InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "This is how we do it"

winchester, sam. (ex_demonbloo908) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2010-11-21 01:59:00

Entry tags:

dean winchester, sam winchester

WHO: Sam & Dean!
WHAT: That whole seeing the future from Lucifer's eyes thing really didn't agree with Sam's sanity.
WHEN: Early morning.
WHERE: The old Winchester house; Lawrence, Kansas.
RATING: PG-13.

As soon as Sam found himself back in present time, he scrambled straight over to the first place that came to mind: not his apartment that he shared with Ruby, not the safely guarded complex, not Bobby's, but the old house that Sam had desperately made a point to avoid going anywhere near ever since he and the others had decided to set up shop here in Lawrence. It was the start of everything. The place where he had been tainted, where Mom had been killed, where Dad had changed, where Dean had taken on a burden bigger than anyone in the world ever should have had to be bothered with. The beginning. Home.

Sneaking into the house had been easy. Even with all the unusual thoughts running through his head, Sam was still more than capable of picking his way through an average lock. He'd quietly broken his way inside, plopped down at the top of the stairs, and pressed his back to the wall. One foot resting on the top step, Sam pulled his other knee up close to his chest and stared across the hall, down to the partially ajar door that lay ahead. His nursery. Sam didn't really remember it - he didn't remember anything that had happened that night, outside of that little field trip that Azazel had took him on in his sleep - but he knew the room. And as instinctively messed up as it was for him to have headed back home, even Sam couldn't bring himself to go any closer to the room than he was now. Instead, he wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed at his body tightly, trying to shake off the violent shudders that had overtaken him upon being separated from Lucifer. So different from the stories. He was cold. So cold.

The people who had lived here were gone. Sam had driven them off with his gun, which meant that the police would probably be along at just about any given time. But Sam wasn't going anywhere. He didn't understand the urgency of the situation; he was having a lot of trouble understanding most things right now. All he knew was that this was important. Being here, in this old house, meant something. He had to stay. Right at the beginning, because if he went forward and into the future...

"No," Sam muttered to himself, face pressing to the side and up against the wall. "No." He didn't want to think about it. No more future. No more apocalypse. No more.

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withgunsdrawn
2010-11-22 05:36 am UTC (link)

Dean was becoming increasingly worried, the more he saw his brother’s posts pop up on the network. He wasn’t acting anything like himself, and Dean was pretty sure there was a really good reason for that. His own trip to the future had sucked, and he hadn’t spent two weeks trapped with Lucifer - he couldn’t imaging that not freaking a guy out. He was pretty sure that was all this was, though - just... Sam freaking out. He’d be fine, he had to be fine.

The old house in Lawrence was still achingly familiar, pulling up out front. He pulled himself out of the Impala, automatically tucking his gun down the back of his jeans - only to take it out and toss it back in the car a moment later. He wasn’t going to bring a weapon (well, he always had a boot knife, so it wasn’t like he was going in naked, but he didn’t go out of his way to arm himself interntionally), was going to do his best to prove that he trusted his brother as much as Sam seemed to need him to.

He was trying to convince himself that he did, at the same time, but that could wait. For now, lying about it (it wasn’t even a real lie it was just an uncertain truth; he trusted Sam, but his trust was a little banged up, chipped and cracked and worn thin around the edges, and he needed to fix it before it broke completely and the future turned into the present, for real this time.

Pushing open the front door, he slipped inside quietly, pressing the door closed behind him. “Sammy?” He’d said he chased the house’s residents away with a gun, so he had a feeling that meant they didn’t have long here before the cops showed up. He climbed the stairs when he caught sight of his little brother’s giant form sitting on the floor, and he stopped two steps down and offered a smile as he sat, reaching out to catch at his brother’s arm - cautious, so careful not to startle him, almost sure he was going to need to recoil but fighting it anyway because he was trying to trust his brother, that was the whole point, so his hand stayed. “You okay, man?”

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ex_demonbloo908
2010-11-22 11:03 am UTC (link)

A hand went to his side at the sound of someone entering the house, fingers quick to wrap around the handle of the gun that Sam had set along the floor once those that he had driven off had vanished. Sam pulled the safety off and began to slide upward, ready to attack, but immediately dropped back down onto the floor again as soon as he caught sight of Dean making his way into the room and up the stairs. Sam released a short breath and let the gun drop to the floor with a dull thump. Dean wasn't the enemy. No need for a gun. Nodding quietly to himself, Sam put his arms back around himself, hands rubbing at his shoulders determinedly. He needed to shake away the cold. Why couldn't he get warm?

"s'kinda funny," Sam admitted, "that all that crap we just saw is, just - it's the result of..." Sam paused, head tilting to the side almost eerily. "This." He couldn't stop looking at the old nursery door. It was important. Like, maybe, if he stared at it long enough the answer to all their problems would appear. An abrupt, yet obvious realization, one that would mend both the strained relationship between the Winchester brothers and the terrible future that lay ahead. Yet there was nothing. Just a door that separated bad memories of the past from even more bad memories of the future. Go figure.

He laughed nervously, shying away from the hand that Dean extended toward him. "Maybe we should kill me now," Sam told him, that unusual laughter that had been dancing in his voice and eyes quick to fade into a cold resolve. "I was supposed to be better. 'Sposed to do the right thing. Find a way to redeem myself, you know? That was the plan. I coulda stopped...coulda changed what I did, changed what I am..." Sam shook his head, brows knitting together thoughtfully. "But this is me, isn't it? And if you don't do it, someone else will. Dad, maybe." Sam tore his eyes away from the door, reluctantly forcing himself to meet Dean's gaze. "He always did think it was for the best." He didn't know if it was better or not that Dean was here. Part of him felt better, while the rest of him felt nothing but shame and fear. Still, Sam supposed it was better that Dean be the one to find him. Better that they deal with all this together, because that was the one big thing that he could lock onto in his mind that didn't feel so confusing.

"Dude, I'm not gonna let you climb all the way up there. It's dangerous, there's ice and snow all over the roof, and you'll probably slip and fall." Sam couldn't help but squint at Dean with a sense of disapproval. "We'll find another way, okay?" He tightened his grip on his shoulders and laughed uncertainly, attention darting wildly back toward the door down the hall. "Yeah, we'll find another way."

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withgunsdrawn
2010-11-23 10:00 pm UTC (link)

>"s'kinda funny... that all that crap we just saw is, just - it's the result of..." - Sam tilting his head, indicating the door, made Dean shudder involuntarily, not entirely sure if it was the reminder or what had happened here or the mannerism that didn’t fit with his brother (that reminded him of Lucifer, foot on his neck and looking down at him with that too-calm expression, Sam’s face but not Sam) - "This."

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say about that, what Sam needed to hear. It didn’t really matter, right now, whether or not it was true - he had a feeling Sam wouldn’t know the truth if it beat him upside the head with a crowbar right now - but he needed to find something that would calm his brother down, something that would get through to him. He didn’t have anything, though, didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to say, or do, or anything.

>"Maybe we should kill me now.”

The “No,” that came out was sharp, instinctive, and he glared over at his brother as if the fact that he’d even suggested something like that was the stupidest thing Dean had ever heard. It wasn’t far from it, really. “Just.. no.”

>“I was supposed to be better. 'Sposed to do the right thing. Find a way to redeem myself, you know? That was the plan. I coulda stopped...coulda changed what I did, changed what I am... But this is me, isn't it? And if you don't do it, someone else will. Dad, maybe." - Sam met his eyes, and Dean did his best to go from a glare to something slightly less hostile, but failed kind of dramatically - "He always did think it was for the best."

“Would you just... shut up? I can’t, you need to stop saying this crap. I’m not killing you - nobody is going to kill you.” He shoved himself to his feet, ready to just grab his brother and haul him down the stairs and out the door, get him in the car and get them home, when his eyes fell on the gun beside his brother and his chest felt like it was full of ice. He didn’t think Sam had it because he planned on using it on himself, but the idea still could have been there (it wasn’t long ago, wouldn’t be long from now, whatever that trip to the future could be classified as, that he’d had the same idea. Blow his brains out, put himself out of his misery, finish the slow death he’d begun the moment Sam had turned into a vessel and not his brother). He bent down, leaning across his brother and grabbing the gun, slow and careful.

>"Dude, I'm not gonna let you climb all the way up there. It's dangerous, there's ice and snow all over the roof, and you'll probably slip and fall. We'll find another way, okay? ...Yeah, we'll find another way."

Something was seriously wrong with Sam. That didn’t... none of that even made sense, not in any kind of rational way with the context of their conversation so far, anyway, with their situation beacuse neither of them were going on any icy roofs, as far as he was aware. No, scratch that, even if he was aware, he wasn’t going on any friggin’ roofs right now. And neither was Sam.

“Okay, sure. Yeah, we'll do that.” He nodded a little, one hand reaching out for his brother’s arm again, “Let’s go ‘head an’ get you in the car, okay? Get the heat on, or somethin'.”

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