Smile - SN fic - R
Nov. 22nd, 2006 10:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfFandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.
Warnings: AU for "The Benders"
Pairings: none
Rating: R
Wordcount: 760
Point of view: third
Notes: You know, there's a reason I shouldn't write fics when I'm annoyed.
If he thought it’d get him anywhere, he might actually beg. Actually break down and plead, fall to his knees and weep for mercy, for pity, for a scrap of anything.
But all they’d do is laugh.
It’s been three months since he’s seen his brother, since Dean went to find keys.
Kathleen was taken a few days later. He still hears her screams in his nightmares.
It took a week before he ate the food they gave and he could only force down a few bites. He tries not to think of what it was.
The cage isn’t big enough for him to stretch, much less exercise, but he does his best. He will escape. They will fuck-up. And once he’s out…
He spends the days fantasizing about what he’ll do to them. What price he’ll make them pay.
He spends the nights having mini-horror movies in his head about what happened to Dean.
When the chance comes, he almost misses it.
The latch catches too soon, the gate doesn’t shut all the way. Only a small space between closed and open, but for John Winchester’s son, it’s enough.
He waits until dark, until he can see the moon high in the sky out the window, and then he moves.
He’s seen four different people—one old man, two middle-aged men, and a young girl. He’s discerned their names: Pa, Jarrod, Lee, and Missy. A family.
He loathes them with every fiber of his being.
He steals into the house, takes in everything with a glance.
Old furniture, bones, weapons scattered about.
Sam almost smiles.
He picks out a knife that looks sharp, that gleams in the pale moonlight. He tests it on his thumb; the skin breaks easily. He grabs another, larger knife, and ghosts through the house, down a hall.
The first bedroom he comes to holds one of the younger men; Jarrod, his mind supplies.
Silently, he pads to the bed and sticks the larger knife through Jarrod’s right eye socket, shoves it down till the hilt hits bone. He uses the sharper knife to slit Jarrod’s throat from ear to ear.
Sam slowly eases the knife out and exits, continuing till he hits another room. In this one, Lee sleeps. Sam does the same thing, except this time it’s the left eye and he slits the throat form the other direction.
The next room has the father. But Sam has special plans for him, so he leaves without doing anything.
Finally, he finds the little girl. He slits her throat without a qualm.
After, he goes to the kitchen. Sees the evidence of their fucked-upness everywhere he looks. He locates matches and then heads back to Pa’s room with twenty feet of rope. First he ties the hands and when Pa wakes up fighting, knocks him back out. Then the feet, and he drags Pa from the house, tosses him on the yard.
He starts the fire in the living room and waits in the yard with Pa for the son of a bitch to wake up.
Oddly enough, Sam doesn’t feel better. Doesn’t feel satisfaction. Doesn’t feel anything but numb.
When Pa wakes, Sam greets him with a smile. His first words since Kathleen died are, “Your children have paid the price for their mistakes.”
Pa gazes at the remains of his home with a slack face and horrified eyes.
Sam’s still smiling.
He smiles when he shoots Pa in the left foot, right foot, both kneecaps, left hand, right hand, both elbows. He smiles when he cuts off Pa’s manhood and both ears. He smiles when he slices Pa’s tongue down the middles and knocks out his teeth.
Pa screams and sobs and whimpers. But all Sam hears is Dean’s voice, whispering in the back of his head, Good job, Sammy.
Sam salts and burns Pa’s body. He watches till the fire fizzles out and he starts walking. He finds the cars and hot-wires one.
He smells like blood and ash. Like death. All he tastes is bile. He’s still numb.
It’s been three months since Dean found him. But Dean is murmuring in his mind, over and over, I’m proud, Sammy. You did good, kid.
He drives the car till he runs out of gas. He hasn’t showered, hasn’t cleaned up. He hasn’t eaten or drunk anything.
He has the sharp knife resting shotgun and skin that parts beneath the blade.
The metal is cold, the pain fleeting. Dean says in his ear, Welcome, little brother. Me and Jess and Mom’ve been waiting for you.
Sam dies with a smile.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 03:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 04:55 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 07:00 pm (UTC)Favorite lines:
It took a week before he ate the food they gave and he could only force down a few bites. He tries not to think of what it was.
*cringes* Yeah, I wouldn’t want to think too hard on that one.
Silently, he pads to the bed and sticks the larger knife through Jarrod’s right eye socket, shoves it down till the hilt hits bone.
Ow, ow, ow.
He smells like blood and ash. Like death. All he tastes is bile. He’s still numb.
Good description here.
And then the end … at least they’re all together again. Still … *whimpers*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 07:27 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 07:36 pm (UTC)*snickers*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 07:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 07:28 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading!
Who is your icon? I swear I've seen that guy somewhere.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-24 07:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-24 10:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-25 10:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-25 10:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 08:10 pm (UTC)I'm not complaining really, but this was so painful. The Benders scared me, there was something in their completely fucked-upness that makes me shiver.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 08:17 pm (UTC)If I offer you chocolate, will it help?
The Benders, I think, represent humanity and the fact that we have choices. So, because we can _choose_ to do bad things(and know they're bad while doing them), we have the potential to be the worst things in the world.
So, yeah.
*offers chocolate*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 08:29 pm (UTC)because we can _choose_ to do bad things
You are right, it's because of the potential of human being to *decide* to be evil that the Benders scare me, no other excuse but wickedness.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 08:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 11:14 pm (UTC)Nice job.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-22 11:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-23 12:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-23 12:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-23 12:24 am (UTC)Well done.
Love,
Julie-Rae
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-23 02:19 am (UTC)Thank you for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-23 06:06 am (UTC)Remind me to never, ever make you angry.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-23 06:25 am (UTC)*smiles angelically*