Dean Winchester (
onasteelhorse) wrote2013-11-15 08:55 am
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Entry tags:
an exercise in control (for
hunter_returns)
It didn't escape Dean just how fucked up this was. But so was the whole situation, so what the hell, right? If it got Sam back, if it got him to see how that Ruby bitch was fucking with his head and helping him get hooked on something that was going to lead nowhere good... well, Dean could take the fall out. He'd take whatever hate Sam could throw at him, but he wasn't letting his brother damn himself like this.
He wasn't going to let Sammy turn himself into a monster.
So, he found a spell. He hated dealing in magic and witches, but if it all went right... well, it meant he'd have enough pull over Sam to get him to stop until he finished detoxing this time and hopefully realized just what the demon blood was doing to him.
To them both, really.
He was fucking terrified Sam was going to do something stupid, wind up in a worse situation. He couldn't let him, even if it meant betraying him in one of the worst ways.
The spell was cast though and all Dean had to do now was sit back in the tiny motel room and wait for Sam to get back from wherever he slipped off to today. He tried to play it casual, flipping through channels and fought down his nerves and conscience alike.
He wasn't going to let Sammy turn himself into a monster.
So, he found a spell. He hated dealing in magic and witches, but if it all went right... well, it meant he'd have enough pull over Sam to get him to stop until he finished detoxing this time and hopefully realized just what the demon blood was doing to him.
To them both, really.
He was fucking terrified Sam was going to do something stupid, wind up in a worse situation. He couldn't let him, even if it meant betraying him in one of the worst ways.
The spell was cast though and all Dean had to do now was sit back in the tiny motel room and wait for Sam to get back from wherever he slipped off to today. He tried to play it casual, flipping through channels and fought down his nerves and conscience alike.
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"Trust me, I ain't that strong." Otherwise, maybe he would have been able to let Sam go all those times, let him stay in college... not drag him into all of this shit.
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Because it was the blood in the end. Azazel's blood that tainted him when he was just a child. That's why Dean was stronger. Why he'd always be stronger.
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"Look, okay, so you've made some mistakes. So have I, Sammy, but you're good. You're such a good guy. I know you. You wouldn't hurt a freakin' fly... it doesn't matter what blood's in you. You just can't keep poisoning yourself with Ruby's, Sam. You can't let her keep getting in your head... she's trying to get in between us. She's trying to screw you over and I just-- I know it. I can't lose you, Sam."
Not to her, not to this suicide mission Sam's set for himself.
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That's when the memory slides back into place. Furious at Dean, telling him that he hated him. Dean, who's been his entire world for as long as he can remember. Shock and horror flicker across his face and he reached up, curling his fists in his shirt.
"Ohgod Dean. Ohgod I'm so sorry. 'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean it."
How can he be a good guy when he said such terrible things to his brother? When he'd been so set on revenge that he'd nearly forgotten the reason why in the first place?
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"It's okay. You need to calm down, okay?"
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For everything. For saying he hated him, for arguing, for getting into the whole godforsaken mess.
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"Maybe it's not right now, but it'll be okay soon. Just gotta get you better, Sam."
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“Yes I do,” there’s a sharpness to his voice as he pushed himself up. If there’s one thing that rankled Sam the most, it was being discounted like that. Second guessed. He’d put up with it for most of his childhood and over the years it had sparked most, if not all of the arguments between him and their father.
“I know exactly what I’m saying and it’s my fault. All of it. I knew she was playing me but.. I wanted to matter. I wanted to do something good with this demon blood in me.”
Wearily he scrubbed at his face. God. His head was still pounding and his mouth felt like an ashtray. “I didn’t mean it Dean. Any of it.”
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"Okay, Sammy. Like I said, it'll be okay. We'll fix it, all of it." He paused, hesitating a moment because Dean still wasn't good at talking about this feeling crap, even now.
And part of him still didn't want to hear the answer.
"So what, taking back the whole hating thing too, Sammy? Because, man, I don't know... that one not many could blame you for."
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Reaching up, he gripped the front of his shirt. "I couldn't hate you. You're all I've got, all I've ever had."
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Sam deserved more than that, but he'd never get it unless he got off that demon blood shit, stopped this hunt for revenge. "Yeah, you got me, Sammy."
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"We should hit the road when you feel like it though. We can go to Bobby's or wherever else you want."