Can't Pull the Trigger
Sam thought he was a goner. He was sure that this was the end. He was going to die in an empty room, trying to save a man who wouldn't even try to undo his own bindings. I should've just left him, Sam thought, in hindsight. I should have just made a run for it.But he knew that he would never have done that. He would have never left this guy to die the horrible death he was about to face.
He thought about Dean. His brothers eyes full of life, his enigmatic smile. And then he thought about Dean, finding him, much too late, in this room. He imagined his zombified body, his rotting flesh and bloody teeth. Dean would have to find him like that. He would have to shoot him- one bullet to the brain, to make sure Sam didn't kill anyone unlucky enough to come across him. But Dean wouldn't do that. Sam wasn't sure what Dean would do.
But Dean had Megan, now. He wouldn't be alone. His big brother would be alright.
Sam didn't notice right away that Jake had, in fact, ripped off his bindings. When he saw Sam break free, he began tugging and pulling at the rope on his wrists, and in the time it took from Sam to save his ass, and subsequently get attacked himself, Jake managed to free himself.
He leaped forward out of his chair and into Sam. The two of them and the zombie attacking Sam collapsed onto the crawling zombie. Sam felt his elbow dig into it's flesh, and once again he thought about puking. The force of Jake running into them stunned the zombies momentarily, and Sam took the opportunity to reach for Jake's chair. He grabbed the leg of it and swung it at the nearest undead bastard. He managed to knock it in the jaw, but it was still alive.
For a moment, Sam allowed himself to believe that he would make it out of here alive.
Jake crawled on top of one laying on the floor. He punched it over and over, bloodying his fists and arms.
Sam knelt beside the zombie, and held the chair above his head, ready to bash its brains in with it, when the third zombie came at him. It grabbed onto his shirt and dug it's teeth into his shoulder. Sam cried out in pain, letting the chair fall out of his grasp. He could feel his heartbeat racing, and the blood pouring out of his shoulder, dripping down his shirt.
He vaguely felt Jake pull the zombie off of him, and heard the sound of the chair cracking open its skull. Sam clutched at his shoulder, trying to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding. It was doing him no good, though. The blood kept coming, pooling onto the floor as he slumped forward, and Sam felt the world around him begin to fade.
Jake took care of the last zombie before examining Sam from a distance. It was clear that he was bit, and if he was bit he was a dead man. He knew he had won. The yellow-eyed man said that only one could survive, and Sam was going to die shortly. He wouldn't even have to kill him, like he had the other children. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that what he had done was wrong. But this was a different time. This was the end of times, and the rules had changed. It was about survival, now. And damn it, he was going to survive.
He left Sam for dead, and went to the door. He turned the handle, but it was locked. He pushed on the door, trying to force it to move, but he knew it was useless. He could not leave until Sam was dead. The yellow-eyed man would not allow it.
Jake grabbed the bloody chair, and suppressed the tiny voice telling him to stop. He's dead already. It's only a matter of time. All I am doing is stopping themonster before he becomes one.
He raised the chair into the air, but before he could strike, a bullet shattered the window and pierced the wall behind him. A spit second later, a man jumped through the hole where the window was, and into the glass. He held up his gun straight at his head, and Jake was sure he was going to shoot him right there. Instead, his eyes dropped to Sam, who was right below him. Almost immediately the man's face fell, and his grip on the gun loosened.
Behind him, a woman crawled through the opening. "Oh my God..." She gasped, taking in the scene. Her eyes connected with Jake's, and then fell to Sam just like the mans. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out of it.
The man finally flicked his gaze back at Jake, his eyes now filled with rage. Jake recognized the look, and knew instantly what the man was going to do. He dropped the chair and turned to run, but he never got the chance. He heard the gunshot before he felt it.
Dean fell to his knees beside his brother. He didn't see the bodies on the floor. He didn't notice Megan standing behind him. He didn't think about the person he just killed, who was just a person. All he could see was Sam. "Sam! Sammy, what happened?" He dropped his gun and held Sam's face in his hands, latching himself onto his brother. He gently brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes, trying to get his attention. Sam wasn't responding, but his eyes connected with his brothers. Dean knew there was a lot of blood. He could feel it. He could smell it. He could see it. But he couldn't tell where it was coming from.
He patted Sam down, feeling the warm, sticky blood on his clothes and skin, until he felt it- his shoulder. "Sammy, can you hear me? Sammy, please, answer me!" Dean tore off Sam's jacket frantically and pulled his shirt down over his shoulder to expose the injury. No... no, it can't be.
He recognized the bite mark for what it was. He knew what that meant. Sam was bitten, and there was no stopping what was next.
He felt Sam's body shake beneath his hands. "It's alright, Sammy. It's okay, do you hear me?" Dean felt tears fall from his cheeks, but did nothing to stop them. "The-the bite isn't that bad, okay? I-I can fix it back at the hotel. You just gotta stick it out until then, alright?"
Sam's eyes were no longer looking at his big brother. They were hazy and staring off at nothing. His breathing was uneven, and Dean was afraid that it would stop suddenly. "Sammy, please," He whispered, wrapping his arms protectively around his brother. His baby brother, who he was supposed to protect. From everything. He was supposed to watch out for Sammy. He was supposed to save him. But he had failed.
He felt Sam go limp underneath him, and Dean knew his worst nightmare had come true. He pulled himself away, literally having to peel himself off his brother from all the blood. "Sammy?" His brothers eyes were closed, and he wasn't breathing. Dean gripped tighter onto his shirt. "SAM!"
Behind him, Megan stood still. Her face was moist from crying as she watched the Winchesters. As soon as she walked into the room, she knew Sam was bit. There were so many bodies. She watched silently as Dean shot the man with the chair.
She watched as Dean clung to Sam, and cried openly onto his shoulder. She wondered if Dean was even aware that she was there. She would have let him grieve in peace, but there was something more urgent, first.
Megan knelt beside him and put her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Dean?" She whispered.
Dean looked up with red eyes, and Megan would've given anything to fix this.
"Dean, I am so...so sorry," Her voice caught when she glanced at Sam's lifeless body. "Dean. He was bit. He's... he's going to turn."
Dean's eyes, which were usually filled with a myriad of different unreadable emotions all at once, were just sad. He nodded, slightly, acknowledging Megan's words. Without fully letting go of his brother, Dean stood, and so did Megan. "We're taking him back to the hotel."
Megan's eyes widened. "What? Dean..."
Dean shook his head before she could continue. "Don't argue with me. Not now." His voice was so broken, Megan couldn't help but accept.
"Okay, Dean... okay..."
Sam's body was laid out on the hotel bed.
Dean sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs beside the bed, and stared at him. His gaze never left his brother, even when Megan was in the room.
Megan was worried about Dean. She was deeply hurt by what happened to Sam, and she could only imagine how much worse it must have been for Dean. She recalled her conversation with Sam, where he told her about their dad. Dean had lost so many people, and she mourned for him. She knew Dean needed time, but he couldn't have it. It was only a matter of time before Sam woke up...except it wouldn't be Sam. It would be a thoughtless, remorseless monster that didn't care about anything except killing and eating. She didn't want Dean to be there for that.
"Dean, I know that you're-"
"No, you don't." Dean spoke evenly. "You don't know anything about me, right now, okay? Can you just leave, please?"
Megan's heart broke just a little bit more, but she didn't let up. "Dean, I'm sorry. You're right, I don't know what you are going through. But you and I both know what's going to happen... and I... I need to make sure it doesn't." The thought of taking that responsibility into her own hands was almost unbearable, but she knew she had to. Dean would never do it.
"I said, LEAVE!" Dean yelled, making Megan flinch. He didn't look up, but he heard her footsteps fade away, and the door close, gently.
When he knew she was gone, Dean put his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Sammy... I'm so sorry."
He didn't know how long he sat there like that, apologizing over and over to someone who wouldn't hear him. "This should have never happened. I... I was supposed to protect you, and I failed." He gulped down the raging emotions he felt. "I guess that's what I do, huh? I let down everyone that I love..."
He let his words hang in the air. Sam would never hear those words. He would never hear Dean again.
Dean could hear his fathers voice in his head. Since he had died, he had heard it a lot. But now it was much worse. What did I tell you, huh Dean? Watch out for Sammy. That was your job! Your one job, and you screwed it up! All you were good for was protecting him, and now what are you gonna do? Huh? What are you gonna do?
Dean stood, suddenly, casting a quick glance at Sam before rushing out the door. He knew what he was going to do. He was going to do his job.
Megan sat in the hallway and cried.
She cried silently for Sam. For Dean. For everyone still alive in this screwed up world. She cried until she couldn't anymore. Then she just sat with her knees close to her chest, her head resting on her knees, and waited.
She waited for Dean to come out. Or for a scream signifying the inevitable. Or a gunshot meaning it was over.
When Dean did come out, however, he did not seem to see her. He practically ran out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "Dean?" He didn't respond. He pushed through the front doors and disappeared. Megan stood up warily and followed him. Before she even reached the doors, she heard the car engine start. She got outside just in time to watch him drive away without even looking back.
Megan knew rationally that Dean just needed space. He just needed some time to himself to let out his anger and frustration and sorrow. Megan knew she needed that too, but something in the back of her mind told her he wasn't coming back.
He's leaving. For good. Without Sam he has no reason to stay.
Megan tried to shake off the feeling, and went back inside. She knew what she had to do. If Dean came back, he would be pissed, but maybe he wasn't coming back, anyway. Either way, she wasn't letting Sam become a zombie. She knew how much he feared becoming a monster, and she wouldn't let him become one.
She gripped onto her pistol, causing her knuckles to go white. When she creaked open the door and peered in, it almost looked like he was sleeping. His face was peaceful and calm yet pale void of life. She stopped when she was standing right beside him. "I'm so sorry, Sam." She whispered. She raised the gun. The end of it was just a few inches from his face. "I have to... you'd understand..."
She felt the trigger beneath her finger. Her whole body tensed in anticipation of the shot, but she couldn't pull the trigger. "Damn it!" She put the gun on the side table before completely falling apart. "Damn it Sam! I'm sorry. I was supposed tuh..." She was sobbing again. "I can't... I can't do it..." She knelt beside the bed and grabbed Sam's sleeve. She clenched her fingers around the fabric ad let her head fall onto his chest.
Her tears soaked his already bloodstained shirt as she weeped into him. "What are we going to do, Sam? Me and Dean... what are we gonna do without you?" Beneath her, she felt something move. She hushed herself and listened, and she heard a faint gurgling noise. She raised her head and let go of him. "Sam?" She whispered, her voice garbled with confusion and hope.
She was hoping to see Sam sit up, and open his hazel eyes and smile warmly at her. She wanted him to hold her and tell her that he was fine, that this was all some twisted dream.
She didn't get what she hoped for.
Sam's eyes shot open, but they were no longer full of life. They were glazed and hazy. He opened his mouth, but no reassuring words came out- just a low growl.
Realizing what had happened, Megan pushed herself away from Sam, falling back onto the carpet. "Oh no, Sam. Please..." He turned...
Sam rose slowly, and blankly stared at Megan. In that split second, Megan thought that maybe he recognized her. But as quickly as the idea came to mind, it was stuck down. Sam lunged at her- albeit, clumsily. Megan screamed and kicked at him as his nails scratched at her skin. He fell off the bed, landing on her legs. Megan tried to crawl away, but even dead Sam was stronger than her.
Megan saw the gun on the side table. I need to get to that gun...
Dean stood at the crossroads. He didn't have all the materials needed to summon a crossroads demon, but what he had he stuck in a small box and buried it. "Come on you son of a bitch," Dean yelled out, hoarsely. "You know why I'm here. And I know your all desperate a piece of this." He taunted, hoping that the demonic bounty on his head was enough to get the demon here on its own.
"Well, well, well. What a surprise- a Winchester trying to sell his soul." Dean turned at the sound of a woman's voice. The demon took the body of a pretty brunette woman. Her eyes were black pits as she stared at Dean. "I feel like I've seen this all before."
"Can you bring Sam back?" Dean cut to the point. "Well?"
"For a price," The demon cocked its head to the side, grinning evilly. "But I don't know why I would. I mean, do you really want to bring little Sammy back into this world? I mean, work is scarce these days. So little humans left; so few souls willing to sell."
Dean ignored her. "You bring Sam back, and I get 10 years. That's the deal."
The demon laughed. "10 years? You've got to be kidding me. Did you hear me? Times are tough for us all. I need souls, and I need them fast. Not 10 years from now."
Dean pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. "That's the deal you give everyone. I-"
The demon raised one eyebrow. "I'll give you one year." Before Dean could protest she raised her hand to stop him. "It's a better deal than your daddy ever got."
Dean crossed his arms, debating the demons offer. He wanted Sam back, oh God did he want him back, safe and sound. The thought of Sam as one of those undead monsters was too much, but the thought of having to shoot him was even worse.
"Fine, then. Have fun burying your brother, Winchester." The demon shrugged and turned, only making it two steps before Dean was calling her back.
Winchesters. She rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought."
Megan hooked her fingers into a fistful of his hair, and pulled his head upward, keeping his teeth as far away from her skin as possible. Sam grabbed at her, but she managed to get her legs free and run for the gun. Her hand reached out, Megan tripped in her hurry, but managed to snatch it on her way to the ground.
She turned and pointed the gun at his head once again, this time with a renewed sense of purpose. Sam twisted to see her, grasping at her thoughtlessly. "I'm sorry, Sam."
She was about to pull the trigger, when Sam suddenly stopped.
He stopped growling. His hands fell to his sides. His lifeless eyes narrowed as he stared straightforward. Then, abruptly, he gasped and began to convulse like he was having a seizure.
Megan, scared and bewildered, couldn't do anything but freeze where she was- curled up with both hands gripping the gun.
Sam stopped jolting and fell backwards into a heap, as still as he was before re-awaking.
Megan did not move. She didn't even blink as she kept Sam in her sight, waiting for something even more terrifying to happen. She wished for nothing more that for Dean to be here, now.
A moan escaped Sam's lips. His head hurt, but not as much as his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open and immediately recognized his surroundings as a hotel room. Like the hotel Dean and I are staying at until Dad gets back from his hunt.
No, that was a long time ago. That was years in the past. No, this hotel was like the one he, Dean, and Megan were calling home for the time being. But why was he on the floor?
He sat up, his right arm reaching for his left shoulder. There was a little blood, but it was dry, so the wound was old.
Only then did his eyes finally find Megan, shrunk back beside the bedside table, her eyes wide and her hands trembling around her gun. "Megan?" He put his hands up, gesturing that he meant no harm. "Megan, what happened? Are you okay?"
Megan's mouth opened and closed, and then opened again. "Sam?" Her voice was quiet and as shaky as she was. "Is that really you?"
Sam nodded, relief flooding his system as she lowered the gun. "Sam... you... you're alive!" She crawled forwards and wrapped her arms around him, sinking into the familiar embrace.
Sam rubbed her back, but his face was twisted in confusion. "Alive? Yeah, of course I'm alive..." He pulled away, holding her out so he could see her face.
"Why would I... Megan- what happened?"