Savin' Me
Savin’ Me
Chapter 7
Chapter Wordcount: 1615
The old rickety wooden street sign waved lazily in the quiet late night breeze.
Sam had stolen some random car from a parking lot, driving out to Fuller’s Cross…the nearest crossroads to where they had been staying.
He sighed, pulling one of his many fake I.D.s from his pocket, placing it inside the small metal box.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he dug a shallow hole in the center of the intersection, placing the box in the dirt before covering it.
He stood back up, brushing the dirt from his hands onto his pants and cautiously turned, glancing down all four empty streets.
The air swirled before just stilling abruptly and Sam’s shoulders tensed, a shiver running down his spine as he felt eyes on him.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the only Winchester I have yet to have met,” a sickly sweet voice crooned.
Sam turned. The girl barely made it to his chest and looked like she belonged more in the hallways of a high school.
“What can I do for you Sammy?” she grinned, eyes bleeding red before returning to her pretty brown.
His palms itched, wishing he could just break her nose for using that name alone, let alone the other vendettas he had against her.
“Let Dean out of his deal.”
“Ooo, sorry, no can do.”
Sam laughed, letting his hatred fuel his anger, clearly evident in the storm clouds rolling through his eyes and cold mask on his face.
“Yes you can…and you will.”
“Or what Sam? You can’t do anything, especially now that your yellowed eyed friend is gone.”
“Or I’ll kill you,” Sam smiled, pulling The Colt out of his waistband and raising it smoothly to aim dead between her pretty little eyes.
She had the gall to laugh.
“You’re not going to shoot me Sam, we both know that. Because what if that doesn’t solve the problem?” she asked, mock concern on her face.
“What if at the end of the year your dear Dean still goes to Hell?”
“You let him out, or else I kill you, and you never make a deal, never crawl out of Hell…ever again.”
“Sorry, like I said, no can do.”
Sam pulled back the hammer.
“Are you kidding me? Sam, Sam, Sam…I’m just the saleswoman, you don’t actually pay me for the car.”
He tried not to let his glare falter.
“What?”
“I’m not the one with the paperwork Sam, I’m just the one that had him sign it.”
“Who holds his deal?”
“Like I could tell you.”
Sam took a step forward, bringing the barrel that much closer to her forehead.
“Go ahead Sam, it isn’t going to get you anywhere and you know it.”
Hit bit the inside of his cheek and let his arm fall.
“Don’t worry Sam, it’ll be okay. You’ve lived without Dean before haven’t you?”
She didn’t have time to react as his arm swung back up and sent a bullet speeding into her brain.
Sam couldn’t hear the roar of the Impala speeding up the road, the roar in his own ears drowning it out.
Dean managed to catch Sam’s figure in the headlights just in time to see the flash as the gun went off.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled, his foot going closer to the floor.
The Impala fishtailed hard as he cut her sharp, pulling her into a stop. He was out and running towards Sam before the engine had even completely died.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he screamed, still running for Sam.
Sam was still checked out, staring into the airspace that just a moment before the Crossroad’s Demon had been standing in.
“Sam?!” Dean roared, wrenching on his elbow and yanking him around, almost throwing him off balance completely.
The creak of the Impala’s trunk opening caught Dean’s attention and he turned his head, forgetting for a moment that Casey was with him, to see her pulling a shovel and gas and salt from the trunk before catching his eyes with a cold glare. She walked over to them without a word and grabbed the girl’s hand, dragging the body off into the grass.
Her glare brought Dean back from the edge of his rage and despite what Sam had done, it was done now, and apparently Sam was still dealing with it, seeing as he was still staring into nowhere.
Dean reached down, holding his anger in check and took The Colt from Sam’s trembling hand before pulling him back to the car and manhandling him into the back seat.
“We’ll deal with this at the motel,” he growled, slamming the door in frustration.
He took a half dozen steps towards where Casey had disappeared before spinning on his heel and running his hands through his hair, finally just leaning against the cool supportive metal of the Impala until she came walking back through the tall grass.
She caught his eye but said nothing before replacing the items in the trunk and getting in the passenger side, waiting for him to follow.
Sam sunk onto the end of his bed, staring at his hands in his lap and before the lock had even clicked on the door Dean was yelling at him.
“What the Hell were you thinking?”
Casey shrugged off her jacket, eyes silently shooting between Sam and Dean.
“Dean…”
“What Sam? I fucking told you not to go after her!”
“And I’m supposed to listen to you?!”
Suddenly Sam seemed to snap out of his daze and was ready to go at it again.
“Hell yes you’re supposed to listen to me!”
“Why?! Because I’m you’re little brother?! Screw that Dean!” he screamed, stabbing a finger at him. “I’m not some little snot nosed brat you have to watch anymore! I’m a freaking adult and I’ve been through too much shit, we’ve been through too much shit for you to freaking treat me like that anymore!”
“I told you the terms of the deal,” he growled, “What if she would have taken you right then and there damnit?!” he asked, voice spiking with anger.
“Well she didn’t!”
“Jesus Christ Sam! You like playing Russian Roulette?!”
“You do Dean!”
The glare Dean shot at him could have frozen Hell.
“Damnit Sam, I told you, I’m a weak bastard and I couldn’t, wouldn’t live without you, and I don’t for one second regret that deal! Given the chance I’d do it again, so how ‘bout you don’t go and get your self fucking killed since I don’t anything left to bargain with!”
Sam’s eyes sparkled with a mix of unshed tears and pure anger.
“You bastard,” he hissed. “You’re not the only fucking one here that doesn’t want to live without the other Dean. You wouldn’t stop at anything to bring me back what the Hell makes you think I’m not gonna do the same damn thing. Screw you and this damn martyr self-sacrificing thing you’ve got going. I used to blame Dad for it, now I just don’t know what to think, but goddamnit you’re not worth less than anyone else! You’re not worth less than me!” he said, voice breaking unwillingly as he tried to hold onto his anger. Anger that burned bright and hot and was so much easier to hold onto than the cold dread and sorrow that threatened to drown him, his anger was like a life raft.
“I don’t regret for a second what I did Dean, and I’d sure as Hell do it again. You told me she said if you tried to get yourself out of the deal I would die, she said nothing about me!”
“You’re going to gamble your life over semantics?!”
“Shut up both of you,” Casey’s voice sliced through the tension, the anger and frustration in her own voice causing both boys to freeze.
“First off what’s done is done. You may not like it but you know what, Sam didn’t like you saving my ass either so get over it. And yes, Dean he damn well should gamble his life over semantics because what she said is the same as a black and white legal document in our world. If she said you that does not in any way, shape or form include Sam or anyone else, which is her sloppy mistake, one that we can use to get your self-sacrificing ass out of this deal. Because you may be all ‘brave in the face of danger’ but I’ve been there Dean and I don’t want to go back and I don’t want you to go there period.”
Dean didn’t even have time to pull the air from his lungs to even start to voice his comeback when Casey held up her hand.
“Just shut up.”
Sam’s eyes shot between the two before collapsing on the end of his bed as the adrenaline pulsing through his veins started to throb and dissipate.
“Now Sam, did you get anything out of her?”
He inhaled sharply, eyes still red. “She said…she said she didn’t have the contract, that she was just the sales woman.”
“Did you ask her who had it?”
“Yea, but she wouldn’t tell me.”
Casey sighed, “Okay, we’ll just keep looking.”
“Here,” she said, pulling some cash out of her back pocket, “Go get us some dinner…and some drinks Dean, preferably death on a plate with liquid fire to follow it.”
He couldn’t help but smile, reaching out and taking the cash. “Grease and high test alcohol, got it.”
He was just about to go through the door when he paused.
“Sam…”
“Me too.”
He nodded with a sad smile before disappearing back outside.
Chapter Notes: Action and fighting! whoo!
Fuller's Cross is actually a name of a road out by my brother's house. I noticed it last time we went out there and just thought it sounded cool. *shrugs*
This is the demon:
Don't ask me why I needed to have a damn picture of her, not like I used it for anything.
And the contract being in someone else's hands would be that plot point I said I stole from Bedtime Stories.
Previous: Chapter Six | Next: Chapter Eight
Chapter 7
Chapter Wordcount: 1615
The old rickety wooden street sign waved lazily in the quiet late night breeze.
Sam had stolen some random car from a parking lot, driving out to Fuller’s Cross…the nearest crossroads to where they had been staying.
He sighed, pulling one of his many fake I.D.s from his pocket, placing it inside the small metal box.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he dug a shallow hole in the center of the intersection, placing the box in the dirt before covering it.
He stood back up, brushing the dirt from his hands onto his pants and cautiously turned, glancing down all four empty streets.
The air swirled before just stilling abruptly and Sam’s shoulders tensed, a shiver running down his spine as he felt eyes on him.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the only Winchester I have yet to have met,” a sickly sweet voice crooned.
Sam turned. The girl barely made it to his chest and looked like she belonged more in the hallways of a high school.
“What can I do for you Sammy?” she grinned, eyes bleeding red before returning to her pretty brown.
His palms itched, wishing he could just break her nose for using that name alone, let alone the other vendettas he had against her.
“Let Dean out of his deal.”
“Ooo, sorry, no can do.”
Sam laughed, letting his hatred fuel his anger, clearly evident in the storm clouds rolling through his eyes and cold mask on his face.
“Yes you can…and you will.”
“Or what Sam? You can’t do anything, especially now that your yellowed eyed friend is gone.”
“Or I’ll kill you,” Sam smiled, pulling The Colt out of his waistband and raising it smoothly to aim dead between her pretty little eyes.
She had the gall to laugh.
“You’re not going to shoot me Sam, we both know that. Because what if that doesn’t solve the problem?” she asked, mock concern on her face.
“What if at the end of the year your dear Dean still goes to Hell?”
“You let him out, or else I kill you, and you never make a deal, never crawl out of Hell…ever again.”
“Sorry, like I said, no can do.”
Sam pulled back the hammer.
“Are you kidding me? Sam, Sam, Sam…I’m just the saleswoman, you don’t actually pay me for the car.”
He tried not to let his glare falter.
“What?”
“I’m not the one with the paperwork Sam, I’m just the one that had him sign it.”
“Who holds his deal?”
“Like I could tell you.”
Sam took a step forward, bringing the barrel that much closer to her forehead.
“Go ahead Sam, it isn’t going to get you anywhere and you know it.”
Hit bit the inside of his cheek and let his arm fall.
“Don’t worry Sam, it’ll be okay. You’ve lived without Dean before haven’t you?”
She didn’t have time to react as his arm swung back up and sent a bullet speeding into her brain.
Sam couldn’t hear the roar of the Impala speeding up the road, the roar in his own ears drowning it out.
Dean managed to catch Sam’s figure in the headlights just in time to see the flash as the gun went off.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled, his foot going closer to the floor.
The Impala fishtailed hard as he cut her sharp, pulling her into a stop. He was out and running towards Sam before the engine had even completely died.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he screamed, still running for Sam.
Sam was still checked out, staring into the airspace that just a moment before the Crossroad’s Demon had been standing in.
“Sam?!” Dean roared, wrenching on his elbow and yanking him around, almost throwing him off balance completely.
The creak of the Impala’s trunk opening caught Dean’s attention and he turned his head, forgetting for a moment that Casey was with him, to see her pulling a shovel and gas and salt from the trunk before catching his eyes with a cold glare. She walked over to them without a word and grabbed the girl’s hand, dragging the body off into the grass.
Her glare brought Dean back from the edge of his rage and despite what Sam had done, it was done now, and apparently Sam was still dealing with it, seeing as he was still staring into nowhere.
Dean reached down, holding his anger in check and took The Colt from Sam’s trembling hand before pulling him back to the car and manhandling him into the back seat.
“We’ll deal with this at the motel,” he growled, slamming the door in frustration.
He took a half dozen steps towards where Casey had disappeared before spinning on his heel and running his hands through his hair, finally just leaning against the cool supportive metal of the Impala until she came walking back through the tall grass.
She caught his eye but said nothing before replacing the items in the trunk and getting in the passenger side, waiting for him to follow.
Sam sunk onto the end of his bed, staring at his hands in his lap and before the lock had even clicked on the door Dean was yelling at him.
“What the Hell were you thinking?”
Casey shrugged off her jacket, eyes silently shooting between Sam and Dean.
“Dean…”
“What Sam? I fucking told you not to go after her!”
“And I’m supposed to listen to you?!”
Suddenly Sam seemed to snap out of his daze and was ready to go at it again.
“Hell yes you’re supposed to listen to me!”
“Why?! Because I’m you’re little brother?! Screw that Dean!” he screamed, stabbing a finger at him. “I’m not some little snot nosed brat you have to watch anymore! I’m a freaking adult and I’ve been through too much shit, we’ve been through too much shit for you to freaking treat me like that anymore!”
“I told you the terms of the deal,” he growled, “What if she would have taken you right then and there damnit?!” he asked, voice spiking with anger.
“Well she didn’t!”
“Jesus Christ Sam! You like playing Russian Roulette?!”
“You do Dean!”
The glare Dean shot at him could have frozen Hell.
“Damnit Sam, I told you, I’m a weak bastard and I couldn’t, wouldn’t live without you, and I don’t for one second regret that deal! Given the chance I’d do it again, so how ‘bout you don’t go and get your self fucking killed since I don’t anything left to bargain with!”
Sam’s eyes sparkled with a mix of unshed tears and pure anger.
“You bastard,” he hissed. “You’re not the only fucking one here that doesn’t want to live without the other Dean. You wouldn’t stop at anything to bring me back what the Hell makes you think I’m not gonna do the same damn thing. Screw you and this damn martyr self-sacrificing thing you’ve got going. I used to blame Dad for it, now I just don’t know what to think, but goddamnit you’re not worth less than anyone else! You’re not worth less than me!” he said, voice breaking unwillingly as he tried to hold onto his anger. Anger that burned bright and hot and was so much easier to hold onto than the cold dread and sorrow that threatened to drown him, his anger was like a life raft.
“I don’t regret for a second what I did Dean, and I’d sure as Hell do it again. You told me she said if you tried to get yourself out of the deal I would die, she said nothing about me!”
“You’re going to gamble your life over semantics?!”
“Shut up both of you,” Casey’s voice sliced through the tension, the anger and frustration in her own voice causing both boys to freeze.
“First off what’s done is done. You may not like it but you know what, Sam didn’t like you saving my ass either so get over it. And yes, Dean he damn well should gamble his life over semantics because what she said is the same as a black and white legal document in our world. If she said you that does not in any way, shape or form include Sam or anyone else, which is her sloppy mistake, one that we can use to get your self-sacrificing ass out of this deal. Because you may be all ‘brave in the face of danger’ but I’ve been there Dean and I don’t want to go back and I don’t want you to go there period.”
Dean didn’t even have time to pull the air from his lungs to even start to voice his comeback when Casey held up her hand.
“Just shut up.”
Sam’s eyes shot between the two before collapsing on the end of his bed as the adrenaline pulsing through his veins started to throb and dissipate.
“Now Sam, did you get anything out of her?”
He inhaled sharply, eyes still red. “She said…she said she didn’t have the contract, that she was just the sales woman.”
“Did you ask her who had it?”
“Yea, but she wouldn’t tell me.”
Casey sighed, “Okay, we’ll just keep looking.”
“Here,” she said, pulling some cash out of her back pocket, “Go get us some dinner…and some drinks Dean, preferably death on a plate with liquid fire to follow it.”
He couldn’t help but smile, reaching out and taking the cash. “Grease and high test alcohol, got it.”
He was just about to go through the door when he paused.
“Sam…”
“Me too.”
He nodded with a sad smile before disappearing back outside.
Chapter Notes: Action and fighting! whoo!
Fuller's Cross is actually a name of a road out by my brother's house. I noticed it last time we went out there and just thought it sounded cool. *shrugs*
This is the demon:
Don't ask me why I needed to have a damn picture of her, not like I used it for anything.
And the contract being in someone else's hands would be that plot point I said I stole from Bedtime Stories.
Previous: Chapter Six | Next: Chapter Eight