Warnings: [Highlight to read] suicide attempt, dark themes, crying, spoilers for Death's Door, schmoop
A/N: I wanted to write something for Death's Door, and I really wanted to explore Sam's mental state and where he was at. We saw a glimpse with the hand thing but I wanted to explore more and delve more into it. The crappy banner was made by myself lol
Summary: Despite Sam's strong facade, he isn't handling things very well.
Sam rubs at his palm and hopes this isn't real.
Hopes that this is one of Lucifer's sick tricks or maybe he's back in the pit with Lucifer and Michael, as they laugh at him freaking out over Dean getting stabbed to death or Bobby being burnt alive.
He wouldn't put it past Lucifer, the greatest torture were the voids where Sam didn't know what was real or not. Where Lucifer would make him see images of Dean dying or Bobby being mutilated.
This has to be a dream, a sick twisted dream. But as he rubs at his palm everything stays the same. He's still sitting in a hospital with Bobby fighting for his life and Dean outside about to lose his mind.
He should go find his brother. Not just sit here and wish for something that's a pipe dream but he doesn't have the energy to move.
Grief begins to clog his body until even opening his eyes is a chore. His body slumps into the small plastic seat until he's slouched over.
Lucifer is sitting right next to him, whispering things Sam doesn't even want to acknowledge or contemplate. So he sits with his hand still encased in his other one, trying to press down on it and elicit some response, anything.
Nothing happens though and, as his mind closes down, all he can do is stare at the wall with glassy eyes as Lucifer bends over and laughs softly in his face.
“Told you everyone would leave you eventually. You couldn't save your mom or Jessica, couldn't save your dad, couldn't save precious Adam or Castiel, you sure as hell couldn't save your brother and now you can't save Bobby.”
Sam shudders and feels a tear leak slowly down his cheek, falling off his chin and wetting his shirt.
He's right....Sam thinks. I can't save anyone. I never could.
Maybe he is back in the pit and this is all just one big dream like Lucifer said, and he never escaped. Because Sam can't think of a worse torture than slowly watching your loved ones slip through your hands and die.
“Your fault Sammy, all your fault.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep shaky breath. He's overcome with sadness, deep sadness that constricts his heart. He mechanically gets up and politely asks the nurse for a pencil and some paper.
The nurse smiles but Sam doesn't have the energy to smile back. He scribbles a quick message on the paper and folds it carefully.
“Please, can you give this to my brother Dean?” Sam asks in a shaky voice.
The nurse seems confused at first but she reaches out and takes the note from his shaky grasp.
After she's done putting it away she looks up to try and find the young man but he's already gone.
When Dean comes back inside and Sam doesn't even look at him, he takes it as Sam's way of coping and doesn't say anything. He makes his way to the hospital’s cafeteria and buys himself another cup of horrible coffee, still trying to cool his temper, not realizing that Sam's in worse trouble than Bobby is at the moment.
Sam doesn't know how he found his way here. Close to the hospital is a beautiful park that has numerous trails and hikes for people to enjoy. At the end of a popular trail is a huge cliff with a breath-taking view of the mountains and jagged earth below.
Sam walks the trail, not seeing the natural beauty surrounding him. He reaches the cliff and looks down, noticing how steep it is, how pointy and sharp the rocks are at the bottom. He hopes it'll be quick but then again, he doesn't really deserve quick. Maybe he’ll finally be able to tell if he is in the pit or not. Like the old wives tale that you’ll wake up if you die in your dream.
It's fall, the air is chilly and leaves are a vibrant orange as they slowly drift to earth.
Maybe that's what this will be like, Sam thinks. Maybe I'll slowly fall off and drift to earth.
It's a hopeful thought but Sam knows nothing like this could ever end that peacefully, it's going to be bloody and tragic.
His life summed up with just two words.
He has a brief sense of guilt about leaving Dean alone but Lucifer is right, Dean's better off without him. All Sam does is taint everything until everyone they love dies. He bets that when he's gone Bobby will make a miraculous recovery and he and Dean will beat the Leviathans and finally find peace.
It's with that thought that he takes a deep breath and moves closer to the edge.
Dean comes back from his coffee break feeling calm enough so he doesn't feel like punching the nearest object.
All throughout this ordeal he's been feeling an all-consuming rage that keeps burning deep within his gut. The coffee and small moment to himself have helped calm him down, but the rage is still bubbling within, waiting to be let loose again.
I can't lose control now Dean tells himself. Not with Sam about to lose his mind and Bobby about to lose his life. I can't.
He walks back into the waiting room expecting to see Sam still sitting in the chair, but it’s empty.
Dean’s brow furrows as he looks around hoping to spot Sam’s lanky form, but all he sees is people in scrubs.
Maybe he went to the bathroom? Or is outside trying to cool off as well? It's plausible but it doesn't make Dean worry less. The Leviathans are still out there and with Sam in such a vulnerable state, Dean doesn’t want to leave him alone for too long.
He sits down and waits for Sam to come back. No use getting too worked up, not after he spent the better half of the last hour trying to calm himself down.
As time passes, his leg jiggles nervously and his hands start to shake, but Sam still doesn't return. Dean grows even more anxious. He finally bites the bullet and decides to ask the nurse that's been sitting at the nurses’ station since they got here.
“Excuse me, but have you seen my brother leave here? He's real tall, long hair, been sitting in that chair over there,” Dean points to the chair and watches the nurse with growing unease as she frowns.
“Yeah actually I have, he left about an hour ago but he left this note. He told me to give it to his brother Dean. Are you Dean?”
Dean furrows his brow and feels his gut tighten. “Yeah....”
The nurse digs around her desk before she produces a perfectly folded up note. “Here you go, hope you find him, he wasn't faring to well, poor thing.”
Dean decides to ignore that remark and hurriedly opens the note and starts to read through it. His eyes widen as he feels his stomach drop. “Oh God...” he whispers. His boots skid across linoleum as he races outside to the van.
Dean makes the 30minute journey to the park in 10 minutes. The van skids into a parking space, Dean gets out and makes a run for the trails, not even stopping long enough to turn off the ignition or shut the door.
He doesn't give a shit about the van at the moment. He makes his way through what feels like a maze of trails, Sam’s name repeating in his mind like a mantra. He runs down a well-used trail and skids to a stop.
He can see Sam at the edge of the cliff. He looks like he’s just taking in the scenery but Dean knows better.
Sam isn't taking in the scenery, he's about to fucking jump off and become part of the scenery.
Seeing Sam shuffle closer to the edge, Dean surges forward, a strangled cry breaking from him as he connects with his brother's body. Sam yelps in surprise as a force shoves him away from the edge of the cliff.
“De-Dean...?” Sam asks shakily.
Tears stream from Dean’s eyes as he crouches over Sam, pinning his arms to the ground. “You selfish bastard!”
“No! Don't say anything.” Dean yells hoarsely. His fingernails bite into Sam's skin until he's sure blood is being drawn. Sam winces from the painful grip and tries to pull away but Dean holds on tighter.
“You feel that Sammy? I don't know what garbage Lucifer is filling your head with but this is real. Remember? Stone number one. I'm real, despite the situation, it's all real.”
“But-” Sam tries to say.
“NO buts! I mean it, I swear to God...” Dean slowly loosens his grip on Sam, breathing heavily. He glares at Sam before letting him go completely and takes a few steps back. Sam doesn’t even try to move at first, he just lies still and watches as Dean breaks down before his eyes.
Dean's eyes are red, his lower lip trembling. It's like nothing Sam's ever seen before. He knew Dean was on the verge, but this just put everything into perspective.
Lucifer is behind Dean, shimmering in the background. Sam presses on the scratches Dean made on his wrists until blood wells again. Lucifer begins to fade, until his sadistic smile disappears altogether. It’s only then that Sam finally feels the weight of what he was about to do.
“Oh God...” Sam whispers in horror, blood draining from his face. “I think I'm going to be sick.”
Dean huffs out a humorless laugh and swipes angrily at the tears that are still spilling down his cheeks. His emotions are frayed and he doesn't know how to control them like he usually does. “My thoughts exactly.”
“Dean I-” Sam tries to get the words out, his stomach is rolling and his thoughts are all jumbled. He doesn't even remember leaving the hospital.
“Don't apologize Sammy, ok?” Dean helps Sam stand up, his hand grasping Sam’s wrist. He feels Sam's pulse rate rocketing and finds it soothing, grounding. To know that Sam is still here with him, his heart still beating.
“I shouldn't have left you alone. I knew Lucifer was still here filling your head with bullshit.” Dean quietly admits. In all of the anger and confusion, while he was outside punching things and pacing, he lost sight of his number one priority. Never again.
“But, if I was stronger or…” Sam looks down as his sentence trails off. He doesn't need to say it; the look on his face says everything. Shame, guilt, self-loathing, it’s all there.
He’s surprised when, instead of yelling at him or making some snide comment about how weak he is, Dean pulls him into a fierce hug. Sam stiffens in surprise, but relaxes at the familiar feeling of Dean's strong arms around him.
He buries his head in Dean's shoulder and breathes in his scent; gun oil and sweat. He tries to forget what he was just about to do and lets Dean wash over him and calm his rapidly beating heart.
“Don't do that again.” Dean whispers, shaken and broken. His body still quivering with pent up emotion.
“I won't.” Sam promises. He turns his head and watches leaves fall gently from the trees.
He closes his eyes and lets Dean's arms ground him in reality.
Leaves are fragile but he just has to be that one leaf that doesn't break or fall, if he does Sam fears that another leaf will follow right behind him, and he can't handle that. He just can't.
So he holds onto Dean and reminds himself that this is real. Dean is real, and even if he feels like the world is crumbling around him, he knows that as long as he has Dean, he'll be ok. Fucked up, but alive and safe.
In the end, it's all he could really ask for.