Haunted
Title: Haunted
Author: missyjack
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Words: 434
Spoilers: up to 2.01
Disclaimer: Everything is owned by some corporation which is not me.
Summary: Sam finds out that not all ghosts can be banished with iron or salt.
Sam knows about ghosts; he grew up with them. He knows that they are the spirits of the dead who can’t move on, the ones who are shackled to this mortal plane by their anger or vengeance or love.
John, Mary and Jess.
Father, mother, lover.
All dead because of him.
When he catches glimpses of his mother she looks sad, so sad. I’m sorry Sam Mary’s spirit had said, in the nursery where she died twice for him. I’m sorry he wanted to say, for bringing the Demon to you. And for hating you for not being there as I grew up. And for resenting that Dad and Dean shared a memory of you and I didn’t.
He heard Jess whispering his name, the way she used to breathe it in his ear with urgent need as she came. Why hadn’t he warned her? He’d always known that there was something not quite safe, something dangerous about being near him. He thought he’d left it behind with Dean and Dad when he ran off to college but it wasn’t something he could discard out the back of a rundown motel. It came with him and consumed Jess in its flames.
He would catch sight in a crowd of a broad back, or a half-turned head that made him mouth Dad. And sometimes their eyes would meet he saw a look in his father’s eyes that he nearly didn’t recognise because he’d never seen it there before. Fear.
He sees them now all day and all night; in his waking mind’s eye and in his sleep. Never in front of him, confronting him, but at the edge of his vision, just out of ear shot.
And then things get worse.
A wendigo takes on his father’s face, a vampire taunts him with Jess’ voice, a poltergeist bares her breast for him to suckle.
They are not banished by any ritual he can find. He draws an iron blade through the flesh of his palm and rubs in rock salt and still they are with him.
Tequila doesn’t banish them and sleeping pills can’t hold them at bay.
He tries to obliterate the visions and voices by fucking Dean with fierce intensity, but all he hears are the voices whispering You’ll kill him too.
Sam knows how to hunt and destroy things that are supernatural, but he doesn’t know how to fight these things that haunt him - the ghosts of his mind.
Author: missyjack
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Words: 434
Spoilers: up to 2.01
Disclaimer: Everything is owned by some corporation which is not me.
Summary: Sam finds out that not all ghosts can be banished with iron or salt.
Sam knows about ghosts; he grew up with them. He knows that they are the spirits of the dead who can’t move on, the ones who are shackled to this mortal plane by their anger or vengeance or love.
John, Mary and Jess.
Father, mother, lover.
All dead because of him.
When he catches glimpses of his mother she looks sad, so sad. I’m sorry Sam Mary’s spirit had said, in the nursery where she died twice for him. I’m sorry he wanted to say, for bringing the Demon to you. And for hating you for not being there as I grew up. And for resenting that Dad and Dean shared a memory of you and I didn’t.
He heard Jess whispering his name, the way she used to breathe it in his ear with urgent need as she came. Why hadn’t he warned her? He’d always known that there was something not quite safe, something dangerous about being near him. He thought he’d left it behind with Dean and Dad when he ran off to college but it wasn’t something he could discard out the back of a rundown motel. It came with him and consumed Jess in its flames.
He would catch sight in a crowd of a broad back, or a half-turned head that made him mouth Dad. And sometimes their eyes would meet he saw a look in his father’s eyes that he nearly didn’t recognise because he’d never seen it there before. Fear.
He sees them now all day and all night; in his waking mind’s eye and in his sleep. Never in front of him, confronting him, but at the edge of his vision, just out of ear shot.
And then things get worse.
A wendigo takes on his father’s face, a vampire taunts him with Jess’ voice, a poltergeist bares her breast for him to suckle.
They are not banished by any ritual he can find. He draws an iron blade through the flesh of his palm and rubs in rock salt and still they are with him.
Tequila doesn’t banish them and sleeping pills can’t hold them at bay.
He tries to obliterate the visions and voices by fucking Dean with fierce intensity, but all he hears are the voices whispering You’ll kill him too.
Sam knows how to hunt and destroy things that are supernatural, but he doesn’t know how to fight these things that haunt him - the ghosts of his mind.