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There were two facts: first, Dean was dead; second, the world kept spinning. And that was that. What the facts didn’t say was that Sam was alive, but also dead, and he was stuck in place, but was moving forward. The loss was incomprehensible. What is a little brother without a big brother? Who is Sam Winchester, if not Dean Winchester, and vice versa?
Grief was a funny thing. He had already experienced life without Dean, Gabriel gave him a taste of it. But this still felt new, fresh in a way that experience didn’t prepare him for. Again, he wasn’t one person, but two, and now one was gone, and he was bleeding. Cut in half, the wound raw and stinging.
He wanted the world to hurt like it was hurting him. Call him cruel and viscous, even evil, he would understand. After all, demon blood ran through him, since what felt like the beginning of time itself. So he took his rage, and hurt, and sorrow and put it on blast. Any monster unfortunate enough to get on his radar was wiped out. He didn’t care how. Maybe bludgeoning a werewolf to death with silver should have been a wake up call, but it wasn’t. It felt good . And Sam Winchester wasn’t going to stop doing the only thing that felt good.
He knew, logically, that it was wrong. His morals were once something he was proud of, not stooping to the same levels as John did. He used to be above it. He was definitely not now. Sam should have known that he was always John Winchester’s son. People used to think it was Dean that most resembled him, but that wasn’t true. Sam was the angry one, the hurtful one. The one who would drag people down and bring out the worst of them. And when they were both at the bottom, he’d smile cause then at least he wouldn’t be alone. Dean may punch first, but Sam punched where it hurt. But Dean's gone now, so he’s drowning alone, and he can’t hide behind the good of Dean anymore.
Sam was sitting in a shitty bar, on the outskirts of who knows where, stone cold sober when she appeared. A beautiful woman, brown hair, a sharp look, and a smile.
“Ruby,” Sam greeted. She slid gracefully into the seat next to him, signaling the bartender for a drink.
“Whiskey on the rocks,” She scooted closer. “And how about a nice cold beer for this gentleman. Larklair.”
“Ruby.”
“Sam. It’s good to see you.”
“Couldn’t say the same.”
“Don’t be like that,” The drinks were placed across the bar with a dull thump . “I’ve been looking for you.”
“And you’ve found me.”
“Okay then, I’ll cut to the chase. You’ve been doing pretty shit lately. Word is you’re about on a suicide mission. You want to die, fine, but I don’t think that’s what your brother would have wanted, is it?”
“Don’t say a-”
“Before you get your panties in a twist, I’ve come with a better alternative than running yourself to death. You want revenge, don’t you Sam?” He took a swig and narrowed his eyes. “I know a way you can kill Lilith.”
“How?” Sam bit out.
Ruby swirled her glass, the ice clinked when it hit the side. “Fight fire with fire. Or fight demon to demon, or some technicality.”
“You want to turn me?!”
“No, no. Ha! That’s a laugh. No…” She scoffed. “There’s a reason why there’s demon blood in you, you know. A reason why you could have been the ‘Boy King’ of Hell. You have power, real power. And I can help you boost it,” Silence met Ruby’s confession. “It’s simple, really. You drink demon blood, you get stronger. And the stronger you get, the closer you are to killing Lilith. It takes a lot of blood, but you’ll get there.”
“And what do you get out of this?”
“Lilith dead.”
Sam huffed out an air of disbelief. “You expect me to believe that.”
“It’s true. I want her dead for my own reasons, it’s a mutually beneficial relationship. If you don’t trust me, fine, but it can’t hurt to try. And if anything goes wrong you can just kill me, can’t you Sam?”
Sam had a moment of clarity. To trust a demon goes against everything he’d ever believed. Her words were like an oasis in the desert. It’s no doubt an illusion. Dean would never have wanted this for him. He’d want him to get out, to create a family and get a picket-fence life.
But Dean died .
He was dead because Sam was useless, pathetic. He didn't deserve that life, he didn't think he even wanted it anymore. This route, if he chose, would lead to pain. It would lead to hurt, betrayal, and an empty husk of himself. But maybe it would also bring redemption.
And then the moment was gone.
“You’ll supply the blood?”
“I’ve got a body, don’t I?”
“When I use the power, will I be able to save people?”
“Trying to save face, huh? Yeah, in ways you can’t even dream of.”
“Okay then.”
“Okay then?”
“You have a deal.”
The first time he drank her blood was on a Thursday. They were in a shitty motel room. Ruby had a knife in her hand and cut her arm. He hesitated. Ruby guided his head down for him. He knew what blood tasted like from the injuries he had gotten throughout the years; he can surmise it tastes like metal, like a penny on the tongue. And hers did too. For a second he thought he was tricked. Blood was blood was blood. He should kill her.
Then the rush hit. A type of ecstasy he’d never experienced before. He was flying. And all the pain and hurt was replaced by good. Fuck, it felt good. Better than the alcohol he drowned himself in, better than the sex, better than beating in monsters heads with his bare hands.
She had told the truth when she said it would make him stronger. He could take out monsters in minutes instead of hours, with minimal to no damage. The people he saved increased tenfold.
He wasn’t a failure now. He was saving the world. He was doing what was right, what he was raised to do. And sooner than later, he was gonna kill Lilith.
Dean would be proud, he had to be.
“You’re doing a good thing, Sam,” Ruby said as she hugged him from behind.
Sam had been having a moment of doubt. “Am I?”
“You are. You’re saving people others would deem lost causes. You’re efficient, the more cases you take on, the better the world is for it. And this lets you take a lot.”
He leaned into her touch. “You’re right.”
“I usually am.”
The days had flown by. Sam slowly increased the amount of blood he was consuming, having gone from using only a few times a week to every day, to multiple times a day. The high remained the same, but now it was longer, and he was powerful . He wasn’t alone anymore, either. Ruby was there, gladly letting him anchor himself to her. Smiling as she went to the bottom of the sea.
And then Dean was alive. And he wasn’t proud.
He was horrified . Disgusted.
Sam should have known, really, but he’d always been a little off on assuming what Dean would want. Dean told him to quit. And Sam had said yes.
The way it panned out was inevitable, though.
It started small. A case in Idaho, a ghost. Research was easy enough, as was scoping out the place. He and Dean had somewhat of a truce, a promise of no lies, and Sam wanted to keep it. He owed that at the very least.
“Sam.”
“What is it?”
“I…I just wanted to say that we’re cool, okay. No bad blood between us.”
“I know that, Dean. We’re cool.”
“Good…Bitch,” An olive branch Sam didn't deserve. He took it anyway.
“Jerk.”
The actual taking out of the ghost ended up as most other ghost hunts went. Good, and then not so good. It wasn’t until they were at the grave-burning part that things went south. Dean was distracting the ghost, buying Sam time to get the lighter going. But Sam’s hands were shaking. Not the normal anxiety shakes that happened in life or death, but something else. Severe enough to be tremors. They ran up his hands, and soon his whole body was shaking. Dean yelled somewhere off in the distance, screaming at him to light the son of a bitch up. Sam clamped on his hand, and finally got it to work, dropping the flame. The corpse was engulfed, and that was the end of it. Or, Sam wished it was.
The tremors kept getting worse. He would shake and shake, and Dean noticed, eventually. He only commented once, but Sam dismissed his concern. He didn’t want Dean’s concern, didn’t want him to see him like this. And then the restlessness kicked in. What little sleep he could get before vanished. And he felt sick. He stopped eating; if there's nothing going in, there's nothing going out. Not really true, but it was a sensible enough thought.
When they stopped at gas stations Sam would grab whatever pills they were selling over the counter. Advil, Tylenol, Nyquil, Benadryl. Anything to make this new pain stop. Anything to put him to sleep. Every night when they wouldn’t work, he would take more and more.
Dean noticed, he always noticed.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
Sam is trapped in the car, nowhere to go. He considered jumping out anyway, to at least buy himself some time. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Bullshit. I know you’re taking a shit ton of pills. What I wanna know is why .”
“I’m having trouble sleeping. I’ve also been hurting a little bit, I guess. I’m just taking something to cool the edge, that’s it,” Not exactly a lie, not exactly the truth. But it was enough for Dean to back off once again. He’d always been considerate like that, worried he would push too much. Sam felt like shit using it to his advantage.
The hallucinations slipped in between one day or another. He saw Jessica everywhere. Quick glances and then she was gone, but he swore.
They were on a demon case this time. It was harder to track it down, but they made do. The research was still easy, they knew this enemy. Knives were sheathed, and guns were loaded. Dean got tossed into a wall, and Sam was the one who did the killing blow. A knife to the gut. Blood spilled onto his hand, thick and wet. And Sam, for the first time in a while, was hungry. He didn’t even realize how starved he was till now. Before he could bring his hand up for just a taste, Dean groaned behind him.
Sam dropped his hand and rushed to Dean's side. They packed into the car and went to their motel. Dean asked for food and beer, and Sam would get it for him.
Sam found a convenience store and grabbed the first brand of beer and a piece of pie. He went to ring it up, when a hand landed on his hip.
“Busy?”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound like a ‘no’ to me.”
“I promised Dean.”
“To what, stop helping people? Please. We both know you need this, you want this. This will let you be a good person, not just following Dean around like a sad little puppy. You know what happens to puppies who misbehave, don’t you? And you’ve already torn up the house, might as well piss on the carpet. Especially if it means Lilith is gone,” Her fingers danced along him. “You know I’m right.”
He folded like a house of cards. He might regret it later, but he could practically hear the blood rushing in her veins. The taste was as metallic as ever, but the head rush was just like he remembered– powerful . Being with Dean feels right, but it doesn’t feel good. This feels good.
If Dean noticed another change in his behavior, he didn’t mention it. Maybe it was the relief that his younger brother was no longer downing pills, no longer lying awake or shaking constantly. If he didn’t ask, Sam wasn’t really lying.
Sam sometimes wondered how predestined his supposed destiny was. Was the anger always ingrained in him, all the way down to his bones? Was the cruelty always there? He used to think he was kind. Despite himself, he hoped Dean still thought of him as kind. It really would be cruel for Dean to have to hate his younger brother.
The nightly meetings with Ruby continued. He drank and drank and drank his fill. He prepared to rid the world of a true evil. As soon as he killed Lilith he could show Dean that this was what he was born to do. This was the good that came with his bad. This time he wouldn’t be disgusted, he would be impressed. He would be happy, and Sam would be accepted as the freak John had said he was. As long as Lilith died by his hand, Dean would see. This would work.
Sam fucked up and Dean knew. And he punished Sam for it.
Sam was a little relieved when he got shoved into the safe room. It meant he didn't have to make any more decisions. Dean would make the calls, which meant they’d probably be right. The pain of withdrawal was intense. It felt like he was dying on a loop, and this would be his eternity. He still wanted to kill Lilith. He still wanted to make her suffer like he suffered, like Dean suffered. The plan could still work. Dean would understand him and love him, if only he could kill her and show him. And then the door opened and he could.
He got too cocky, forgot who he was dealing with. Ruby was a demon. He should have killed her like she had suggested at the beginning. Lilith was dead, but she wasn’t the true evil like he thought she was. Who knew the ends wouldn't justify the means?
Sam Winchester, once again, was the scum of the Earth. He was still cruel, angry, and he hurt everyone. He doomed the world. And Dean, good, just Dean, let him crawl back, like the sad dog he was. He said they would fix it. Offered the word bitch , and Sam took to it like it was an offering of the Gods.
Sam was put back into the room. It was agony all over again, but it was worth it this time. Pain he willingly underwent was rare, but Dean always seemed to be the reason for it.
Dean wanted Sam to promise, again, to no more lies or secrets. Sam thought Dean would know by now that all Sam was was secrets and lies. Would know that Sam had demon blood running through his system, not on purpose at first, but quickly welcomed. Sam promised. Swore it over his beating heart.