a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he's still left with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he's still left with his hands.
he isn’t quite sure he heard the statement slipping through resolute lips correctly, and upon clarification, he averts his gaze to face his brother appropriately.
❝ -— ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴜʜ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ sᴏ. ❞
❝ dean, come on. ❞
it’s not fair. people are dying, people they could save. they’re the b e s t damn hunters around, and dean is keeping him here under lock and key because sam is a little under the weather?
❝ i’m fine. really. ❞
[ the blood spattered on tissues throughout the bunker’s wastebaskets might indicate otherwise, but sam refuses to acknowledge any weakness. ]
❝ —— are you seriously just going to keep me locked up in here? ❞
Nick looked up to the other man then place the cup on the Table next to his old family picture ،the Ex- vessel saw a lot of Strange ‘supernatural’ things lately this could be one of them ….
…”what are you talking about! i’m real…hey i know you!!..”
something is off. lucifer is not taunting him or jeering. he seems… confused. sam blinks, head tilting to the side.
(◡‿◡✿) He died for their world once, without complaint, even after he got his soul back and went insane. “A lot of people got it worse.”
(◡‿◡✿) He was so broken after Dean exploded to Purgatory that he could only drive and find some semblance of a life and try not to break it like he did everything else: the world, his family, and, most importantly, Dean’s trust.
(◡‿◡✿) After Dean came back, Sam, by now, had internalized all of his guilt and self-hatred to the point where he would do anything to be enough, to earn that trust back, to not disappoint him again.
(◡‿◡✿) Sam was glad to do the trials even though he knew it would most likely end in his demise. That light he saw at the end of the tunnel wasn’t for the both of them: it was only for Dean.
(◡‿◡✿) He openly admitted to his mistakes time and time again because he knows he fucked up.
(◡‿◡✿) His confession in the season 8 finale wasn’t to give Dean an ultimatum. It wasn’t to be selfish: it was to explain why he had to do it, why he had to do this one thing without stopping.
(◡‿◡✿) He wanted to do right by Dean for once. He wanted to not be a burden on his brother. He didn’t mind that he turned to others for talk/comfort. What he did mind was how he would never be on that level again because Dean brought up Sam’s mistakes time and time again and treated him as more of a liability.
(◡‿◡✿) He wanted to feel like Dean’s brother again and not this horrible thing that constantly fucked things up.
(◡‿◡✿) Sam wanted his brother back, not meaning that Dean could only ever hang or talk with/to him.
(◡‿◡✿) He wanted to be forgiven. He wanted to redeem himself in whatever way he could but Sam thought it could never happen.
(◕‿◕✿) Could you imagine someone you loved treating you like you still need to pay up for something you apologized for a thousand times over? Watching them smile for someone else? Never trusting you again?
(◕‿◕✿) Sam’s internal monologue: I get it. I do. And it’s…it’s fine, you know? I’m fine. I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise. I won’t fail again, Dean, I swear.
(◕‿◕✿) He resigned himself to death. “So?”
(◕‿◕✿) He is an incredibly selfless, humble person. “I’m the least of any of you.”
(◕‿◕✿) Sam Winchester is wonderful human being.
(ʘ‿ʘ✿) Talkin’ shit about Sam Winchester doesn’t fly with this chick. (ʘ‿ʘ✿)
{❦} It started off as a simple question, one that she hadn’t really expected to utter. It had been bouncing around in her thoughts for a while and suddenly it fell from her lips on a whim, but now, looking at him, the two of them high in the clouds together, it could work. They could disappear in the sea of people, become two broken nobodies in a crowd. Excitement colors her voice, she’s nearly in his lap, her forehead pressed against his for a moment before she’s pouring herself another shot and nodding, placing the joint between his lips once again.
“We could do it, Sam. Leave everything behind.”
Her chance at a normal life was stolen away when she was five years old, her mother dead, her father snapped, jumped off the deep end, whatever. Point being, she hadn’t been happy in a long time. Pockets full of Daddy’s money and a fake id had gained her access to places a high schooler shouldn’t have set foot in, and for years she sought out dangerous situations, bad people, because nothing was scarierthan going home.
{ And if she died, well then she died. That was that. }
But that was when things got r e a l l y bad, her father didn’t like her stumbling in at seven in the morning with a bloody nose, her hair tangled and smelling of smoke, the taste of booze stuck behind her teeth. So he hit her harder, she drank more.
One or the other was bound to be the death of her, until she met Sam. And she clung to him like he was going to be able to save her, though he couldn’t even save himself.
There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in her mind, if she hadn’t met Sam, she wouldn’t be alive. If the drugs didn’t take her life, then she would have found her way into a dangerous place, one with people who wanted to hurt her, and she would have let them, because what else does she know? The white powder they gave her numbed the pain for a short while, that was all she had wanted. But just like Sam’s girl with dark hair, Autumn so called friends had left her. Daddy had found her drugs, sent her to the hospital, again. But since Sam had been around, there had been no drug-related hospital visits.
Together they just barely managed to keep their heads above the waves, buffering the blows that never seemed to cease. But to imagine a life, the two of them would be alone, safe, healthy, far away from this constant barrage of bullshit, she very nearly started packing a bag right then and there. A smile graces her features and one of her hands holds the bottle of vodka to her lips and the other cups his jaw, g e n t l y, turning his face towards her own, making sure he was listening.
“We could go anywhere, anywhere at all and no one would stop us.”
there was a time when sam would have laughed at running away and brushed the idea away as if it held no weight. it would’ve swirled in his head for a brief moment, a fantasy to enjoy but never adopt. something for rainy days when empty glass bottles lay vanquished at his dormant father’s feet.
it’s d i f f e r e n t now.
he is desperate now —- they both are — and the stakes are higher. his refuge has been sacked and burned to the ground, and where he once could hide from the world behind four solid walls, sam finds himself staring out at a pile of smoldering embers. he has nothing here, now. no hope of salvation, not for him orhis father. there is no reason to stay, nothing holding him here with iron fingers.
something flutters inside him, hesitance and hope and something bright, and s u d d e n l y his decision is made. he and autumn will shoulder their burdens and go, and they won’t stop until the crosses on their backs feel as light as the summer rain.
autumn’s hand is soft against his jaw, and he lets her mold him like clay. he sucks at the joint like he is dying, lips pursed tight around the white paper to hide the wide grin that threatens to stretch its way across his face. it’s finally happening. they’re standing up for themselves; going to make a move away from this depth of despair and turn their faces at last toward the sun.
she is beautiful in this moment, eager and convincing. something presses deep inside his chest and he laughs, tilting his head up to the ceiling, eyes closed as he pictures blue skies and wide open highways. it calls to him in a way nothing else ever has, and a rightness settles deep within his bones.
❝ let’s do it. —— let’s get out. ❞
he’s plagued by an itch, all of a sudden, something just beneath the surface of his skin that’s begging to be let out. for his entire life, he just hasn’t been good enough.
"No, I’m not ok. But I haven’t been ok since I was 11, maybe 12. I am still here though.
I’m still breathing. For me, sometimes, that will have to be enough."
