Occam's Razor Part 3
In the guestroom, Dean tried to settle them both. He smoothed Sam's floppy, dark hair, let his skinny brother burrow against his chest, pulled him in close and tried to force his own heart to slow. Let the kid think everything was under control. Dean knew the drill.
"Why'd you think we'd hurt you, Sammy?" he murmured. Sam gripped his shirt and shuddered.
"You always do the right thing, Dean," Sam managed. "It's okay. Just...make it quick.."
"I'm not going to lay a finger on you, and I'm not going to let Bobby or Dad or anyone else." He yanked his brother closer, ignoring the tense muscles. "You're safe Sammy, I swear."
Sam didn't answer, just gripped Dean's shirt and pressed tight against him. Dean dreaded the silence.
"C'mon, kiddo, don't go mute on me again. Talk to me. You've always talked to me."
"I've...I've tried to wait. I thought...I figured Dad was going to figure out the best way to do it, and...and you were waiting so I wouldn't know." Sam shook against him. Dean snaked a hand up to rub the back of his brother's head. "I know you...you wouldn't want it to hurt....thought you'd just...put something in my...food or....maybe a drink so I'd just...go in my sleep. Or wait until I was asleep and then--"
"Stop it, Sammy, Jesus--"
"I...I can't take waiting anymore, Dean. I just want it to be over."
"Sam," Dean said sternly, pushing him away to lock eyes with his brother. "No one's going to hurt you."
"Then why did Dad leave? What did he go to get?"
"Nothing, kiddo." He tilted Sam's chin up. "Bobby sent him away. The two of us have been trying to get you back on your feet. That's all." He pushed some hair back as Sam's chin wobbled. "We don't know what you saw, Sam. Honestly, the only reason I care is because of what it did to you. Dad never should have let him put you under. If I'd known this is what would happen I wouldn't have let him, Sammy."
"You...you didn't know?"
"Of course I didn't know!" Dean sat up, forcing Sam up with him. "He told me what he told you--that he thought he had a way to see the thing. Through a psychic. I never imagined--" his voice caught. "Then...I thought...it'd be a glimpse, nothing more...you'd know the creature and..." Dean swallowed, hard. "Shit, Sammy, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
"It's not." Sam grasped desperately at his brother's arms. "No, Dean, I'd--if he'd--told me this would happen I still would have done it. It's for Mom and...I thought I could...I didn't--think--" his voice wavered again. Dean laid warm, firm hands on his shoulders and rubbed, softly.
"What did you see, Sammy?" he murmured. Sam's wide, dark eyes shut tight, and he shivered.
"I'm not...sure." He shuddered. Dean kept his hands moving in soothing circles. "It was...a man. Human, I think. At least...he sorta looked it, but...his eyes..." his breath hitched. Dean waited, allowing him space. "They weren't...right. Kinda...yellow. And they glowed in the dark, like...a cat."
"That all?"
Sam shook his head. "He had a black coat, I think. And I..." a tear slid out from under his lid. "I don't know how I knew, but I knew he was...wrong. Bad. It was cold. I...I was crying out, the only way I could. I heard...I heard her voice."
"Mom's?"
Sam nodded. "But...the words don't make sense."
"You didn't know any."
"No. But I thought...now...that they would."
Dean nodded. "That all?"
Sam shook his head. "I...Mom...she left. And then...came back. That's when she screamed. Dad came in. I..." his voice broke. Dean kept his hands steady: his face, composed. "I could...see her, Dean and I...I felt safe. I wasn't crying. She was over my crib but...it was okay. And then Dad came in and I...I laughed. The man was gone. Everything was fine. But then the ceiling...it was all fire and this...roar and..." Sam's eyes opened and he clutched at his brother. "I knew the man was still there. I know he wanted me, Dean. It wasn't Mom he was after, it was me! He did something to me, he...when he stood over me, there was something that hit my mouth that started me crying...it burned my throat, it was wrong, and it scared me. I wanted it out, I wanted it to go away! I woke up Mom and she came in and that's what started everything, don't you see? That thing did something to me and now we lost Mom and I may have something evil in me and Dad will kill me when he knows, Dean, I want it to be you, I want you to just finish it--"
"Sammy, Sammy," Dean clasped his brother's face in his hands and forced him to look up. "Listen to me. When the fire started, do you remember what happened after?"
Sam looked at him wildly. "Dad...Dad pulled me out of the crib."
"And then? Did you see what happened then?"
"He..." his voice hitched. He frowned slightly. "He...gave me to you."
"And I carried you down the stairs out the front door. Did you see that?" Sam nodded slowly. "I told you it was okay. I held onto you and I kept you safe. You think I'd just turn around now and kill you? Because some thing almost did?" Sam dropped his head and Dean pulled him into his arms once more. "it's okay," he soothed. "It's okay, buddy. I don't know what that thing put in your mouth but we'll fix it."
"What if I turn into a monster, Dean?" he managed.
"You're not gonna, kiddo. It doesn't work like that."
"But--"
"Sammy, stop." He guided them down, covering them with the quilts, tucking them in tight. "We're gonna figure it out. There isn't anything we can't figure out between you and me and Dad and Bobby. No one's hurting you. No one's killing you, that's for sure. Over my dead body, you hear? Now c'mon," he gave him a light squeeze. "You've got to sleep, Sam. You're exhausted. You've been making yourself sick and half-crazy. Trust me."
Sam nodded, his brown hair tickling Dean's chin. "I trust you," he whispered, clutching at his brothers' shirt.
"Go to sleep then," Dean coaxed. He leaned on top of his head and started humming something. Sam snorted and smiled, a real smile, when he realized it was Zeppelin's "Rambling On."
"You singing me a lullaby?"
"Hey, if you're gonna stick us in a chick flick, I'm going to at least make sure it has a decent soundtrack."
Sam closed his eyes, exhaustion pooling into his limbs. "Thanks Dean," he murmured.
"It'll be better when you wake up," Dean soothed. "Promise."
Sam slept to Dean's low humming.
***
Bobby was asleep at his desk when he heard the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs and Dean appeared in the doorway. "Sam asleep?"
"Finally." He glanced behind him before crossing the room. "I don't want to be away too long in case he wakes up and freaks. But he spilled, Bobby."
The elder hunter listened intently as Dean described what his brother had seen, including the aftermath. Bobby nodded, making a mental checklist: strange eyes, humanoid appearance, ability to move and paralyze humans with the mind, ability to start fire and become invisible. Dean kept his voice low and looked over his shoulder repeatedly, ensuring that Sam was out of sight.
"Do you think...that thing did something to my brother? Turned him?"
"The boy's been around salt, silver, and holy water his whole life. He's recited exorcisms in Latin from the time he was eight years old. Can't imagine anything getting through all of that."
"Bobby, I'm going to tell you this right now," Dean said, his voice suddenly lethal. "Whatever that thing did to Sammy, I am going to find a away to fix him. No one is hurting my brother. I don't care what he turns into. Am I clear?"
"Boy, who do you think you're talking to?" Bobby snapped.
"A hunter."
"Family don't end with blood."
Dean visibly relaxed. "I'd better head back up. I don't want Sammy to wake up alone."
"You get some sleep too, kid. That's an order."
Dean smiled slightly. "Yes, sir."
Back upstairs, he sank onto the mattress, burrowed under the covers, and pulled Sam back into his arms. His brother sighed and shifted in his sleep, eyes slanting partially open.
"Dean?" he murmured. "Y'okay?"
"We're okay, Sammy," Dean soothed. "It's all okay." And then, because Sam was asleep and there had been dozens of ridiculous, stupid, sugary moments in the past few days and Dean is so Goddamned relieved his brother is speaking, he leans forward and kisses Sam lightly on the top of his head, the way he used to when he was a baby. Sammy sighs and nestles against Dean's shoulder like he belongs there, and when Dean closes his eyes, he knows he does, and even if he doesn't pray he wishes, hopes, swears to the universe that it work as hard as he planned to to keep the kid alive.
Next
Part I Part II
"Why'd you think we'd hurt you, Sammy?" he murmured. Sam gripped his shirt and shuddered.
"You always do the right thing, Dean," Sam managed. "It's okay. Just...make it quick.."
"I'm not going to lay a finger on you, and I'm not going to let Bobby or Dad or anyone else." He yanked his brother closer, ignoring the tense muscles. "You're safe Sammy, I swear."
Sam didn't answer, just gripped Dean's shirt and pressed tight against him. Dean dreaded the silence.
"C'mon, kiddo, don't go mute on me again. Talk to me. You've always talked to me."
"I've...I've tried to wait. I thought...I figured Dad was going to figure out the best way to do it, and...and you were waiting so I wouldn't know." Sam shook against him. Dean snaked a hand up to rub the back of his brother's head. "I know you...you wouldn't want it to hurt....thought you'd just...put something in my...food or....maybe a drink so I'd just...go in my sleep. Or wait until I was asleep and then--"
"Stop it, Sammy, Jesus--"
"I...I can't take waiting anymore, Dean. I just want it to be over."
"Sam," Dean said sternly, pushing him away to lock eyes with his brother. "No one's going to hurt you."
"Then why did Dad leave? What did he go to get?"
"Nothing, kiddo." He tilted Sam's chin up. "Bobby sent him away. The two of us have been trying to get you back on your feet. That's all." He pushed some hair back as Sam's chin wobbled. "We don't know what you saw, Sam. Honestly, the only reason I care is because of what it did to you. Dad never should have let him put you under. If I'd known this is what would happen I wouldn't have let him, Sammy."
"You...you didn't know?"
"Of course I didn't know!" Dean sat up, forcing Sam up with him. "He told me what he told you--that he thought he had a way to see the thing. Through a psychic. I never imagined--" his voice caught. "Then...I thought...it'd be a glimpse, nothing more...you'd know the creature and..." Dean swallowed, hard. "Shit, Sammy, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
"It's not." Sam grasped desperately at his brother's arms. "No, Dean, I'd--if he'd--told me this would happen I still would have done it. It's for Mom and...I thought I could...I didn't--think--" his voice wavered again. Dean laid warm, firm hands on his shoulders and rubbed, softly.
"What did you see, Sammy?" he murmured. Sam's wide, dark eyes shut tight, and he shivered.
"I'm not...sure." He shuddered. Dean kept his hands moving in soothing circles. "It was...a man. Human, I think. At least...he sorta looked it, but...his eyes..." his breath hitched. Dean waited, allowing him space. "They weren't...right. Kinda...yellow. And they glowed in the dark, like...a cat."
"That all?"
Sam shook his head. "He had a black coat, I think. And I..." a tear slid out from under his lid. "I don't know how I knew, but I knew he was...wrong. Bad. It was cold. I...I was crying out, the only way I could. I heard...I heard her voice."
"Mom's?"
Sam nodded. "But...the words don't make sense."
"You didn't know any."
"No. But I thought...now...that they would."
Dean nodded. "That all?"
Sam shook his head. "I...Mom...she left. And then...came back. That's when she screamed. Dad came in. I..." his voice broke. Dean kept his hands steady: his face, composed. "I could...see her, Dean and I...I felt safe. I wasn't crying. She was over my crib but...it was okay. And then Dad came in and I...I laughed. The man was gone. Everything was fine. But then the ceiling...it was all fire and this...roar and..." Sam's eyes opened and he clutched at his brother. "I knew the man was still there. I know he wanted me, Dean. It wasn't Mom he was after, it was me! He did something to me, he...when he stood over me, there was something that hit my mouth that started me crying...it burned my throat, it was wrong, and it scared me. I wanted it out, I wanted it to go away! I woke up Mom and she came in and that's what started everything, don't you see? That thing did something to me and now we lost Mom and I may have something evil in me and Dad will kill me when he knows, Dean, I want it to be you, I want you to just finish it--"
"Sammy, Sammy," Dean clasped his brother's face in his hands and forced him to look up. "Listen to me. When the fire started, do you remember what happened after?"
Sam looked at him wildly. "Dad...Dad pulled me out of the crib."
"And then? Did you see what happened then?"
"He..." his voice hitched. He frowned slightly. "He...gave me to you."
"And I carried you down the stairs out the front door. Did you see that?" Sam nodded slowly. "I told you it was okay. I held onto you and I kept you safe. You think I'd just turn around now and kill you? Because some thing almost did?" Sam dropped his head and Dean pulled him into his arms once more. "it's okay," he soothed. "It's okay, buddy. I don't know what that thing put in your mouth but we'll fix it."
"What if I turn into a monster, Dean?" he managed.
"You're not gonna, kiddo. It doesn't work like that."
"But--"
"Sammy, stop." He guided them down, covering them with the quilts, tucking them in tight. "We're gonna figure it out. There isn't anything we can't figure out between you and me and Dad and Bobby. No one's hurting you. No one's killing you, that's for sure. Over my dead body, you hear? Now c'mon," he gave him a light squeeze. "You've got to sleep, Sam. You're exhausted. You've been making yourself sick and half-crazy. Trust me."
Sam nodded, his brown hair tickling Dean's chin. "I trust you," he whispered, clutching at his brothers' shirt.
"Go to sleep then," Dean coaxed. He leaned on top of his head and started humming something. Sam snorted and smiled, a real smile, when he realized it was Zeppelin's "Rambling On."
"You singing me a lullaby?"
"Hey, if you're gonna stick us in a chick flick, I'm going to at least make sure it has a decent soundtrack."
Sam closed his eyes, exhaustion pooling into his limbs. "Thanks Dean," he murmured.
"It'll be better when you wake up," Dean soothed. "Promise."
Sam slept to Dean's low humming.
***
Bobby was asleep at his desk when he heard the soft sound of footsteps on the stairs and Dean appeared in the doorway. "Sam asleep?"
"Finally." He glanced behind him before crossing the room. "I don't want to be away too long in case he wakes up and freaks. But he spilled, Bobby."
The elder hunter listened intently as Dean described what his brother had seen, including the aftermath. Bobby nodded, making a mental checklist: strange eyes, humanoid appearance, ability to move and paralyze humans with the mind, ability to start fire and become invisible. Dean kept his voice low and looked over his shoulder repeatedly, ensuring that Sam was out of sight.
"Do you think...that thing did something to my brother? Turned him?"
"The boy's been around salt, silver, and holy water his whole life. He's recited exorcisms in Latin from the time he was eight years old. Can't imagine anything getting through all of that."
"Bobby, I'm going to tell you this right now," Dean said, his voice suddenly lethal. "Whatever that thing did to Sammy, I am going to find a away to fix him. No one is hurting my brother. I don't care what he turns into. Am I clear?"
"Boy, who do you think you're talking to?" Bobby snapped.
"A hunter."
"Family don't end with blood."
Dean visibly relaxed. "I'd better head back up. I don't want Sammy to wake up alone."
"You get some sleep too, kid. That's an order."
Dean smiled slightly. "Yes, sir."
Back upstairs, he sank onto the mattress, burrowed under the covers, and pulled Sam back into his arms. His brother sighed and shifted in his sleep, eyes slanting partially open.
"Dean?" he murmured. "Y'okay?"
"We're okay, Sammy," Dean soothed. "It's all okay." And then, because Sam was asleep and there had been dozens of ridiculous, stupid, sugary moments in the past few days and Dean is so Goddamned relieved his brother is speaking, he leans forward and kisses Sam lightly on the top of his head, the way he used to when he was a baby. Sammy sighs and nestles against Dean's shoulder like he belongs there, and when Dean closes his eyes, he knows he does, and even if he doesn't pray he wishes, hopes, swears to the universe that it work as hard as he planned to to keep the kid alive.
Next
Part I Part II