Pairing: Sam, Dean
Word Count: ~1,700 words
Disclaim: Nope, don't own them. The Winchester boys belong to Kripke, his writers, and CW. But if I do, surely I'd make Dean my personal... uhm, découpage?
Summary: a little coda for 4.21 When the Levee Breaks...
"He's pathetic! Look at him. I can wring his little neck with my bare hands." Sam felt blood rushing to his head, the sound roaring in his ears.
He leaned further down, throwing his weight into it. "Why can't he just listen to me for once!" He tightened his grip.
"Who does he think he is, calling me a monster, locking me up like a caged animal in that room.” Sam's face twisted into a sneer. "He thinks he's so special, with those Angels on his shoulder. But what do they know? Can't they see he is weak? It is me who has a destiny to fulfill. I'm the stronger one here. I've got what it takes. I'm the chosen one!"
Sam sucked in a gulp of air. It tasted bitter on his tongue. Anger unfurled like a beast inside him. His iron fingers curled further around the pale throat of the man beneath him, viselike, unforgiving, cutting off the air supply.
The man under him didn't even writhe. He simply rolled his eyes into the back of his head.
Unexpectedly, an image of another time, another place assaulted Sam: in front of him was his brother lying motionless on the floor, face bloodied, a ring of bruise roped around his neck.
All of a sudden, Sam felt panic rising from the pit of his stomach, spreading to his limbs, overpowering the hatred that was raging a moment ago.
Chest heaving, Sam hastily withdrew his hands and stood up. Looking down at Dean gasping desperately at his feet, Sam spat out: "You don't know me. You never did, and you never will!"
Dean's raspy voice cracked in Sam's ears: "If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back!"
The sense of familiarity hung in the air. Sam flinched as his hand yanked the door open. He took one last look at the figure on the floor, letting out the breath he didn't know he was holding, and stepped through the threshold.
Dean's whole body quaked. His eyes stung with the tears caught behind the closed lids. "What have I done?! How did I fail so spectacularly?" Dean leaned on his side, trying to curl in on himself. The broken shards crunched underneath him. He wanted to smack something, but a sharp pain shot through his shoulder.
He flopped back on his back, the room disturbingly quiet after the stormy fight. Around him, everything was broken.
"He left again, abandoning me behind." Dean knew he should get up and leave too. There's nothing for him here now that Sam's gone. But somehow, he couldn't muster enough energy to move.
So he just lay there, letting silent sob wreck his chest.
Jumbled thoughts raced through his mind. His head throbbed, pulsating at the spot where it connected with the inopportune mirror. Dean knew something other than the glass cracked as well.
"Thought he wanted us to be brothers..."
"...it was just Dad..."
"He would never walk out on me if he had a choice..."
"But he did... He walked out once before..."
"And he's doing it again. He left me for her!"
If that her had been another sweet girl like Jessica, maybe Dean would not have been so crushed. But she's a Demon of all things, and Sam went with her without a backward glance.
Dean felt utterly defeated, like never before.
By the time Sam reached the parking lot, Ruby was already waiting for him in the driver's seat of her car. Sam scooted in from the passenger side on autopilot, slamming the door shut behind him.
She refrained from speaking, and stepped on the gas pedal instead. The car screeched and zoomed away from the hotel like a bullet, spilling into the street, effectively leaving the honeymoon suite behind them in the distance.
But Sam's mind lingered in that room.
The buzz in his head quieted down a bit, allowing his mind's eye train on the recumbent figure in the middle of the debris littered floor.
"What have I done? How could I put my hands on Dean?!" Sam recoiled soundlessly.
His vision clouded by the red splotch in front of him. He wished it were only paint. But he knew it was fresh blood trickling down his brother's nose, smearing the ghostly pale skin. That's it, red on white. He wondered why he wasn't seeing the familiar flash of green. Then he realized his brother's eyes were closed.
Sam winced. He was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to check on Dean. Horrified by his own deed, he itched to put his hands on his brother, this time seeking reassurance. He wanted to wrap his strong arms around Dean, and pick him up off the floor.
The car rolled into a stop at the traffic light. Sam jerked into motion. He opened the car door on his side without giving another thought, and leaped out.
"Sam!" Ruby yelled after him.
But Sam paid her no heed. He was on the street in a flash. Among the cacophony of blaring car horns and Ruby's string of curses, he took off running in the opposite direction.
Dean didn't know what roused him, or how much time had passed. He opened his eyes, and saw a blurry figure looming over him.
His heart fluttered. Thinking Sam had come back, hope rose like a phoenix out from the ashes. Seconds later however, sense returned too, knowing the intruder is too short to be his giant of a brother.
Dean blinked several times, clearing the cobweb from his head. His vision finally returned, and the figure in front of him sharpened into focus, revealing a rather tall and attractive young woman dressed in maid's uniform.
"Damn!" He muttered under his breath, and struggled to get back on his feet. Dean really was in no mood to square things away with the hotel staff.
In his haste, he almost missed the soft but chilling chuckle.
"Well, well, well. Look at you Dean. All alone again." She taunted.
Dean froze at the sound. He stared stonily at the maid. She smirked back at him condescendingly, and rolled her eyes. They were filled with nothing but impenetrable blackness.
"Bitch!" Dean snarled.
"Watch your tongue with me, boy!" She scolded. "Think you are so mighty, didn't ya. But you are no match for her!"
"Eh?" Dean's brow went up. "Your faith in Lilith is touching. But I'll stop her one way or another!" He promised. Dean really didn't appreciate his brother's sentiment repeated by the Demon bitch.
The corner of the possessed girl's mouth curled up, like she alone was in on some secret. But she said nothing further. Instead, she raised her left arm, her hand outstretched in the front. Before Dean had a chance to react, he was flung backward through the broken partition, back towards where the bed was.
He landed hard on the mattress, flattened and pinned against it.
"Look at you sprawled so prettily there." The Demon clicked her tongue.
"You really should've stayed in Hell Dean," she strode toward the bed. "Now it's time for you to go back."
She lurched at him, grabbing for his neck. The cold slender fingers encircled the already abused column. Her strength was inhumanly strong.
Dean wheezed under the unrelenting pressure. He was really tired of this shit. His hands flailed, trying to find purchase. Instead, they found the knife Sam tossed earlier.
Basked in her impending success, the Demon failed to notice Dean as a potential threat. Dean took advantage of his opponent’s over confidence. Weakened as he was by the multiple assaults on his body, Dean nonetheless was not helpless. He gathered all his remaining strength in his right arm; the knife clenched tightly in his hand, and launched his counter strike.
He swung his arm in an upward arc, aiming for the Demon’s left side. The tip of the knife came down hard into the girl’s chest. Ruby’s little tool may not be able to inflict much damage on Alistair, but it worked easily against a third or fourth classed Demon like the one in front of him.
The knife plunged deep into the woman’s heart, a look of surprise frozen on her face. Dean shoved her away from him and withdrew the knife. She pitched backward, sunk to the floor as if in slow motion. The Demon long since dead before the body even hit the ground, taking the innocent girl it possessed along with it.
Dean’s chest rumbled as he sputtered a streak of hacking coughs. He felt a fireball lodged in his throat, making breathing difficult. Dean struggled to get back on his feet for the second time in less than an hour. He knew he needed to get away from the place ASAP if he doesn’t want to be charged with murder.
Ignoring the aches from all over, Dean forced his body into action.
Sam’s long legs carried him several blocks back to the hotel. He ran like the hell hounds were after him. He's thankful it was in the middle of the night, so he didn’t have to dodge many pedestrians on the sidewalk.
But the stumbling figure of his brother in front of the hotel halted him into a sudden standstill. The place where Sam stood happened to be an area where light don’t reach. In contrast, Dean was basked in the bright lights from the parking lot, his battered form clearly illuminated.
Even from a distance, Sam could see the mottled bruises lined along Dean’s neck. The now dried bloodstains startling against his washed out face. Sam sucked in a quivering breath, sickened by the visible evidence of what he had done to his brother.
Dean was not all too steady on his feet. But he reached the safety of his Impala nevertheless.
Instinctively, Sam wanted to run to Dean. However he forced himself to stand rooted on the spot instead. His mind rationalized he needed to stay away from his brother. Dean is not safe around him anymore. Sam would only hurt him further.
With a heavy heart, Sam saw the Impala pulled out of the parking lot. "It's for the best," he tried to convince himself.
"Be safe and be well Dean," Sam prayed.
"Hope one day you’d let go of the memory of a brother you didn’t have."