Giving Blood, Keeping Faith | By : roguebitch Category: Supernatural > General Views: 732 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A companion piece to “And Now I Am Returned To The World”. Dean’s POV during crucial events in AHBL 1/2.
A/N: Title comes from the song “The Patient” by Tool. Also, I lifted the monologue from AHBL 2.
*****
You keep vigil by the bedside, refusing to admit that it isn’t a sickbed; it is in fact a funeral bier.
You lash yourself with words, scoring your soul with multiple weals. You apologize uselessly to your brother.
I always tried to protect you. Keep you safe. Dad didn’t even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, y’know? It’s like I had one job. That one job. And I screwed it up. I blew it. And for that I’m sorry. I guess that’s what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now, I guess I’m just supposed to let you down, too? How can I? How’m I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do?
You are the big brother and you should be able to fix this. You should never have let this happen.
Your rage and grief are so large that it feels like they are bursting from your skin, exploding out of you. You kick the chair you were sitting in across the room and start pacing.
You circle the abyss inside yourself, searching for an answer. You see a lifetime of failure, spent alone, disconnected.
You look into the abyss.
The abyss looks into you.
A terrible solution occurs to you. The price, to you, is negligible. You are just a tiny little piece in the much bigger hunting machine. You are so very replaceable.
But Sammy, Sam, your little brother, is precious beyond the telling of it. Gifted and bright and infinitely innocent, to be cherished and nurtured and protected. He is smart, smarter than you are, and could actually make a difference in the larger world.
You get into your car and are momentarily comforted by the way the Impala cradles you as you rocket towards the nearest crossroads.
You find a metal box in the trunk and frantically fill it with everything you need to broker a deal. You bury it at the crossroads.
Time moves too slowly and you shout at the night, willing the demon to appear, which of course she does.
You offer. She counters. You dicker.
You get Sam back. You get a year.
You get a year. You think that’s fair.
You kiss the demon, the taste of her like sulphur and ashes in your mouth.
You drive recklessly back to the desolate little town, risking the Impala, wanting to see the evidence of the deal with your own eyes. Demons lie, after all.
When you enter the sad little building where you left him, you see him reflected in a mirror, twisted around to look at his back. You barrel into him, overjoyed to feel his living warmth solid in your arms again. Sam. Your Sammy.
You hear his pained laugh and stare into his face as he pulls away and asks you what happened to him.
You lie to him as easily as breathing, lie straight-faced, willing him with your eyes and heart to not dig any deeper. You protect him with this lie from the awful knowledge of what happened to him, what you did to bring him back.
You tell him how hurt he was and watch his expression grow quizzical. You’re pretty sure he knows you aren’t telling the truth. You’re relieved when he doesn’t pursue it. You are further relieved when he accepts your offer of food.
You are full of a fierce joy as you bring your brother food and watch him eat.
You question him about his abduction to the town and the kid who stabbed him. He answers you carefully, obviously not telling you everything.
This is fine with you for now. There are too many things that need your more immediate attention, now that Sam is back.
You convene at Bobby’s. His expression of vast sympathy undergoes a speedy metamorphosis to superstitious unease when he sees Sam upright and breathing. You are practically dragged into the junkyard by your collar as Bobby rails at you, knowing full well what you’ve done. You just don’t care. Your death has always been a given. Technically, you’ve already died twice.
That you have some sort of definite expiration date is more comfort than you can express.
Sam’s death was more reality than you could face and also wrong in ways that you can never confess to anyone.
Bobby has more on his mind than Sam’s resurrection, and then Ellen shows up alive, so he leaves you alone. You all have too much to do with closing the Devil’s Gate and stopping the Yellow-eyed Demon for good to focus much on Sam.
It all seems to happen so quickly when it finally goes down.
You can see Sammy connecting the dots as Jake talks to him. And then the Yellow-eyed Demon shows up and there is no time for complicated explanations.
You see Dad one last time, climbing out of hell to save his boys. His expression of deep pride twinges you with guilt. Would he be so proud of you if he knew about the deal you made?
Then again, he made a similar deal for you, so he wouldn’t have much of a leg to stand on.
You kill the Yellow-eyed Demon of course, feeling a grim satisfaction in finally putting down the monster that categorically ruined your life.
You finished your father’s crusade. But it’s far from over. Hundreds of escaped demons demand your attention and expertise.
And there is Sam.
Between Jake and the Yellow-eyed Demon he has figured it out and you feel abstractly proud – your brother is no fool.
You can tell he is absolutely furious with you and you just can’t feel bad about what you’ve done no matter how angry he is.
He promises to find a way to get you out of the deal. You believe that if anyone can, it is your genius brother, but it doesn’t really matter to you.
What matters is the job, and doing it with Sam by your side, for as long as possible. And when you are gone, Sam can go back to the life he had planned for himself, the life outside of hunting.
You stand shoulder-to-shoulder with your brother while he vows to save you, just feeling the warm living solidity of him. He is again full of infinite possibilities, infinite promise, just as it should be. That is all you care about.
Even now you feel the call of the road, of the hunt. You have Sam back and now you’ve got work to do.
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