Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likely_evil) wrote2009-02-25 10:54 am
likely_evil) wrote2009-02-25 10:54 am
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50prompts: Life
It was Dean who had noticed it first. How as the mirror showed the gray in Dean's temples, the wrinkles from his eyes getting longer, but Sam didn't. It was like Sam stopped aging right around the time he turned 30.
Sam healed from all his injuries, faster than Dean did. He got stronger as his years went by, while Dean got weaker. Around age 50, it shifted and now it was Sam who protected Dean from life as it marched on.
Then it was the summer when Dean was in his late 60's that it happened. Sam had sat by his brother's side, listening to the raspy breath as his brother fought against another lung infection. Breathing in the smoke from too many burning bodies, they had learned, was worse than any smoker's lungs. Sam held his hand, soothing the other along Dean's mostly gray hair as the breaths came less and less, then stopped completely.
"We fought a good fight," Sam whispered to his brother's body softly. "We saved a lot of people, Dean, and you deserve to rest now." He leaned over and kissed his brother's forehead, then stood up and looked into the doorway where Castiel stood.
"You don't have to fear, Sam," the angel spoke. "For the work he's done, your brother's soul is now in heaven."
"Thank you," Sam said softly. "Have you figured out yet what is happening to me?"
Castiel shook his head. Over the years, the angel had found new vessels, no longer in the one of the holy tax accountant, but now currently in the body of a troubadour. "We have a theory though."
"Better than nothing. What's that?"
"You have the blood of a fallen angel in your. Azazel who has lived since the beginning of time. We feel that perhaps it is that blood which has prolonged yours."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "The demon blood is making me immortal then?"
"Like I said, it is only a theory. But you are in your sixties now, Samuel, and still look like the day I met you. It is your body doing this, not another. It is the only conclusion that we can come up with."
"I see." Sighing, he turned to look at his brother as his body relaxed in death. "Will you see him in heaven?" Sam asked softly.
Castiel was quiet a moment, then tilted his head. "My orders are to remain on earth and observe you, Sam. But if you wish, I will try to find a way to see him."
"Just tell him I miss him," Sam said softly. He worked his jaw a bit before looking at the ceiling. "And maybe one day I'll be allowed to join him."
Saying nothing, Castiel just watched as Sam went back to the bed, gently wrapping Dean in the sheet from the bed, then carrying him outside to the pyre that he had been working on for the last few days when Dean had slipped into unconsciousness for his final time.
Sam hadn't been prepared to be on his own when he had been 25. But that was over 30 years ago now, and this time, Sam was ready. He had to be, especially if what the angels thought was true.
Taking the necklace his brother had worn and putting it around his neck, Sam set fire to the pyre and stepped back to silently watch his brother's body returns to the ashes it had come from.
200 years later
Sam stood looking out the window of the 100 story high-rise building, sipping a cup of coffee in his navy blue suit as he watched the lights of the city start to come up as the sun set. He could feel the metal of the necklace against his skin under the shirts - the leather had been changed out many times now, but the charm still the same.
He had tried to make something of his immortality now, and this company was the first. His firm, a mixture of a lawfirm and police squad. Taking the idea of hunters and making them into a union, protecting them and their families in the iron building while demons were hunted and brought to justice in ways that had not been available back when he and Dean had lived.
Lived Sam's first life, that was. When Dean died, he had changed his name for awhile, continue to travel in the Impala until finally rust and age destroyed the frame. He had a metal sculptor use the car to create the base of this building, a tribute to the home he had then, and the one he had now.
He was considered the grandfather of the modern hunter. The one who knew of the battles against heaven and hell, what the face of true evil was, and how to overcome the darkness in one's own self. He wasn't afraid to be out on the battlefield and help his fellows at a moment's notice, and the respect for him was known across the world.
By both human and demon.
Respect from the demons came from his understanding in how they thought. Knowing the darkness that hell can do to a soul, as he had seen in his brother and Ruby's eyes. How not all monsters are just that... memories of Madison, the shapeshifter from Pennsylvania, the vampire that he had saved from Gordon's knife, and other countless demons helping him overcome the prejudice that his father had instilled in him, or the "racism" as Ruby called it.
Hell would always walk the streets on Earth, but now it wasn't black and white. The shades of gray were recognized and dealt with, and there was becoming peace between the good and evil, instead of eternal war.
And from his penthouse apartment above the city, Sam could close his eyes and feel it all. His powers allowed him to touch the souls of the demons and the humans, and keeping the world a safer place for everyone in it.
"You're doing it again," Ruby said softly as she walked across the room. Like Castiel, she too changed bodies every so often. But as one of the founders of the Winchester Initiative, she only took bodies that the soul had vacated.
"Doing what?" Sam snapped back into reality, turning to look at her with his dull hazel eyes. He still looked thirty, but his true age was visible in his eyes, that were slowly shifting from being hazel to yellow as the centuries passed.
"Thinking about Dean." How she had found the woman that was almost his height this time, he didn't know, but appreciated the fact she could lean her head on his shoulder from behind as her hands wrapped around his waist. "He would be proud of you, Sam, and you know it."
"I know. I just wished he could have lived to see this day too."
"Somewhere, he is."
He turned to smile at her, then his head snapped to the door. A second later, it slammed open as one of the younger hunters rushed in, holding his chest in pain. "Sir, the triad... they've attacked again."
"I'm on it," Ruby stated, already knowing Sam's order as she slipped out the door. She would gather her forces and start a counter assult.
Sam had his jacket off almost immediately, his tie following as he knelt down to examine the hunter's wounds. "Come on, we'll get you to the medical ward."
"But sir, I came to warn you... they have Michael."
Sam stopped a moment, taking a deep breath. Michael was his son, in his twenties now and belonged to him and Ruby. 250 years together, and the angels had granted Ruby to ability to take a body which would allow Sam to have an heir. It was a reward, they claimed. The passing down of an empire to another generation.
Sam snarled, sending the information to Ruby through their telepathic link and comforted her as he felt the hurt spike in her mind before it settled back down into business. Then he did a scan of the area, trying to find the signature that he knew was his son, but it was absent.
"Don't worry, he's a good hunter. He can take care of himself until we find him." So Sam told himself more than the other hunter as he carried the man to the medical ward of the building, then he took off, planning to join his lover in battle and find their son.
He had fought for this future for centuries, for himself, his son, and his long passed brother's memory, and he wasn't about to give up now.
Sam healed from all his injuries, faster than Dean did. He got stronger as his years went by, while Dean got weaker. Around age 50, it shifted and now it was Sam who protected Dean from life as it marched on.
Then it was the summer when Dean was in his late 60's that it happened. Sam had sat by his brother's side, listening to the raspy breath as his brother fought against another lung infection. Breathing in the smoke from too many burning bodies, they had learned, was worse than any smoker's lungs. Sam held his hand, soothing the other along Dean's mostly gray hair as the breaths came less and less, then stopped completely.
"We fought a good fight," Sam whispered to his brother's body softly. "We saved a lot of people, Dean, and you deserve to rest now." He leaned over and kissed his brother's forehead, then stood up and looked into the doorway where Castiel stood.
"You don't have to fear, Sam," the angel spoke. "For the work he's done, your brother's soul is now in heaven."
"Thank you," Sam said softly. "Have you figured out yet what is happening to me?"
Castiel shook his head. Over the years, the angel had found new vessels, no longer in the one of the holy tax accountant, but now currently in the body of a troubadour. "We have a theory though."
"Better than nothing. What's that?"
"You have the blood of a fallen angel in your. Azazel who has lived since the beginning of time. We feel that perhaps it is that blood which has prolonged yours."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "The demon blood is making me immortal then?"
"Like I said, it is only a theory. But you are in your sixties now, Samuel, and still look like the day I met you. It is your body doing this, not another. It is the only conclusion that we can come up with."
"I see." Sighing, he turned to look at his brother as his body relaxed in death. "Will you see him in heaven?" Sam asked softly.
Castiel was quiet a moment, then tilted his head. "My orders are to remain on earth and observe you, Sam. But if you wish, I will try to find a way to see him."
"Just tell him I miss him," Sam said softly. He worked his jaw a bit before looking at the ceiling. "And maybe one day I'll be allowed to join him."
Saying nothing, Castiel just watched as Sam went back to the bed, gently wrapping Dean in the sheet from the bed, then carrying him outside to the pyre that he had been working on for the last few days when Dean had slipped into unconsciousness for his final time.
Sam hadn't been prepared to be on his own when he had been 25. But that was over 30 years ago now, and this time, Sam was ready. He had to be, especially if what the angels thought was true.
Taking the necklace his brother had worn and putting it around his neck, Sam set fire to the pyre and stepped back to silently watch his brother's body returns to the ashes it had come from.
200 years later
Sam stood looking out the window of the 100 story high-rise building, sipping a cup of coffee in his navy blue suit as he watched the lights of the city start to come up as the sun set. He could feel the metal of the necklace against his skin under the shirts - the leather had been changed out many times now, but the charm still the same.
He had tried to make something of his immortality now, and this company was the first. His firm, a mixture of a lawfirm and police squad. Taking the idea of hunters and making them into a union, protecting them and their families in the iron building while demons were hunted and brought to justice in ways that had not been available back when he and Dean had lived.
Lived Sam's first life, that was. When Dean died, he had changed his name for awhile, continue to travel in the Impala until finally rust and age destroyed the frame. He had a metal sculptor use the car to create the base of this building, a tribute to the home he had then, and the one he had now.
He was considered the grandfather of the modern hunter. The one who knew of the battles against heaven and hell, what the face of true evil was, and how to overcome the darkness in one's own self. He wasn't afraid to be out on the battlefield and help his fellows at a moment's notice, and the respect for him was known across the world.
By both human and demon.
Respect from the demons came from his understanding in how they thought. Knowing the darkness that hell can do to a soul, as he had seen in his brother and Ruby's eyes. How not all monsters are just that... memories of Madison, the shapeshifter from Pennsylvania, the vampire that he had saved from Gordon's knife, and other countless demons helping him overcome the prejudice that his father had instilled in him, or the "racism" as Ruby called it.
Hell would always walk the streets on Earth, but now it wasn't black and white. The shades of gray were recognized and dealt with, and there was becoming peace between the good and evil, instead of eternal war.
And from his penthouse apartment above the city, Sam could close his eyes and feel it all. His powers allowed him to touch the souls of the demons and the humans, and keeping the world a safer place for everyone in it.
"You're doing it again," Ruby said softly as she walked across the room. Like Castiel, she too changed bodies every so often. But as one of the founders of the Winchester Initiative, she only took bodies that the soul had vacated.
"Doing what?" Sam snapped back into reality, turning to look at her with his dull hazel eyes. He still looked thirty, but his true age was visible in his eyes, that were slowly shifting from being hazel to yellow as the centuries passed.
"Thinking about Dean." How she had found the woman that was almost his height this time, he didn't know, but appreciated the fact she could lean her head on his shoulder from behind as her hands wrapped around his waist. "He would be proud of you, Sam, and you know it."
"I know. I just wished he could have lived to see this day too."
"Somewhere, he is."
He turned to smile at her, then his head snapped to the door. A second later, it slammed open as one of the younger hunters rushed in, holding his chest in pain. "Sir, the triad... they've attacked again."
"I'm on it," Ruby stated, already knowing Sam's order as she slipped out the door. She would gather her forces and start a counter assult.
Sam had his jacket off almost immediately, his tie following as he knelt down to examine the hunter's wounds. "Come on, we'll get you to the medical ward."
"But sir, I came to warn you... they have Michael."
Sam stopped a moment, taking a deep breath. Michael was his son, in his twenties now and belonged to him and Ruby. 250 years together, and the angels had granted Ruby to ability to take a body which would allow Sam to have an heir. It was a reward, they claimed. The passing down of an empire to another generation.
Sam snarled, sending the information to Ruby through their telepathic link and comforted her as he felt the hurt spike in her mind before it settled back down into business. Then he did a scan of the area, trying to find the signature that he knew was his son, but it was absent.
"Don't worry, he's a good hunter. He can take care of himself until we find him." So Sam told himself more than the other hunter as he carried the man to the medical ward of the building, then he took off, planning to join his lover in battle and find their son.
He had fought for this future for centuries, for himself, his son, and his long passed brother's memory, and he wasn't about to give up now.