing, then wincing as his hands covered the open gash. "I don't think... I have much choice here..." he gasped, his body stiffening a moment in pain.
"Damnit, Sam, shut up. We're trying to find an ambulance right now..."
Sam just licked his lips and looked up at her. Ruby was worried... crying. She was crying for him. He had never known Ruby to cry. Ever. He raised a trembling hand to her face, brushing away the tear. She caught his hand and held it close. "I'm not crying for you," she tried to point out. "The bitch threw dust at my face."
Sam just closed his eyes and smiled. She was a bad liar. "Did we...?"
Ruby lowered her head. "No Sam. They got away."
He sighed and dropped his hand. Of course they got away. He had been alone and unprepared. The flowers he had brought for the grave were now crushed and scattered somewhere. Ruby had arrived just as the knife had been plunged into his stomach and ripped across like someone gutting a fish. Other demons appeared seconds later, but the attackers had vanished.
"At least I'm... I'm with my family..." he tried to joke, then winced as another spasm of pain hit him. He turned his head and spit blood onto the ground, then realized he didn't have the strength to move it back.
"Shut up, Sam. You're not joining them today. You're staying here with me." Ruby ran her free hand in his hair. "Don't you stop fighting. You stop fighting and I'm going to march into hell and drag you back so I can kick your ass."
"Ruby... I..." Sam turned back to look up at her, move blood tinting his lips now. "I can't... cold..."
"You're laying on the ground in the snow. That's why you're cold."
There was a rustle of trees and the demons hissed as a new presence made itself known. Ruby lifted her head and her eyes went black as the man made his way through the lower class demons towards them. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come for Sam."
"Over my dead body." Ruby grabbed her knife and held it out while keeping Sam's head close. "Demon or angel, I don't care. He's not going anywhere."
The angel closed his eyes. "Your efforts are wasted, Ruby. Even as we speak, Sam's life is draining. But unless you want him to go to hell, you will give him to me."
Sam's eyes lifted to look at the man near them. "Who are you?"
"I am Castiel. Your mother asked for me to come to you."
"Mom?" Sam's eyes looked hopeful.
"No, Sam, it's a lie," Ruby's hand was shaking though. She knew it was an angel, but she couldn't admit that it was Sam's time.
Castiel gave her a look, but knelt down beside Sam and took his hand. "Yes, Sam. She's worried about you, and wants me bring you home to her. Do you want to go home?"
Sam just closed his eyes. "Yes," he said softly, relaxing in Ruby's arms. Then he stated to shake, his head lulling back.
Eyes widening, Castiel put a hand on Sam's forehead, pushing Ruby aside. "Sam, I need you to listen and answer me. Do you repent your sins and cast the demon blood from your body?" He waited a moment. "Sam, answer me..."
"You're too late, feather brain," Ruby said from where she had landed, watching with dead eyes. "He's gone."
Castiel lowered his head. "I feared I would be. There is nothing I can do for him now."
"There's nothing either of us can do," Ruby pointed out. "Except for salting and burning the body."
~*~
Alastair was waiting eagerly for where the souls were dumped into hell. One of his kids had promised him something special, and Alastair expected it to be good. And the second Sam Winchester's soul appeared on the racks, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. Almost immediately, demons from all over hell swarmed in to try and take a piece off the fallen boy king, but Alastair lifted his hand.
"This one is mine."
He transported Sam to his own racks, and grinned as the soul cried out when the meat hook went into his shoulder. Hazel eyes opened in pained and looked around. Alastair let him try to figure it out a moment, then he came into view. He held a sickle knife in one hand and gently tapped the other with it. "Samuel Winchester, the boy king. We've been waiting a long time for you to join us."
Sam grit his jaw. The pain was horrible. "Who are you?"
"I'm Alastair. And you and I are going to get to know each other so well, for the rest of eternity."
Hell. Sam took a shuddering breath. "Do your worst."
"I was hoping you'd ask." Alastair closed his eyes, and soon a plume of sulfar came to him. Sam watched as the demon reformed into a flesh and body replica of the body that it had once been.
"...Dean?"
The demon turned to look at Sam, black eyes cold and heartless. "Well lookie here. It looks like we have the catch of the day," Dean smirked.
"That we do, Dean. And he's all yours." Alastair gave the knife to Dean and stepped back. "I figure you've suffered enough the past few centuries. Might do you good to have a little bit of fun."
"Dean, please... it's me, Sam..."
"Oh Sam... there's nothing left of your brother here." Alastair walked back as Dean examined his wall of torture devices. "Time goes differently down here. Dean... he's been in hell for almost 700 years now. All because of you. And I have to thank you for damning him, because he's been such a wonderful little demon. So full of hate and anger. The perfect demon. So thank you. Really." He patted Sam on the cheek, then looked over his shoulder at Dean.
"Well, I'll leave you two to get back acquainted with each other. Take your time. After all, we've got an eternity." He laughed, then disappeared.
Dean picked up his favorite knife and held it over the fire a bit until it was nice and red. Sam watched, his eyes wide. "Dean, please, I tried. I tried so hard to save you..."
"Sam, was it?" Dean just smirked as the blade got right where he wanted it to be. "Listen Sammy boy, you're gonna want to save your breath. You're going to need it later when you're screaming my name and begging me to stop."
"Please... just look into my eyes, Dean. You have to remember me."
Sam tried to find something of his brother in the eyes that should have matched his own. But all he saw was blackness.
"Listen, kid, I don't make it my job to remember how special you may think you are." Dean put the point of his knife under Sam's chin, lifting his head. "My job here is plain and simple. Cut, slice, torture and if you scream loud enough for me, I'll let you gather your pieces back together before I start again. Now if you're done, let's get started."
When the knife left, Sam dropped him head a moment. The tiny bit of hope he had in seeing Dean again shattered at his feet. It was like losing his brother all over again. And then Dean started to laugh. "Don't beat yourself up too much, Sammy boy. That's my job."
Sam grit his jaw, then pulled himself up to lay back on the rack. He narrowed his eyes at Dean, sinking back into the numb mindset he had lived the last five years in. This was his fate - to spend eternity in hell, tortured by his own brother that he failed to save. And he would face it, head on.
Dean just started to laugh as he twirled the knife in his hand. "That's my boy. Give me something to fight with. I really hate it when the meat doesn't fight back."
And then all there was was screaming that got lost in the chorus of Hell, and Alastair watching from a distance. And laughing.
1573
jstliketherifle and this fic by soldierof_god."Sam, come on. You have to hold on. You can't leave us, not now..."
It was a snowy afternoon in Lawrence, Kansas. It had been years since someone had come to visit the Winchester grave site, and yet the youngest and only surviving Winchester had chosen to do so today. The cemetery plot where a headstone had been put for Mary stood up, black marble with names engraved into it. Next to hers was John's name. Both parents burned to ash, a stone memorializing their lives.
Under John's name was the fresher engraved name: DEAN WINCHESTER. 1979 - 2008. His body had also been ashed, Bobby fighting Sam in that choice until the whiskey had dulled Sam enough to realize that Bobby was right.
Three names on the stone, and not a single body occupying the space.
Until now, as Sam laid on the ground, bleeding from his stomach as he tried to breathe. Ruby's back was against the stone, holding Sam's head in her lap. Other demons formed a ring around their boy king, making sure that Lilith's forces didn't make another move.
The snow on the ground was slowly turning red from the blood as Sam struggled. He was laughing, then wincing as his hands covered the open gash. "I don't think... I have much choice here..." he gasped, his body stiffening a moment in pain.
"Damnit, Sam, shut up. We're trying to find an ambulance right now..."
Sam just licked his lips and looked up at her. Ruby was worried... crying. She was crying for him. He had never known Ruby to cry. Ever. He raised a trembling hand to her face, brushing away the tear. She caught his hand and held it close. "I'm not crying for you," she tried to point out. "The bitch threw dust at my face."
Sam just closed his eyes and smiled. She was a bad liar. "Did we...?"
Ruby lowered her head. "No Sam. They got away."
He sighed and dropped his hand. Of course they got away. He had been alone and unprepared. The flowers he had brought for the grave were now crushed and scattered somewhere. Ruby had arrived just as the knife had been plunged into his stomach and ripped across like someone gutting a fish. Other demons appeared seconds later, but the attackers had vanished.
"At least I'm... I'm with my family..." he tried to joke, then winced as another spasm of pain hit him. He turned his head and spit blood onto the ground, then realized he didn't have the strength to move it back.
"Shut up, Sam. You're not joining them today. You're staying here with me." Ruby ran her free hand in his hair. "Don't you stop fighting. You stop fighting and I'm going to march into hell and drag you back so I can kick your ass."
"Ruby... I..." Sam turned back to look up at her, move blood tinting his lips now. "I can't... cold..."
"You're laying on the ground in the snow. That's why you're cold."
There was a rustle of trees and the demons hissed as a new presence made itself known. Ruby lifted her head and her eyes went black as the man made his way through the lower class demons towards them. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come for Sam."
"Over my dead body." Ruby grabbed her knife and held it out while keeping Sam's head close. "Demon or angel, I don't care. He's not going anywhere."
The angel closed his eyes. "Your efforts are wasted, Ruby. Even as we speak, Sam's life is draining. But unless you want him to go to hell, you will give him to me."
Sam's eyes lifted to look at the man near them. "Who are you?"
"I am Castiel. Your mother asked for me to come to you."
"Mom?" Sam's eyes looked hopeful.
"No, Sam, it's a lie," Ruby's hand was shaking though. She knew it was an angel, but she couldn't admit that it was Sam's time.
Castiel gave her a look, but knelt down beside Sam and took his hand. "Yes, Sam. She's worried about you, and wants me bring you home to her. Do you want to go home?"
Sam just closed his eyes. "Yes," he said softly, relaxing in Ruby's arms. Then he stated to shake, his head lulling back.
Eyes widening, Castiel put a hand on Sam's forehead, pushing Ruby aside. "Sam, I need you to listen and answer me. Do you repent your sins and cast the demon blood from your body?" He waited a moment. "Sam, answer me..."
"You're too late, feather brain," Ruby said from where she had landed, watching with dead eyes. "He's gone."
Castiel lowered his head. "I feared I would be. There is nothing I can do for him now."
"There's nothing either of us can do," Ruby pointed out. "Except for salting and burning the body."
~*~
Alastair was waiting eagerly for where the souls were dumped into hell. One of his kids had promised him something special, and Alastair expected it to be good. And the second Sam Winchester's soul appeared on the racks, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. Almost immediately, demons from all over hell swarmed in to try and take a piece off the fallen boy king, but Alastair lifted his hand.
"This one is mine."
He transported Sam to his own racks, and grinned as the soul cried out when the meat hook went into his shoulder. Hazel eyes opened in pained and looked around. Alastair let him try to figure it out a moment, then he came into view. He held a sickle knife in one hand and gently tapped the other with it. "Samuel Winchester, the boy king. We've been waiting a long time for you to join us."
Sam grit his jaw. The pain was horrible. "Who are you?"
"I'm Alastair. And you and I are going to get to know each other so well, for the rest of eternity."
Hell. Sam took a shuddering breath. "Do your worst."
"I was hoping you'd ask." Alastair closed his eyes, and soon a plume of sulfar came to him. Sam watched as the demon reformed into a flesh and body replica of the body that it had once been.
"...Dean?"
The demon turned to look at Sam, black eyes cold and heartless. "Well lookie here. It looks like we have the catch of the day," Dean smirked.
"That we do, Dean. And he's all yours." Alastair gave the knife to Dean and stepped back. "I figure you've suffered enough the past few centuries. Might do you good to have a little bit of fun."
"Dean, please... it's me, Sam..."
"Oh Sam... there's nothing left of your brother here." Alastair walked back as Dean examined his wall of torture devices. "Time goes differently down here. Dean... he's been in hell for almost 700 years now. All because of you. And I have to thank you for damning him, because he's been such a wonderful little demon. So full of hate and anger. The perfect demon. So thank you. Really." He patted Sam on the cheek, then looked over his shoulder at Dean.
"Well, I'll leave you two to get back acquainted with each other. Take your time. After all, we've got an eternity." He laughed, then disappeared.
Dean picked up his favorite knife and held it over the fire a bit until it was nice and red. Sam watched, his eyes wide. "Dean, please, I tried. I tried so hard to save you..."
"Sam, was it?" Dean just smirked as the blade got right where he wanted it to be. "Listen Sammy boy, you're gonna want to save your breath. You're going to need it later when you're screaming my name and begging me to stop."
"Please... just look into my eyes, Dean. You have to remember me."
Sam tried to find something of his brother in the eyes that should have matched his own. But all he saw was blackness.
"Listen, kid, I don't make it my job to remember how special you may think you are." Dean put the point of his knife under Sam's chin, lifting his head. "My job here is plain and simple. Cut, slice, torture and if you scream loud enough for me, I'll let you gather your pieces back together before I start again. Now if you're done, let's get started."
When the knife left, Sam dropped him head a moment. The tiny bit of hope he had in seeing Dean again shattered at his feet. It was like losing his brother all over again. And then Dean started to laugh. "Don't beat yourself up too much, Sammy boy. That's my job."
Sam grit his jaw, then pulled himself up to lay back on the rack. He narrowed his eyes at Dean, sinking back into the numb mindset he had lived the last five years in. This was his fate - to spend eternity in hell, tortured by his own brother that he failed to save. And he would face it, head on.
Dean just started to laugh as he twirled the knife in his hand. "That's my boy. Give me something to fight with. I really hate it when the meat doesn't fight back."
And then all there was was screaming that got lost in the chorus of Hell, and Alastair watching from a distance. And laughing.
1573
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