The Boy King’s Crossroad
Title: The Boy King’s Crossroad
Author: Tahirire
Word count: 1,185
Rating: PG -13
Characters: Sam, Castiel
Spoilers: Eh. Vague Lazarus Rising, I guess
Genre: Future fic
Disclaimer: Kripke owns the boys, my soul, and most of my brain. I own nothing useful. :-)
Beta: lotr_lemmy and maychorian , although I changed a lot this last pass - what can I say, I'm ADD like that. ;-)
A/N: If this scene seems ... familiar ... then it's because it is. ;-)
The Boy King’s Crossroad
The first thing Sam noticed was that he didn’t hurt anywhere. Shifting his muscles gently, he made some observations. First, he wasn’t lying in the dirt anymore, and second, everything around him was mercifully silent.
Sam’s eyes fluttered open hesitantly, and he cringed back from the bright wash of light overhead. He focused instead on his hands, flexing his fingers close to his face in awe.
They were clean. No traces of blood remained.
He sat up slowly, expecting to be shaky but pleasantly surprised at the strength flowing easily through his muscles. He was sitting on a bench. He appeared to be at a bus stop, but the thick light obscured the area around him.
He wasn’t alarmed that he didn’t know where he was.
Everything just seemed … to be.
Sam focused harder on his surroundings, and slowly the light began to recede. Little by little, he was able to make out glimpses of blue sky, catch the scent of fresh grass on the air.
As he looked, a sudden sound penetrated the quiet solitude. It was a low and rolling sound, almost a non-sound; more bass and timbre than noise, and it sent shivering chills through his stomach and chest. It seemed far away, and when he turned to seek the source, all he could make out was a shadow - a stain that marred the beauty of the light.
The shadow flickered as though it was trying to fight its way through the light to Sam. He could feel its beckoning call singing through his veins, pulling at his blood. He backed away, pressing harder into the solid seat back of the bench. “No,” he whispered. “I won’t come with you.”
“Do not be afraid. It can not harm you anymore.”
A wave of calm washed through Sam at the words. He didn’t have to turn to know the speaker. His concern melted into curiosity. “What is it?”
“That is the taint of Azazel’s evil. It is no longer a concern for you. Your blood has been … cleansed.” The angel’s voice was hard, heated anger crackling in his words, and as he spoke them, the shadow disappeared.
The words rang with truth; a declaration, and Sam smiled. He felt lighter than he had in years - maybe in his whole life. He looked to Castiel gratefully, imploring. “Does this mean the powers are gone? Am I …?” safe. Whole. Human.
Castiel placed a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder, and his grip was as firm as his words. “The power is yours, Sam. It always was yours to command as you wished.”
Sam tilted his head to the side, trying to understand. His memories of loneliness, of the shame and rejection that came with the power were distant and fading fast, too slippery to hold. Only the facts remained.
“Am I dead?” He whispered.
“Where do you think you are?”
Sam squinted, looking through the light. Shapes of trees and open stretches of road reached out before him in all directions, heading to the four corners of … anywhere. “At a crossroads.” he answered. The chill he waited for at the thought never came.
“Then the choice is yours to decide which way to go.” Castiel moved back, but his steady gaze never left Sam’s face, and Sam fidgeted under his intense scrutiny.
The long path ahead of Sam stretched into the light itself, and on the gentle breeze he heard whispers, voices of loved ones calling, leading him to come and rest. Peace, they sighed. Son, come. Peace. God, he was so tired.
Sam closed his eyes, feeling the voices in his heart, in his very soul. Yes, that, he thought.
“You fear returning.” Not a question.
Flashes of images of the confrontation flowed unbidden across Sam’s mind.
His power being the only thing holding the perimeter. Watching Dean sleep, sheer exhaustion etching lines into his skin. Deciding not to wake him to say goodbye. Lilith’s cruel smile at his sacrificial offer. Fire, always fire, consuming him inside and out. Blood.
Sam’s closed eyes filled with liquid, bubbling up until the tears began to break free and slip away. “It doesn’t hurt here,” he whispered.
But …
When he opened them again, the angel’s usually somber eyes were full of pride, and a sorrowed smile played at the edges of his lips.
“If I go back, can I stop her? Can I stop Lilith?”
Castiel’s expression grew thoughtful. “I think that you may yet be able to accomplish what we could not.”
Sam bit his lip, studying the wide blue sky. “But … what if I fail?”
“Sam,” the angel intoned gravely, “do you truly fear returning to this place?”
Sam swallowed hard as he shook his head.
“Azazel was my brother before he fell.” Castiel declared. “The power you received from him grants you the strength of the Hosts of Heaven and the darkness of a demon both. There has never before been one like you, Sam Winchester. Truly.” The angel’s voice was firm, and his power tingled electric in the air as he willed Sam to believe. “You can win this fight.”
Sam let the words flow over him. “Is that why I didn’t … is that why I have a choice? I didn’t die because of some kind of … angelic immunity?”
Castiel‘s infinite blue eyes were deep with regret, and he slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Then how?”
The angel turned to stare into the light. “Your brother gave his life for you. He traded his soul for yours. My Father says that there is no greater love.”
Sam shivered.
“The strength of his sacrifice protects you even now. It goes far deeper than deals and demons. It binds you together, soul to soul. Sam, I am sorry.” Castiel said, locking Sam’s gaze, “I wished to pull him out sooner, but the sacrifice had to be complete. He had to give it all.”
“To protect me.”
The angel’s eyes narrowed minutely. “Yes.”
Sam drew a shaky breath. Every time he thought he understood the depth of what Dean had done for him, he learned something new. Usually the revelations left him staggering with guilt, but this time …
“So that I can kill Lilith.” Sam said, forming the words carefully, weighing them to see how they felt.
“Yes.”
Sam breathed the fresh air, looked at the blue sky, felt the warmth of the inviting glow on his skin, and smiled. “None of this is real, is it? It’s all in my mind.”
Castiel tipped his head to the side, his furrowed brow lending him a puzzled expression. “Of course it is in your mind. But why would that mean it is not real?”
Sam sighed as he closed his eyes. He felt the light and warmth fade away slowly, and with its retreat, he felt the sharp return of pain. Dimly, he heard his brother call his name.
The golden voices beckoned from the celestial crossroad, but Sam turned his face away. It wasn’t his time - and he had work to do.
Author: Tahirire
Word count: 1,185
Rating: PG -13
Characters: Sam, Castiel
Spoilers: Eh. Vague Lazarus Rising, I guess
Genre: Future fic
Disclaimer: Kripke owns the boys, my soul, and most of my brain. I own nothing useful. :-)
Beta: lotr_lemmy and maychorian , although I changed a lot this last pass - what can I say, I'm ADD like that. ;-)
A/N: If this scene seems ... familiar ... then it's because it is. ;-)
The Boy King’s Crossroad
The first thing Sam noticed was that he didn’t hurt anywhere. Shifting his muscles gently, he made some observations. First, he wasn’t lying in the dirt anymore, and second, everything around him was mercifully silent.
Sam’s eyes fluttered open hesitantly, and he cringed back from the bright wash of light overhead. He focused instead on his hands, flexing his fingers close to his face in awe.
They were clean. No traces of blood remained.
He sat up slowly, expecting to be shaky but pleasantly surprised at the strength flowing easily through his muscles. He was sitting on a bench. He appeared to be at a bus stop, but the thick light obscured the area around him.
He wasn’t alarmed that he didn’t know where he was.
Everything just seemed … to be.
Sam focused harder on his surroundings, and slowly the light began to recede. Little by little, he was able to make out glimpses of blue sky, catch the scent of fresh grass on the air.
As he looked, a sudden sound penetrated the quiet solitude. It was a low and rolling sound, almost a non-sound; more bass and timbre than noise, and it sent shivering chills through his stomach and chest. It seemed far away, and when he turned to seek the source, all he could make out was a shadow - a stain that marred the beauty of the light.
The shadow flickered as though it was trying to fight its way through the light to Sam. He could feel its beckoning call singing through his veins, pulling at his blood. He backed away, pressing harder into the solid seat back of the bench. “No,” he whispered. “I won’t come with you.”
“Do not be afraid. It can not harm you anymore.”
A wave of calm washed through Sam at the words. He didn’t have to turn to know the speaker. His concern melted into curiosity. “What is it?”
“That is the taint of Azazel’s evil. It is no longer a concern for you. Your blood has been … cleansed.” The angel’s voice was hard, heated anger crackling in his words, and as he spoke them, the shadow disappeared.
The words rang with truth; a declaration, and Sam smiled. He felt lighter than he had in years - maybe in his whole life. He looked to Castiel gratefully, imploring. “Does this mean the powers are gone? Am I …?” safe. Whole. Human.
Castiel placed a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder, and his grip was as firm as his words. “The power is yours, Sam. It always was yours to command as you wished.”
Sam tilted his head to the side, trying to understand. His memories of loneliness, of the shame and rejection that came with the power were distant and fading fast, too slippery to hold. Only the facts remained.
“Am I dead?” He whispered.
“Where do you think you are?”
Sam squinted, looking through the light. Shapes of trees and open stretches of road reached out before him in all directions, heading to the four corners of … anywhere. “At a crossroads.” he answered. The chill he waited for at the thought never came.
“Then the choice is yours to decide which way to go.” Castiel moved back, but his steady gaze never left Sam’s face, and Sam fidgeted under his intense scrutiny.
The long path ahead of Sam stretched into the light itself, and on the gentle breeze he heard whispers, voices of loved ones calling, leading him to come and rest. Peace, they sighed. Son, come. Peace. God, he was so tired.
Sam closed his eyes, feeling the voices in his heart, in his very soul. Yes, that, he thought.
“You fear returning.” Not a question.
Flashes of images of the confrontation flowed unbidden across Sam’s mind.
His power being the only thing holding the perimeter. Watching Dean sleep, sheer exhaustion etching lines into his skin. Deciding not to wake him to say goodbye. Lilith’s cruel smile at his sacrificial offer. Fire, always fire, consuming him inside and out. Blood.
Sam’s closed eyes filled with liquid, bubbling up until the tears began to break free and slip away. “It doesn’t hurt here,” he whispered.
But …
When he opened them again, the angel’s usually somber eyes were full of pride, and a sorrowed smile played at the edges of his lips.
“If I go back, can I stop her? Can I stop Lilith?”
Castiel’s expression grew thoughtful. “I think that you may yet be able to accomplish what we could not.”
Sam bit his lip, studying the wide blue sky. “But … what if I fail?”
“Sam,” the angel intoned gravely, “do you truly fear returning to this place?”
Sam swallowed hard as he shook his head.
“Azazel was my brother before he fell.” Castiel declared. “The power you received from him grants you the strength of the Hosts of Heaven and the darkness of a demon both. There has never before been one like you, Sam Winchester. Truly.” The angel’s voice was firm, and his power tingled electric in the air as he willed Sam to believe. “You can win this fight.”
Sam let the words flow over him. “Is that why I didn’t … is that why I have a choice? I didn’t die because of some kind of … angelic immunity?”
Castiel‘s infinite blue eyes were deep with regret, and he slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Then how?”
The angel turned to stare into the light. “Your brother gave his life for you. He traded his soul for yours. My Father says that there is no greater love.”
Sam shivered.
“The strength of his sacrifice protects you even now. It goes far deeper than deals and demons. It binds you together, soul to soul. Sam, I am sorry.” Castiel said, locking Sam’s gaze, “I wished to pull him out sooner, but the sacrifice had to be complete. He had to give it all.”
“To protect me.”
The angel’s eyes narrowed minutely. “Yes.”
Sam drew a shaky breath. Every time he thought he understood the depth of what Dean had done for him, he learned something new. Usually the revelations left him staggering with guilt, but this time …
“So that I can kill Lilith.” Sam said, forming the words carefully, weighing them to see how they felt.
“Yes.”
Sam breathed the fresh air, looked at the blue sky, felt the warmth of the inviting glow on his skin, and smiled. “None of this is real, is it? It’s all in my mind.”
Castiel tipped his head to the side, his furrowed brow lending him a puzzled expression. “Of course it is in your mind. But why would that mean it is not real?”
Sam sighed as he closed his eyes. He felt the light and warmth fade away slowly, and with its retreat, he felt the sharp return of pain. Dimly, he heard his brother call his name.
The golden voices beckoned from the celestial crossroad, but Sam turned his face away. It wasn’t his time - and he had work to do.