A Shot in the Dark
Disclaimer: Being the property of their respective copyright holders, Supernatural, its characters or any other publicly recognizable names don’t belong to me in any way, shape or form. This was written for the sole purpose of entertainment, not monetary gain. No copyright infringement is intended.
~ Oh my, would the boys be in trouble if I had a say... Just one word: SFTCOL(AR)S
A/N: Muchísimas gracias to my twin sister twinchy for the beta! Plus, a huge thank you to Mikiya for the awesome banner.
First Published: 21/05/2009
Summary:
Sam stared unseeingly in front of him, his mood outside perfectly reflecting the darkness within, impenetrable and forsaken. Tag for 4.22, ‘Lucifer Rising’.
Word Count: 766
Spoilers: Spoilers for 4.22
Sam stared unseeingly in front of him, his mood outside perfectly reflecting the darkness within, impenetrable and forsaken. His only hope and consolation lay softly snoring on the bed at the far end of the motel room. With a fond smile Sam remembered Dean stubbornly claiming his bed by the door, once again willing to stand unwaveringly between the entranceway and any threat to his little brother that might come through, be it angel or demon or anything in between.
‘If he had the slightest idea how much of a monster I have become, he would have painted a devil’s trap in the dust beneath my bed.’ The fact that the youngest Winchester was now seated at the small table in the back was testament to Dean’s negligence and a trust in his baby brother he didn’t deserve. A stray tear escaped the young hunter’s eye. Dripping down unnoticed, it mingled with the clear liquid in the glass.
Just as much as when he had filled it from one of the flasks seemingly hours ago, his hand trembled when he reached for the shot glass on the table. Holy water. A mere inch away from touching the glass, Sam hesitated, withdrawing his fingers fearfully, postponing the inevitable yet again.
He needed to know, yet John’s youngest was obviously a coward when it came to owning up to what he had turned himself into. And it wasn’t even the blood as Ruby had so gleefully explained. There was no one to put the blame on but himself. Everything was his fault. In the angels’ opinion he might have already been a lost cause solely for the demon blood Azazel had fed him with when he was only a baby, but he had made sure to condemn himself thoroughly through his actions as well. ‘Nothing pure left in me to hope for salvation.’ The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Sam finally understood the crushing weight of that saying in its entirety.
Worst of all, the young man wasn’t even confident his intentions had been all that good to begin with. Sure, he wanted to save the world, and above all, wanted to save his brother. Yet, weren’t those nothing but petty attempts to redeem himself, so he could convince God and the angels that his tainted soul was actually worth saving?
‘Bang-up job, Sammy! Releasing Lucifer is certainly the way to prove where you belong.’ And damn, if the voice in his head didn’t sound like Dad.
‘If you can’t save him, kill him.’ John Winchester’s final warning, his final order. Now, if the magnitude of how changed he felt was anything to go by, Sam was way past saving.
Moreover, he had never expected to see another day after exacting his revenge on Lilith. He had always firmly believed he would sacrifice himself body and soul and be done with it. He wanted to take all his shame and guilt and let his punishment begin already. With Lucifer set free, however, because of him, he owed it to the people he had put in danger to protect them as best he could.
But first he had to make sure Sam Winchester wasn’t one of the monsters he should protect humanity from. There were really no two ways about it: he needed to know whether he could still pass over a devil’s trap, whether he was affected by holy water, or if he was fair game whenever an exorcism ritual was read aloud. Nervously he caressed the outline of the blade on the table next to the glass.
Any true demon will flinch at the name of Christ. After having met His angels, he wasn’t so sure whether he wouldn’t do that anyway by now.
Suddenly the bed sheets behind him rustled ever so lightly, and Sam realized he hadn’t paid any attention to his big brother’s snoring during his frantic musings. “Stop crying into your pillow, Sammy. Get some sleep. It’s still a long way to South Dakota.” Dean sounded a little exasperated but his voice was laced with an amount of affection Sam hadn’t heard in months. It actually sounded so much like the Dean he knew all his life, he had to choke back a desperate sob of joy.
If the test went like he feared... if he were forced to use Ruby’s knife... What would Dean think of him? Would he feel betrayed or proud? Deep inside Sam knew the answer.
Deliberately he took one final breath, gathering all of his courage. He closed his eyes and knocked back the shot.
FIN
.
~ Oh my, would the boys be in trouble if I had a say... Just one word: SFTCOL(AR)S
A/N: Muchísimas gracias to my twin sister twinchy for the beta! Plus, a huge thank you to Mikiya for the awesome banner.
First Published: 21/05/2009
Summary:
Sam stared unseeingly in front of him, his mood outside perfectly reflecting the darkness within, impenetrable and forsaken. Tag for 4.22, ‘Lucifer Rising’.
Word Count: 766
Spoilers: Spoilers for 4.22
Sam stared unseeingly in front of him, his mood outside perfectly reflecting the darkness within, impenetrable and forsaken. His only hope and consolation lay softly snoring on the bed at the far end of the motel room. With a fond smile Sam remembered Dean stubbornly claiming his bed by the door, once again willing to stand unwaveringly between the entranceway and any threat to his little brother that might come through, be it angel or demon or anything in between.
‘If he had the slightest idea how much of a monster I have become, he would have painted a devil’s trap in the dust beneath my bed.’ The fact that the youngest Winchester was now seated at the small table in the back was testament to Dean’s negligence and a trust in his baby brother he didn’t deserve. A stray tear escaped the young hunter’s eye. Dripping down unnoticed, it mingled with the clear liquid in the glass.
Just as much as when he had filled it from one of the flasks seemingly hours ago, his hand trembled when he reached for the shot glass on the table. Holy water. A mere inch away from touching the glass, Sam hesitated, withdrawing his fingers fearfully, postponing the inevitable yet again.
He needed to know, yet John’s youngest was obviously a coward when it came to owning up to what he had turned himself into. And it wasn’t even the blood as Ruby had so gleefully explained. There was no one to put the blame on but himself. Everything was his fault. In the angels’ opinion he might have already been a lost cause solely for the demon blood Azazel had fed him with when he was only a baby, but he had made sure to condemn himself thoroughly through his actions as well. ‘Nothing pure left in me to hope for salvation.’ The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Sam finally understood the crushing weight of that saying in its entirety.
Worst of all, the young man wasn’t even confident his intentions had been all that good to begin with. Sure, he wanted to save the world, and above all, wanted to save his brother. Yet, weren’t those nothing but petty attempts to redeem himself, so he could convince God and the angels that his tainted soul was actually worth saving?
‘Bang-up job, Sammy! Releasing Lucifer is certainly the way to prove where you belong.’ And damn, if the voice in his head didn’t sound like Dad.
‘If you can’t save him, kill him.’ John Winchester’s final warning, his final order. Now, if the magnitude of how changed he felt was anything to go by, Sam was way past saving.
Moreover, he had never expected to see another day after exacting his revenge on Lilith. He had always firmly believed he would sacrifice himself body and soul and be done with it. He wanted to take all his shame and guilt and let his punishment begin already. With Lucifer set free, however, because of him, he owed it to the people he had put in danger to protect them as best he could.
But first he had to make sure Sam Winchester wasn’t one of the monsters he should protect humanity from. There were really no two ways about it: he needed to know whether he could still pass over a devil’s trap, whether he was affected by holy water, or if he was fair game whenever an exorcism ritual was read aloud. Nervously he caressed the outline of the blade on the table next to the glass.
Any true demon will flinch at the name of Christ. After having met His angels, he wasn’t so sure whether he wouldn’t do that anyway by now.
Suddenly the bed sheets behind him rustled ever so lightly, and Sam realized he hadn’t paid any attention to his big brother’s snoring during his frantic musings. “Stop crying into your pillow, Sammy. Get some sleep. It’s still a long way to South Dakota.” Dean sounded a little exasperated but his voice was laced with an amount of affection Sam hadn’t heard in months. It actually sounded so much like the Dean he knew all his life, he had to choke back a desperate sob of joy.
If the test went like he feared... if he were forced to use Ruby’s knife... What would Dean think of him? Would he feel betrayed or proud? Deep inside Sam knew the answer.
Deliberately he took one final breath, gathering all of his courage. He closed his eyes and knocked back the shot.
FIN
.