Sam gets a little lost, someplace only Dean can find him.
Bookmarked by ravenonawire
23 Sep 2021
Dean's close to tears. He doesn't know when that happened. But Sam's listening to him, now, intent on his every word, and Dean has nothing left to give him but the truth. "I think, if I had to do it all over again, I would. Because I'm no good without you, Sammy. That's the truth. I tried. I tried every way I know how, and I don't ever want to do it again. And I'm scared of what that could mean. If there's some other price you're gonna have to pay because I never know how to let you go, man. I never did."
After Sam’s torture at the hands of the British Men of Letters, the latest in a long string of violations, he is rescued by Dean and Mary – and forced to ponder his broken relationship with his own body. Months later, when Sam is resurrected and tormented by Lucifer yet again, Dean confronts Mary and Sam gets his revenge against the devil.
Bookmarked by ravenonawire
09 Sep 2021
Sam collapses to the ground a few feet from the driver’s side of the Impala. Before he can even think, before he even knows that his legs have moved, Dean is kneeling down on the gravel road, right there with him. Like a dark dance, a story with no happy ending, the pair of them always fall together.
“You’re alive. I can’t – I thought you were – ”
Before he can finish the sentence, a sort of panic sets into Sam’s face as he looks at Dean, then at Mary and Cas over by the Impala, then Dean again, pushing him away in confusion. “Dean, is this real? This is real, right?”
Dean’s heart sinks—he never wanted to hear Sam say those words again, not since his soul had come back so damaged from Hell all those years ago, when his mind had broken. He wonders what has brought this on: exhaustion, the sheer weirdness of seeing his dead mom walking and talking, or was something more nefarious done to him in there? He presses his thumb into Sam’s palm so gently he can’t be sure that Sam even felt it. There is no scar there, hasn’t been for a few years now. It makes Dean feel better all the same.
“It’s real, Sammy, it’s me. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”
“Okay,” Sam says immediately, and the sweetness of that little-brother faith will never not make Dean smile.
he is smiling at Dean like he has never seen him before. “Dean, I’m so glad you’re alive.”
To be loved by Sam is the warmest feeling Dean has ever known.
He sees what it looks like, with him kneeling at Sam’s feet – how devotional a picture it paints, to an outsider. To someone who has not seen their life. He had tried to explain it to her, on the way over here: how they had, in the absence of anything else to hold on to, become each other’s entire worlds – but he guesses now that it must be something that needs to be seen to be understood. He knows that he is worth more to the world than just being somebody else’s brother, he knows that now; but this, he thinks – caring for Sam, the tenderness and the veneration with which he sits here cleaning away the dark red blood dripping sickly from his wounds – this gentle, willing sacrifice is the only thing that has ever made him special, made him holy, in the way that saints and myths are.
After Gadreel, Sam had been kept up at night not only by nightmares, but by the fear of sleeping itself. A fear of losing time to unconsciousness, a fear of not returning from the pool of blackness once he succumbs. And if he doesn’t return? His hands are not his own: something else will be there behind his face, and it will do things in his name, and he will scream and scream and tear his body to pieces from the inside out to make it stop. He had feverishly searched for an anti-possession symbol that would work on angels, but to no avail. He’s still searching.
Sam doesn't bother explaining, just tips his chin to let Dean see the livid bruising where the witch's doll strangled him.
Dean hisses. "Jesus, Sam." Callused fingertips run down his neck, lingering over the mottled marks and exerting just the tiniest, fluttering bit of pressure before returning to the wheel. When Sam glances over, his brother is staring at the road again, too intent to be casual. "I guess I know why you didn't mention it, but... man, you gotta let me know if you're really hurting. There's a line when it comes to this kind of thing. A little sore throat is on the sure, okay side of the line, and my-throat-is-swelling-closed-'cause-I-got-freakin'-strangled-nearly-to-death is on the tell me right the hell away side."
In other words... Placed after the end of 12.20, when Sam doesn't wake up to Dean frantically calling his name. Sam isn't okay, Dean isn't okay, and there's a laundry list a mile long of reasons why. Sam talks. Dean listens. Actual meaningful conversation happens. Sam might sleep in Dean's bed. There was too much pain and too little casual affection and care this episode, honestly. Needless to say, spoilers abound. Proceed with caution.
Bookmarked by ravenonawire
09 Sep 2021
Sometimes hunting just feels like a rumination on the art of goodbyes. In any case, Sam has gotten damn good at them. Sometimes it’s all he can do not to call all the numbers in his phone until he hears a hello on the other end.
“See,” Dean finally says. “I had a lot of time to think on the way back, and I can’t remember more than a handful of times—like actually less than five—that you’ve actually finished something you started, if you ordered something at all. Like, even that egg-white-abomination—“
“You ate the whole thing.”
“Food is food is food, Sam! Not the point. I just realized that was one of the first times I’ve seen you actually order something without someone reminding you to, and—anyway. Pancakes? You’re frickin’ huge, man. You’ve gotta eat more. I’m worried about you.”
Halfway gone, Sam rolls in the direction of Dean’s voice and sits up, knocking back the pills without opening his eyes. He almost thinks he lets his control on his tongue slip, almost thinks he whispers, “Stay.” But he’s already most of the way into a cozy dream; he won’t remember saying it when he wakes up.
He won’t remember Dean ruffling Sam’s hair and pulling up a chair beside him. Dean won’t make any grand promises that they’ll fix things. They don’t always, and after so long, those promises ring false. Instead, Dean says, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Sam manages to break Dean's deal and save him from Hell...at a cost. With no voice, he doesn't know if he can hunt anymore, but he gave his voice up for his brother and he'd do it again. No matter what that means for him.
Fortunately, he's not the only one willing to do whatever it takes to stay by his brother's side.
Bookmarked by ravenonawire
08 Sep 2021
1. Sam Winchester was no coward. He had never turned from a fight, had never fled in fear. He’d always fought with every weapon he had, from his hands to his brain. When he faced Dean’s year-long death sentence of a deal, he attacked it as savagely as anything else that threatened his brother. As the day of damnation drew nearer, he scoured source after source, desperately seeking something, anything, that would clear Dean’s name.
So when the day finally dawned, as gray and bleak as it deserved to be, Sam did the only thing he could.
He grabbed his brother and ran.
2. “You gave your voice, your ability to talk, the thing you consider most valuable, and you gave it away because of me.”
Sam shook his head and grabbed a piece of paper. Not the most valuable thing.
. “Not being able to talk, that’s a big deal. You might not talk just to hear yourself talk, but being able to talk is a huge part of who you are. And it’s gone now.”
Sam shook his head and pointed at the line he’d written again. Then he set it down and dared to place his hand above Dean’s heart. The beating heart that was feeding oxygen to his cells and giving him breath and life.
His voice wasn’t the most valuable thing in the world. Not by a long shot.
It took Dean a moment to figure it out, but when he did, his face crumpled. He leaned back, away from Sam’s hand, but raised his right hand in a fist. When Sam frowned, confused, he put the fist on his chest and moved it around in a clockwise circle. I’m sorry.
Sam caught sight of the books on the table seconds before he lunged for his brother, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Hands came up to clutch at him, holding on just as hard. Sam felt his eyes fill with tears because he had a brother, one who was still pissed off at him for making a deal, who was willing to learn sign language after he’d gotten in at whatever time he’d come back. He had a big brother. He wasn’t alone.
They’d make this work. Like they always did.
5. Dean pushed himself away from the chair, but paused all the same. “Do you want out?” he asked seriously. “Because I swear to god Sam, if you’re ready to be done, I will go, and I’ll do it gladly. I’ll stay in if you want to stay in too, but I’m going where you’re going.”
They were the words that Sam had silently begged for all those years ago when he’d left for Stanford, words he’d tried to tug from Dean at various points since his future had burned with Jess. They still felt like a balm on his soul, his big brother ready to drop it all and leave it behind to stay with him.
7.My very first memory is you, holding out the marshmallows from Lucky Charms in an attempt to get me to follow you to the bedroom so we could sit and play. I didn’t know until years later that Dad had been out, hunting a shifter, and he’d been worried that it had tailed him back to the apartment we were renting. You’d kept me away from the windows and doors; you’d kept me safe, even when you were barely more than seven.
. You kept me sane that summer. You’re about the only thing that really keeps me sane now.
Sam brought his hands up. Where you go, I go. If we’re done, then we’re done. They’d danced around it enough, gone in and back out again. The last few times had been Dean wanting to keep going and Sam heading back in with him. The last time, after the wendigo, had been Dean ready to quit but Sam determined to keep it up.
Maybe this time, they were both ready to be done.
Dean swallowed hard. “I can’t keep losing you,” he said, the first words to Sam in days. “I just can’t.”
The paper airplane sat just within reach. Sam pulled it out and offered it to Dean again. A barn to hide the Impala in, as well as hide their weapons. A house for two of them to ward up and keep them safe. There were plenty of places like that for sale in the country. They could make it work.
Dean slowly nodded, then gave a quick smile. “Yeah. Yeah, Sammy.”
8. They were nothing close to cowards. They were determined to stand together, fight beside each other, hunt together. They’d learned how to communicate through silence, they were better than ever.
Yet when the day dawned with a blood-red sun, and Ruby’s text simply said, Run, they did the most courageous thing they could’ve done.
They took their bags, they locked everything up, and they grabbed hold of each other and ran. This time, however, Sam wasn’t so sure they’d be so lucky as he’d been the first time.
10. In the end, however, his answer stayed fairly the same. “I go where you go,” he said simply to Dean. Dean blinked, and Sam signed the word for best friend with Dean’s name. In it to the end. And if that meant abandoning a degree, again, and leaving the house they’d found and the jobs they’d taken to go with Dean and hunt, then he’d be packed by the end of the day.
An AU where Sam was in the Cage with Lucifer for a couple of weeks before Dean and Cas could get in.
On a hunt after Sam's second time with Lucifer, he's trying to maintain. Dean is still the guy who thinks of killing things and saving people as 'Sam's new rule' and Sam recognizes that as signs of Dean not being okay.
When push comes to shove, the brothers do their best to catch each other when they fall.
Bookmarked by ravenonawire
06 Sep 2021