InsaneJournal

Day Twenty-Three, Morning
Who: Sam Winchester and Shannon Rutherford
What: Dealing, sort of
Where: The Museum
When: Morning
Rating: Definite R
Status: Complete


He couldn't stay in the room after waking up and finding Dean lying there beside him. He knew some part of him should be grateful that at least the remains that had been left for him were the same as the zombie he encountered and not the charred remains that he'd left behind in his wake a day ago. Sam had spent the last 48 hours alternately denying and dealing with the fact that his older brother wasn't coming back. He'd burned the headless remains of his brother for just this reason. He hadn't wanted him to come back. Not as a zombie, not as a ghost. Not as anything less than himself. The only person he'd even told that Dean was dead was Andy and that had been in quickly scrawled words of frustration and anger over the journals. The only other person who knew was L because he'd seen what they'd brought him back as. He hadn't been able to bring himself to tell Shannon because he didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. He just wanted to hunt as many zombies as possible until they weren't a threat to the living anymore. That's what Dean would've wanted him to do if he was there. Right? Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

Except they had to bring him back. Or not him, his body. The shell of what Dean used to be. It was a clear statement to Sam. He couldn't even give Dean a proper hunter's burial to ensure he didn't come back as some grotesque version of himself. The management were asserting their control over his life and they're ability to create a Hell for Sam that would never let up. If they could bring his body back from being burned just to taunt Sam with it, how many times would they? Would he forever wake up next to the corpse of his brother? The one person who he'd promised himself he'd never let down and had in the worse way. It was too much to take and so after trying to calm Shannon down and shedding a few tears of his own he'd had to step out of the room they shared to get some air. Grief hit him hard as soon as he'd made his way to the front of the museum. As he shoved the desk blocking the front door out of the way he was reminded of the first time he'd seen Dean after arriving here and the fact that he hadn't known who he was. As he stepped out onto the porch he was reminded of telling Dean that they'd killed the Yellow-Eyed demon and lying to him by omission about John being alive. He got about twenty feet from the museum before his breath hitched and he stopped, trying to hold himself together. If he lost it now, he wouldn't be able to pull it back in. It was still dark outside despite it being well after when daybreak should've been. There were still things that needed to be done before he could allow himself to feel the overwhelming loss that was hovering over him like a tidal wave, waiting to break.

He reached out for the anger that had been a familiar presence ever since he'd thought Shannon had been murdered and had returned the minute he'd been able to process what they'd done to Dean and clung to it, forcing himself to pull out his journal and see if there were still zombie attacks being reported. If there were at least he'd have some kind of outlet. Something to throw himself into and put off the inevitable for one more day. Instead he found talk about burning bodies and Shannon telling him that she was kicking him out for agreeing with the other Doctor. He hadn't been gone long, an hour at the most, but when he returned he found that she'd been good on her promise. His things were set beside the door and there was something shoved up against the door, blocking his way in when he pushed on it.

"Shannon," Sam yelled through the door, his voice rough with frustration and determination. "Let me in." If she thought he was walking away without a fight she was wrong.