Sam Winchester | Lucifer | Endverse (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endoftheverse) wrote2020-11-08 07:18 pm
endoftheverse) wrote2020-11-08 07:18 pm
Deerington Inbox.
[A general automated voicemail plays.]
[A general automated voicemail plays.]
[A general automated voicemail plays.]
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He pinches the bridge of his nose, takes in a deep breath. He remembers that motel room, the young woman he met with Sam when he and Bobby went to seek Sam out. He remembers Sam going out at night for 'burgers' and deciding to tackle the Castiel problem with Bobby, explaining it away as grabbing some beers to Sam in response. He had his suspicions then, but nothing like Sam drinking actual demon blood.
This is too much, he thinks. Too goddamn much.
Especially when Sam starts talking about John, about Dad. About him knowing before anyone, about not handling it soon enough.]
Shit, Sam. I don't even know where to start. It's all bad. Ruby? And demon blood? Sam, Jesus.
[He rubs a hand across his mouth, unsure how to unpack everything Sam's just told him. He doesn't know if he can even unpack half of that, frankly.
He lets out a long, low sigh.]
Dad made a lot of mistakes, Sam. But it wasn't his job to handle you. You're his son. He should have tried to help you; to save you.
[And so should I, he thinks to himself. As the older brother, it's always been his job to look out for Sammy. And he can't even do that right, twenty odd years later.]
Look, I'm not saying I'm not pissed. 'Cause you're goddamn right I'm angry. Not only a demon, but Ruby?
[He sighs again, reluctantly brings himself to look at Sam. He remembers John saying he might need to kill his own brother, right before John died. He remembers that instruction, and he hates it just as much now as when he heard it the first time.]
But I'll be damned again if I try following what Dad wanted me to do. I don't know how I can help you with the Devil, but I'm not going to lose you to that bastard, not if I can help it.
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For a moment, it seems like Sam's retreated into himself, though. He's quiet, and there's a hush that falls over them. Eventually, the thoughts are sifted through, like ash, and Lucifer is quiet and still in his rib-cage, and Sam can think.]
... Ruby was one of the only people around to help me. If she weren't there, you would've come back and I'd have been dead, honestly. [He shrugs, watching the lake warily.] I guess... I thought she could have been different. That it wasn't what you are, but what you do with it...
[He clenches his fingers on his arm in a vice grip, disgust coursing through his body. There are so many things he'd never admitted, so many things he was scared would turn his brother against him. Isn't it too late now? It's all over. He's fucked. He's a murderer, an angel's skin. But this Dean... still has a chance, at least. Might be the only chance he's got.]
Some monsters are good, right? Some ghosts are good. And sometimes, people like me are good. That's what I thought, anyway. I had powers people thought were evil, powers I would've been hunted for without a second glance. You'd said it yourself, but it's not like I didn't know.
But... I was saving people. A lot of people, from demons, all with this horrible thing inside me. And even though it meant feeling more like a monster, I thought I was at least a good monster.
[He looks at Dean.]
If I couldn't trust Ruby because she was a demon, how the hell was I supposed to be trusted, too? I've been some kind of fucked-up hybrid since I was a baby. I've always felt like I was dirty, since before I can even remember; I've just always known. Maybe it's why I wanted to trust her so much. I don't know.
I guess it doesn't really matter. Maybe I'm just making excuses.
[He combs a hand through his hair.]
... I just... I wonder how long it took for Dad to see it, too. When I was a kid. That there was something off with me. How long did he know? When did he realize something wasn't right about me? Maybe I'm not much better than Ruby was, at the end of the day.
[He scoffs, humorless.]
I guess what I'm saying is, I wish you'd throw me into a ditch and forget about me... but I'm really glad you haven't.
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He lets out a bitter, choked out sort of laughter.] They always say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
[I thought I was at least a good monster, Sam says, and damn if that doesn't crash into Dean like a freight truck. Sam's always been the more open-minded of the two of them; Sam has always been the more empathetic, the more compassionate. And Dean loves him for it; loves his brother for being the kind of good Dean could never be, can never be, now, after Hell. He always worried about Sam getting himself into trouble because of it, and, now, here they are.
Dean closes his eyes and opens them. He doesn't really have any good answers to give; all he has is Sam here with him, and the chance to move forward, even if all it ends up being is moving forward stuck in the same old mess. But damn it if Dean isn't going to let the past dictate how he reacts.]
I don't have any answers for you Sam. Not easy ones, at least. This is all so fucked, even for us.
[He lets out another low breath.] After everything, I'm the last person who should be judging anyone on who they're better than or not. Maybe, at the end of the day, we're all just fucked up messes, trying to make it through the day without fucking up too badly.
[He turns to face Sam, to watch him, refusing to let his memory of his recent conversation with Lucifer taint him getting to talk with his baby brother.] I would never let myself throw you in a ditch, Sam. You're my brother and I will always fight for you, Hell or highwater. Literally, in this case.
[He tries to crack something of a smile, to at least attempt to lighten the mood, somewhat.]
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... It goes both ways. I'll fight for you, too.
I know I, uh... I suck at succeeding. At helping you when you need it most. But I promise, I've always tried. I'll always try to make it all up to you. For Hell, and for the mistakes I've made... for making anything harder than it needed to be.
I know it's a little too late to be a better brother back home, but. It's not too late in your time. And it's not too late here. So...
I'll try to be around more, as long as I'm — safe to be around, I mean.
[Boy, they sure are sappy today.]
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He's just grateful to get to connect to Sam without the devil between them in the wake of that last dream he had.] Deerington's got it's share of faults, but this ain't one of them.
You look out for me, I'll look out for you works for me.
Feel like grabbing a bite to eat? I feel like coffee or something. Walking just makes me want to stuff my face more.
[It's an olive branch, a chance to move past the nightmare of Lucifer's continued presence in Sam. It's not going to fix anything but they can at least enjoy themselves, if only for a minute.]
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... I've been trying to stay away from the town. I mean, I don't know if I'm safe to be around.
[But. But coffee and food sounds nice, for once. He's been pretty bad at actually keeping himself fed, especially when he's still getting used to having to eat on his own again, and... and it sounds normal. Like something they'd have done before everything went to literal Hell.]