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tigriswolf) wrote2009-04-18 12:15 am
Everything he gave - SN ficlet - PG
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; title from Reba McEntire.
Warnings: AU for 4.14 “Sex and Violence”
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 605
Point of view: second
Kill him, Nick says. We’ll be together forever. I’ll adore you, idolize you. I’ll do what he should have done. You went to Hell and he never thanked you, Dean. But I love you. Kill him. He’s in the way.
The axe feels so light.
Kill him. I love you. You deserve better than a lying, thankless brat. You deserve me.
Sam is a stranger. You haven’t seen Sammy since you came back. So many secrets, outright lies, half-truths, lies by omission. Sam is a stranger and you’re so tired. You should have stayed in Hell.
Kill him, Nick says. I’ll never leave you. If we’d been brothers then, I’d have followed you Down and saved you. He didn’t even do that. Kill him for me. Kill him for you.
Dad told you that it might come to this. Sammy made you promise you would, if the time ever came. An angel told you to stop him.
Kill him for all his failures. Kill him for his sins. Kill him, Dean. I’ll never leave you. I’ll never run away to California and forget about you. You gave up so much for him. End it now.
Sam looks so young. He looks like Sammy. He looks like the boy you went to Hell for. You should have stayed there, in Alistair’s workroom, by his side, bloodstained knives in your hands. You had a purpose there. You had a place.
Kill him, Nick says. Punish him. Rip him open and make him bleed. Show him how strong you are. Show him what you learned because of him. Show him who you are now. Show him, Dean.
The axe is light. Like the Colt had been, just before Azazel died. Like the last knife you held before waking in a coffin. Like nothing has in this second life.
Kill him. Now. Kill him and we’ll be together forever. Kill him, Dean.
Sam stares at you. You remember being here before, but you were on the ground then and he had a gun. He shot you four times. He pulled the trigger and you still went to Hell for him. He died in your arms and you should have ended everything then.
Kill him. Kill him, Dean.
You still have one knife on you. You throw the axe aside and straddle Sam, holding the blade to his throat. He stares into your eyes, Sammy somewhere deep inside. The cut still sluggishly bleeds, where you sliced him earlier.
Kill him, Nick says. Good. C’mon, Dean. Kill him for me.
You’ve been to Hell. You were Alistair’s favorite toy before you became his student. He taught with jubilation and you learned with glee.
Kill him. Kill him and I’ll be yours. I’ll be the brother you always wanted, the brother he never was.
You slide the blade into the tear in his skin. You perfected precision with Alistair guiding your hand. Unless you wish it, the knife will not slip. Sam’s chest is heaving, his fingers clenched into fists. For all his power, he is helpless beneath you. You could kill him, like he begged you to promise lifetimes ago.
Kill him, Dean, Nick whispers. Punish him. Punish him and be mine.
You lunge to your feet and spin, throwing the knife like your father taught you. It lodges in the siren’s throat and he/she/it gurgles, falls, dies. You’ve been to Hell. It had shrieking voices and hard hands and cold blades. It didn’t have Sam.
You killed him, Sam gasps, his hand at his throat, blood squeezing through his fingers.
Yes, you say. I did.
You’re never going to Hell again.
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