Me, I'm not verse - December 2003
Title: Ohio, December 2003
Verse: Me, I'm not.
Author: Lifeisticking
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating NC-17 (just in case)
Words: around 5000
Warnings: Swearing, Small sex scene, a bit of violence
Summary: A woman in white, a wendigo, a vengeful spirit in water and a demonic possession on a plane later, Sam's tired, and they are heading to Ohio to investigate a strange corpse whose eyeballs exploded in their sockets.
A/N : So I'm sorry this took some time, but now we're up to the Bloody Mary episode. This serie is long to write... I added qutotes from the actual show - even rewatched the episode to inspire me. And that is the 5000 words result. Hope it's good. Comments are always treasured like first-borns. The initial part is a definite slightly OOC AU considering the series - even if Sam is a giant girl who shares his feelings.
[LJ Cut]Ohio, December 2003
Honestly, Sam was exhausted - he couldn’t sleep: it’s the recurring nightmare with Jess reaching out from her grave. He couldn’t even go to her funeral, trying to hunt down her killer and find his dad, because time was of the essence.
They had gone on a wild goose chase after the coordinates left by their dad in the middle of nowhere, Blackridge, Colorado. What did they get for their troubles? A bloody wendigo! The kind that woke up every 23 years to stock up on people so it could eat them!
Oh, and Dean being invisible, Sam had talked out loud to him and alienated the people they were supposed to save until Dean had started moving shit around and it had just been a terrified, incredulous silence.
To say the others were really glad to see him go was an understatement, grateful to be alive and even more grateful that the weirdo who talked to himself was gone. That way they could tell themselves no objects had mysteriously moved on their, the dirt hadn’t been drawn in by an unseen force, and it was just a really big bear, not a wendigo... or whatever else their minds could come up with to justify it.
And there was still no trace of dad... the trail was cold - the man hadn’t even been to Colorado.
So Dean thought it was a super idea to occupy themselves by hunting things and saving people until they could reach their father. So they had headed to Lake Manitoc, to investigate suspicious drownings turning up no bodies in a lake, they’d ended up saving a woman and her son thanks to Dean’s ability to tap in the crazy psychic connection between a boy and a vengeful spirit. Dean had taken care of him all their lives; he had known just the right words to soothe Lucas and pry some information out of him.
Let’s just say the grandfather trading in his life for that of his grandson hadn’t been the expected outcome - but there was no body to salt and burn, so it had been a hopeless case anyway. He couldn’t help the smile when Lucas had bumped fists with Dean behind his mother’s back and dutifully repeated that ‘’Zeppelin rules!’’. He hadn’t been seen like a freak, Lucas had somehow seen Dean, and Andrea had trusted her son, who trusted Sam and Dean.
He had even gotten sandwiches for the road...
Then a contact of his dad had called; what had possessed his dad to change his voicemail so it would say to call Sam? Sam would’ve just had passed it along to Bobby so he could redistribute it somewhere else... if his college life hadn’t gone up in flames. So they had dealt with a haunted plane. Dean really hated planes, too.
And when that son of a bitch of a demon had said it knew something about his friend’s death... Sam rubbed his eyes, finally opening them; he had just woken up from the nightmare again too, the image and smell of burning flesh fresh in his mind... ‘’Why’d you let me fall asleep ?’’
‘’ ‘Cause I’m an awesome brother. So, what did you dream about ?’’ Dean looked at him, the ‘’you needed it’’ subliminal message clear in his tone, and Sam wondered if Dean even needed to look at the road while he drived - he seemed to spend more time looking at him than at the road.
‘’Lollilops and candy canes.’’ He answered, making his sarcasm clear.
‘’Sam, stop that.’’ He winced, and turned toward Dean; Dean didn’t read his mind, but he just knew him too well - or he had been making noise again in his sleep. ‘’Look, I don’t know what’s gotten into you...’’
‘’How about Jess died, it’s my fault and I can’t tell you and we’re running after monsters because you think it’s good therapy or some shit, and everyone’s always thought I was crazy because of you...’’ he thought.
But Dean interrupted his whirlwind of thoughts; ‘’But it’s not going to help. Look, we can just skip Toledo if it’s bothering you and go chill out someplace. Go look at the Grand Canyon, if that’s what you’d like.’’
Maybe a hysterical laugh bubbled out of him accidentally, but Dean was looking at him like he was crazy. Which just made him laugh some more; damn straight he was crazy. ‘’Look Sam, I’m happy you’re laughing and finding this situation hilarious...’’ his brother told him in that irritated tone that meant he wasn’t happy to not be let in on the joke right now, turning his eyes away from the road, almost to scold him.
Good thing Sam wasn’t driving, because he was pretty much folded in two because he was laughing too much, and most likely having a nervous breakdown. When he composed himself back enough to wipe away the tears at the corner of his eyes and sit upright, his brother was just looking concerned now; ‘’Sammy ?’’ he asked softly.
‘’Dean, pull over, stop the car and fuck me.’’ The swerving motion of the car as Dean had been caught by surprise was worth it because his voice didn’t even shake. He was letting his brother drive more often than not lately - especially on the highways. When they were about to stop or enter a city during daylight, he’d take his turn at the wheel, but otherwise Dean just seemed happier driving anyway.
‘’What the fuck, Sam!?’’ Ah. Fuck. He snickered. And, oh, good, now Dean was looking at him like he was crazy again... it was probably justified a little. But he drove until there was a more secluded stretch of road branching off, pulling over and stopping the little Audi. ‘’You mind clueing me in now to what’s going on in your head!?’’
Except he had already removed his seatbelt and was climbing in Dean’s lap; ‘’Exactly what I said, fuck me, here, now. Though I’ll need some help to get your jeans off. And the backseat might be a better idea.’’
Dean had grabbed his hips by habit as soon as he’d climbed on him; ‘’Damnit, Sam. You’re on edge all the time, not even talking to me as much as you used to be, then you start to laugh hysterically, then cool as ice ask me to fuck you !? Are you high on something!?’’
‘’High on you, you mean?’’ he answered, batting his eyelashes at his brother exaggeratedly, before grinding down. It was true; he’d been pushing Dean away. He was making up for it though, right here, right now. He kissed him aggressively, not wanting him to talk - or potentially protest some more.
‘’Shut up, you giant girl... Don’t distract me, seriously, Sam!’’ If there was one good thing about his brother occasionally being an oversexed idiot saying awful pick-up lines to girls who couldn’t hear him and suggesting X-rated things to Sam while he was researching in a public library, it’s that if Sam grinded down just so while biting the juncture of his neck, his brother might just take him to the backseat himself, forgetting the whole thing.
It almost worked; frantic making-out and roaming hands, yet it’s when Dean had him pinned down in the backseat (he had no clue where his jeans had been thrown - and he was scrabbling at Dean’s shirt because it wasn’t fair that he had more clothes on) with his fingers brushing Sam’s prostate that he had to bring the whole discussion back; ‘’So, what’s going on in your head?’’
What a sense of timing. ‘’Really, now?’’ he half-whined, half-moaned. He jerked and clutched as his head started to ache because Dean was projecting an image of anger, of tossing him outside with only a shirt and driving away. ‘’Okay, damnit Dee, lots of things... Crazy things.’’
It apparently wasn’t the good answer because Dean removed his fingers, making him give out a low whimper of complaint. When he tried to reach Dean’s hips to move him in place, his lover moved away; ‘’Damnit, Dean... just fuck me okay? I’ll tell you after and ruin the entire afterglow if you insist, just freakin’ do it. Right now I need to be fucked into the mattress.’’
His brother aligned himself, arching an eyebrow at him at the use of the word mattress ‘’Shut up, Dean, I don’t care if it’s a car or a field right now’’ he grumbled, even if his brother hadn’t said a word. At last his command was obeyed, and he didn’t have to think; Dean sliding straight to the hilt, with just enough pain, followed by mind-numbing pleasure to stop thinking. To basically just focus on feeling Dean. He and Dean hadn’t done anything since the hunt for the Woman in White... if it made him a girl to be happy to be filled with Dean, to have him so close again, then so be it.
When things cooled down and they dislodged themselves into a slightly more comfortable position, even if he was physically worn out and emotionally a bit unstable, Sam spit it out, as he had promised, because trust and honesty was everything between them; ‘’Everyone thinks I’m crazy, because of you. Oh, don’t get the wrong idea, I don’t want you to go away, and if I could, I’d speak to you all the time, and hold your hand and be a giant girl.
You’re ... always there Dean. I know you’ll always be. But when I want to help someone and I don’t think, I just talk to you... then those people we’re supposed to be saving are scared of the madman who talks to thin air...
I mean it went well with Lucas, but I’m pretty sure that the air attendant wasn’t sure if I needed an exorcism too after all was said and done...’’ he trailed off, catching his breath before continuing;
‘’It’s hard sometimes, so I just... figured if I talked to you a little less while on a job I might not slip up and freak out the people we’re supposed to save so they might not run in the opposite direction toward a monster, like that forest guard with the wendigo. Dean, I’m sorry... This isn’t something you can fix.’’
They’d already cleaned themselves, so he was putting his clothes back on, and Dean was just silent. ‘’We still have to get to Toledo... you’d better drive, I think I’ll just sleep here or something...’’ Sam mumbled, his hands covering his face. He hated when Dean ‘’pulled’’ (for lack of a better word) so that Sam would spill everything out, because if big brother knew everything then he could fix it. He wasn’t sure how Dean could fix this. He was also a little embarrassed, because any second now Dean was going to make a crack about braiding each other’s hair.
But Dean just squeezed his shoulder, brushed his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead like he did when they were kids and Sam would sleep in the backseat of the Impala, head in Dean’s lap, before moving back into the driver’s seat; ‘’Thanks for telling me Sam. We’ll figure something out. Just sleep, dream about something nice for a change.’’
‘’Yeah sure, lollipops and candy canes, dreaming some more right away.’’ Was the muffled sarcastic reply as Sam turned away.
---
When they arrived in Toledo, their first stop was the morgue, where Sam had to bribe the man to make him believe he was an intern, here to see the Shoemaker’s corpse. The results were liquefied and bloody, perhaps exploding, eyeballs, and absolutely no signs of a stroke. According to the report, there was too much blood for this to be a stroke.
Then there was a funeral wake held at the Shoemaker’s house - the victim’s house. They entered, and Dean muttered something about being under-dressed for the occasion, but his brother remained impassive.
Sam was making nice with the surviving members - two daughters, and one was very young. He introduced himself as their father’s colleague, and looked sad enough when he gave his condolences. Bla, bla, boring. Dean was trying, for his part, to sense something unusual about the house. He turned back his attention when he heard the smallest girl sob, and Sam kneeling next to her, talking to her gently; ‘’Lily, why would you say something that?’’
He came back closer to hear what she had to say, and was faintly surprised when she said it was because she had called Bloody Mary to the house, while her sister reprimanded her about saying such stupid things and that the report that it had been a stroke, nothing more. Sam seemed pensive for a few seconds, before masking it again with sympathy, telling the young girl that her dad’s death could never have been her fault.
They entered the house, aiming to find the place of death, Sam pondering the validity of the Bloody Mary legend; ‘’I mean, everywhere else, all over the country, kids play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.’’ And that maybe this was the place where the legend began?
Dean had a pretty compelling argument; ‘’Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror. And the daughter’s right, according to the legend, you know who scratches your eyes out.’’
His brother nodded, admitting that it was worth checking into.
They were interrupted by one of the girls that had been sitting with the daughters, asking Sam why he was here, and that she would scream if he made any movement. She had blown their cover, and was asking questions. Sam answered her as best as he could, and she let him pass - he gave her a card, if she saw anything odd, to give him a call. Sam had the kind of face that made people want to trust him, Dean guessed. He stayed behind with Charlie as his brother went down the stairs, deep in thought.
‘’Hey, Charlie, right?’’ Dean said in a low ominous voice. ‘’Don’t look around, you can’t see me. But you can hear me, and maybe you’ll think you’re a little insane. But let’s make it clear - Sam? The big tall drink of water you thought was cute? Don’t even try it. He gave you a card, but it’s not because he’s interested. See, I’m Dean, and he’s mine, don’t forget it. If you do... you might lose your eyes too.’’ He finished, smirking at her distressed expression. He jogged through the walls to get outside, seeing Sam looking around in confusion, standing next to the Audi. ‘’Hey, I thought you’d followed me.’’
‘’Sorry, I was just checking the mirror a little more, I felt a faint... something, but it was gone when I checked it out again. If she hadn’t distracted us, I might have pinned it down.’’ He answered in the proper apologetic voice, shrugging. Sam was looking at him in a strange way - he didn’t think he’d warned off Charlie right? Sam had told Dean off more than once about threatening Jess - now he felt a little bad about it (but just about Jess, he didn’t regret warning off people away from his Sam).
‘’No use crying over spilt milk, we’ll figured out, come on Dean.’’ Sam’s expression had softened, even if his tone was a little exasperated.
‘’Library geek time.’’ He retorted fake-cheerily, finally making Sam’s mouth quirk a little upward.
---
They got a call from Charlie, about how her friend Jill had said you-know-what three times in front of a mirror, while she was on the phone with her. So, more exploding eyeballs, and she had been found in the bathroom. Charlie brought Sam in via the window, and he started the camera in night-vision, see if he could pick up anything unusual.
"Do I look like Paris Hilton?’’ his brother said, half-heartedly striking a pose for the camera, earning a small barely-there smile from Sam.
Dean then started to snoop around with the EMF as well, earning a choked squeak from Charlie. The EMF always let out a low whine around Dean, but if it picked up something else, it would be considerably higher.
‘’Please, tell me I’m insane, that the Walkman isn’t floating on its own is it?’’ She sounded scared and her voice wavered - he hoped she wouldn’t faint.
Sam hesitated for a few seconds; ‘’It’s okay Charlie. He’s a friend - you just can’t see him, but his name is Dean. He’s the one holding the Walkman. He’s on my side. I’m sorry it’s making you nervous, but I’ll start talking to him now too - otherwise we just won’t work well, and we really want to stop what is happening here. I really need you to believe me, and not freak out.’’ He said reassuringly, holding his hands in front of her like he would with a scared victim, trying to make himself look harmless. When she nodded slowly, he went off to examine the bathroom.
He didn’t see her freeze afterward, looking in Dean’s general direction and or hear her mutter her breath that it couldn’t possibly be and that was exactly that he was on Sam’s side that made her worried.
He was too busy looking at the blood drip pattern near the mirror; ‘’Hey, I found something. We do have an infrared light in the trunk right?’’
They’d later know that the name written along with a bloody handprint was the name of an 8-years old boy that Jill had hit, and then drove away from. A little more research showed that ‘’Linda Shoemaker’’ was written behind the mirror of the first victim, with the same bloody handprint, although they managed to upset the daughter even more. Well, he managed. Dean had just been running a depreciative commentary that couldn’t be heard by almost all present.
When they were back at the motel, he quirked up an eyebrow at Dean’s suggestion of a search nationwide - the local search had turned up nothing. He wasn’t even surprised anymore when Dean sat down and flipped his laptop open, starting his search immediately.
Dean hadn’t done a lot of things on his own when they had lived in the dorms of Stanford or with Jess, fear of discovery maybe. But he also seemed... stronger, than he had been before. Not physically, that hadn’t changed much - smaller than Sam, short light brown hair, vivid green eyes, leather jacket with threadbare t-shirts and jeans, but more like when they had been younger, on their own because Dad was gone all the time.
There had been no one to pry back then, so Dean had been able to make his awesome grilled cheese sandwiches since he didn’t have to care about someone seeing the pan hover in mid-air. Now, he didn’t make cheese sandwiches, but he did what he wanted without questions that would put Sam in a loony bin. He supposed the room was like sanctuary, since it was just the two of them, once again. It took him longer to start fading around the edges, a sign of when he overexerted himself. Dean had to be more careful outside - although since Sam had ousted his existence to Charlie by talking to him, he didn’t have to be careful when she was around.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by Dean’s words; ‘’So. Check this out - Mary Worthington. Died in front of a mirror, Fort Wayne, Indiana. Let’s drive.’’
They stopped outside of town to switch place so Dean could drive - if he was honest, Sam would probably let Dean drive all the time, if only he could. It was as if himself being in the driving seat was *wrong*, in a way he couldn’t explain.
Once in Fort Wayne, they learned a crucial piece of information: that Mary Worthington had been cremated, which meant she was most likely tied to her mirror. And that her eyes had been cut out, almost surgically - and she had tried to spell her murderer’s name on the mirror. All things their current vengeful ghost did as well; it had been done to her, and now she removed the eyes of her victims, and spelled their secret behind the mirror.
---
They tracked down the mirror down to an antique store in town, which explained why Mary had been haunting Toledo. It was a peaceful, if slightly over the speed limit, drive. Until Charlie’s panicked call, which brought a new sense of urgency and Dean floored the accelerator at Sam’s urging, not even making a crack about the sudden change of policy in Sam’s usually ‘’grandmotherly’’ driving. They hid her in their motel room, covering or removing all the reflective surfaces, and even Dean pitied her - she was a shivering mess, hiding her eyes at almost all times, huddled on the bed.
‘’We’ll take care of this. Stay in this room, she can’t get you here, you’re safe.’’ Sam said, trying to be reassuring, as they exited the room, having taken the extra time to show Charlie that there were no more reflective surfaces (she wouldn’t look into his eyes just in case) and that salt was a repellant against spirits, and they had laid tracks of it in the windows, and doors.
---
They had waited until nightfall before going into the shop, Sam lock-picking the door easily. Stupid Sam and his suicidal plan - they had argued about finding someone to summon Mary directly to her mirror, but Sam was adamant about not endangering more people (especially not Charlie).
Then he had suggested that he would summon herself, which had prompted more arguing, because Sam didn’t have a secret that resulted in someone else’s death - Dean had been there all the time ! Then it had clicked, it was about Sam’s stupid guilt in thinking it was his fault Jessica had died. He had tried to reason with Sam that it wouldn’t work - it was no secret, he knew all about this! But Sam had looked down, a little pained, and had said that Dean didn’t know everything.
And so now they were both standing before the big ornate mirror that tied Mary to the material world.
Dean saw his brother take a deep breath, before saying it once, holding the crow bar at the ready; ‘’Bloody Mary.’’ A pause, and a fine tremor going through him as he said it a second time, before looking at him (he tried for his best this-is-serious-but-I’m-there-be-reassured-I’ll-kick-her-ass face) and saying it a third time.
Nothing happened, but then lights shone in from the front of the stores.
‘’Shit, I must have tripped the silent alarm.’’ Sam said, without looking away from the mirror. Sam had said it already, why wasn’t she coming right away - maybe his guilt was misplaced? He couldn’t figure out what squeaky-clean Sam could have done to merit the attention of that bitch. His brother barely nodded in acknowledgement when Dean told him that he’d take care of this, and to smash anything that moved.
He can see them wondering whether to go in or not just yet, as they inspect the door - well; Sam was always great at picking locks in a subtle manner. It’s too bad they’re standing this close to the door though, for them anyway.
‘’Well, I’m sorry officers, wait, no I’m not, but I don’t have time for this.’’ He says pleasantly to people who can’t hear him because he’s not bothering right now, and opens the door forcefully, bashing it in the forehead of the first officer, who looks bewildered when nobody comes out from behind the door. He knocks the second swiftly with a well-placed punch, when he feels a second of intense pain. Sam, damnit.
--
At the same time, Sam wondered if nothing was going to happen, if his guilt was misplaced - but then, his reflection seemed odd. He tilted his head on the side, a common gesture of confusion, and when his reflection didn’t move and started to bleed out from an eye...
Pain exploded in his skull, he could barely keep up with what the spirit was saying, in his own voice, aware only of a lot of pain and that staying standing was taking all his efforts.
‘’You never told anyone the truth. Who you really are. But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having? Of Jessica dying? Screaming, burning? You had them for days before she died. Didn't you? You were so desperate to not be even more of a freak. To believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die, while you went off with Dean on a wild goose chase? You dreamt it would happen!’’
He couldn’t even send a mental signal to Dean - or maybe his pain was a sufficient signal, because Dean arrived and smashed the damn mirror, and he slumped forward, his brother catching him. ‘’Hey, Sammy?’’
‘’It’s Sam.’’
Dean just smiled at him, relieved, before gingerly touching the blood streaks; ‘’Let’s get you out of here, I think we need something life re-affirming.’’ Sam chuckled weakly in response, before being hauled to his feet, arm over his brother’s shoulder, making slowly for the door.
And then more pain.
When he focused properly again, he saw that Dean was holding a mirror to her face, hearing the spirit speak to Mary about her own guilt, killing all those people. He felt a moment’s pity, but it was rapidly gone when his head throbbed. Dean dropped the mirror, losing some of his solidity at the same time, turning over to him - wait, was his face streaked with blood as well? ‘’Hey, Sam, that’s got to be like, what, 600 of years of bad luck?’’
They stayed in the car that night, after Dean had wiped away the blood with an old rag and a bottle of water. The good thing was that there was no major injuries in this hunt, even if Sam felt like his head was about to explode still. He had wanted to ask about Dean’s bloodied face, but the smears and drips had all disappeared rapidly. A subject for another day. He dozed in the backseat until the painkillers kicked in, pillowed on Dean’s lap, who stroked his hair until (and probably after) he fell asleep.
They came to get Charlie in the morning, dropping her off at her house. He reassured her that it was all over, it never would happen again, and that they were going back on the road - more cases to take care of. At the last minute he called back to her, telling her that her boyfriend’s death hadn’t been her fault, and that she shouldn’t feel guilt about it, and to move on.
He grimaced when Dean told him it was good advice, then quietly asked if he was going to spill it now, what had caused the bleeding, the secret.
‘’Look Dean, you’re my brother, and I love you - I’d die for you, but there’s some things I have to keep for myself.’’ He said, with a small smile. When he turns his head, he sees Jessica on the sidewalk, dressed in a white gown. He’s glad he doesn’t run them into a telephone pole, before shaking himself, and focusing on driving. He feels shaken, and trades places with Dean as soon as he can. Dean just looks at him oddly, and Sam leans forward to kiss him, replacing the expression with joy. They exchange a smile before settling in their respective seats, Dean putting on some AC/DC.
A/N : I felt Sam was due for a little breakdown at the start - here he's used to sharing everything with Dean, and they don't have a few years of distance. I'd really see Sam spilling almost everything to Dean in that context - Dean also has no qualms since he feels the reason he exists is Sam, so he'll pull it out of his brother, instead of the tried and true Winchester method of denial and not dealing. (not to say they won't be in denial about things, just less so than in the serie).
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