Summary: Sam lied. He remembered so much more. Post All Hell Breaks Loose part 1
When Dean asked Sam what he remembered, Sam lied.
Sam looked at his brother's face, noting his ashen appearance, wrinkled clothing, bloodshot eyes and the way his bottom lip seemed to tremble without his own noticing. He thought about how tightly Dean had hugged him, fingers grasping his shirt like they'd never let go.
He didn't think Dean would be able to handle hearing every detail, thought that perhaps his brother would simply crumple if he knew everything. He had never seen him look so…so…
"There was this pain, white hot, ya know? Then I saw you running at me, then nothing…"
Sam lied. He remembered so much more.
The first thing he recalled was the relief. Dean had come, he had come and Sam wasn't alone anymore. He had survived long enough for his brother to find him, and everything was going to work out. They'd bury Andy, deal with Jake, kill the demon…everything would be fine because Dean wasn't dead, he was here.
Relief hadn't lasted long.
Sam could still hear Dean's scream, ringing through his ears like a drumbeat. The warning shout, the scream of denial…and the searing hot pain that had come almost simultaneously with it.
He remembered the sensation of the knife turning cruelly in his back before being wrenched out. The feeling of numbness spreading throughout his suddenly useless legs had come quickly thereafter.
He could still feel the rain on his face when his body had trembled, his back arching in retaliation to the fatal stab wound. His descent downwards had been gradual; the muddy ground had seemed so far away.
He knew that his face had never impacted with the mud. He had been on his knees, his body slumping forwards…out of his control, and Sam remembered Dean
Sam recalled the squishing of his brother's boots as he rushed forwards, crying out his name in denial. He remembered the anguish in the older mans voice, felt the calloused hands on his paling cheeks, the hot breath on his cold face.
Heard the pleading words.
Heard the pledge to make him all better.
Saw the desperate, terrified face.
Recalled how Dean had placed a hesitant hand on the wound, muttering to himself all the while.
He had been able to taste the blood climbing up his throat, had felt it fill his mouth.
His vision had gone blurry, the pain had fled his body, and the numbness had spread. He remembered feeling sad as reality had hit him. Sam had known (or, it seemed, had thought) he was dying, and the thought of leaving Dean alone had been overwhelming for those last handful of seconds.
Sam remembered breathing in leather and gun oil when his head had come to a rest on his big brothers shoulder. He had wanted to say something, anything…but his throat was paralyzed. The darkness had come fairly quickly, and he remembered his brother shaking.
He had heard Dean wail his name one last time, the sound heart wrenching and broken.
Finally, Sam remembered his last thought.
Then there had been nothing.
Sam blinked away the memories and glanced up at his brother again. He looked into the overly bright green eyes and whispered, "…and that's it until I woke up here."
When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,speaking words of wisdom, let it be.And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,speaking words of wisdom, let it be.t it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,there will be an answer, let it be.For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,there will be an answer. le
Let it be, let it be…
And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me,shine until tomorrow, let it be.I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be…
Song might not really go along with the fiction (which is why I put it at the end), but it was what put me in the mood to write this! I do like the "…let it be…" part for this story though. : )
This is much different than what I'm used to writing. I hope it didn't seem repetitive. Comments get cookies! Virtual ones of course…
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