07-23-2018, 10:50 PM
Trigger warning: Death, alochol use, self harm, possible suicide mentions
It had been two months now. Two months since Sam had lost his brother. Two months since Dean had died. Dean. His stupid, wonderful, annoying big brother. Dean had sacrificed himself to save Sam. He sold his soul and was now in Hell. He did that to bring Sam back. And his brother died in the worst way possible. Hell hounds had attacked him. Dean was battered around and ripped open, bleeding heavily from the cuts and bites the hounds left on him. And Sam couldn't do anything. All he could do was stand there, watching in horror as his brother had been attacked. Sam didn't move from hugging Dean's broken body for hours after he had perished.
And that damn haunting image still tormented Sam. Every night. Every where Sam went, he was reminded of Dean. From run down hotels, to even simple fast food places. From hearing certain songs on the radio, to just being in the Impala. The Impala was a painful reminder of the time he spent with Dean. But he couldn't bring himself to ever get rid of the car. It was his only physical reminder left of Dean.
And of course there were the nightmares that plagued Sam every night. In a way, he welcomed the nightmares since that was the only way he could ever see Dean again. But in the end, it always resulted in him waking up in tears and crying for about an hour afterwards.
Sam hadn't stopped hunting though. He knew that's what Dean would have wanted. Continue hunting to protect those who need it. Make the world a better place. So that's what Sam did. He took whatever job he could find. He traveled place to place.
Sam had currently just finished a job. He had been hunting a demon. He couldn't separate the demon from its vessel, so it had resulted in the death of both. Sam had taken a step back, catching his breath as he stared down at the body. He was shaking a bit as he raised a hand and wiped some of the blood off of his face.
It had been two months now. Two months since Sam had lost his brother. Two months since Dean had died. Dean. His stupid, wonderful, annoying big brother. Dean had sacrificed himself to save Sam. He sold his soul and was now in Hell. He did that to bring Sam back. And his brother died in the worst way possible. Hell hounds had attacked him. Dean was battered around and ripped open, bleeding heavily from the cuts and bites the hounds left on him. And Sam couldn't do anything. All he could do was stand there, watching in horror as his brother had been attacked. Sam didn't move from hugging Dean's broken body for hours after he had perished.
And that damn haunting image still tormented Sam. Every night. Every where Sam went, he was reminded of Dean. From run down hotels, to even simple fast food places. From hearing certain songs on the radio, to just being in the Impala. The Impala was a painful reminder of the time he spent with Dean. But he couldn't bring himself to ever get rid of the car. It was his only physical reminder left of Dean.
And of course there were the nightmares that plagued Sam every night. In a way, he welcomed the nightmares since that was the only way he could ever see Dean again. But in the end, it always resulted in him waking up in tears and crying for about an hour afterwards.
Sam hadn't stopped hunting though. He knew that's what Dean would have wanted. Continue hunting to protect those who need it. Make the world a better place. So that's what Sam did. He took whatever job he could find. He traveled place to place.
Sam had currently just finished a job. He had been hunting a demon. He couldn't separate the demon from its vessel, so it had resulted in the death of both. Sam had taken a step back, catching his breath as he stared down at the body. He was shaking a bit as he raised a hand and wiped some of the blood off of his face.
[size=18pt]
J̶u̷s̶t̸ ̴a̴ ̷g̸l̸i̶t̸c̴h̷ ̸i̵n̴ ̵t̴h̵e̷ ̷s̶y̷s̸t̴e̶m̸ ̵