Post by witchcraft13 on Mar 8, 2013 17:36:39 GMT -6
Side By Side In the Twilight
Setting: AU-After Fresh Blood. Gordon infects Sammy. Gordon still gets killed by Sammy in that warehouse, though and Dean still made the deal.
Ok, so this has a bit of Daywalker/Blade concepts thrown in to my Supernatural characters. I hope you like…
Prologue
Present day…
"Sammy, you have to…" Dean begs quietly, desperately.
"No…no, please Dean…I can't…I can't do this…" Sam chokes out, whimpering and in excruciating pain.
Sam's pale, deathly so and the blood just won't stop coming. It's oozing out of his mouth even now as he coughs up the life-giving substance, flowing down over his chin to his shirt below.
"Sammy…please…you'll die… I…I can't let that happen, little brother, I can't and I won't, not if I can do something about it. Please. Do this. Do it for me, Sammy. Please." Dean begs more desperately. If Sammy won't do this, he won't survive and Dean can't even contemplate losing his little brother. He'd rather die a thousand, horrible deaths then ever see his baby brother hurt let alone die before his time.
Sam's eyes glimmer with tears, becoming glassier by the second and Dean knows he doesn't have much time left. He drags his brother up in a slumped sitting position, pressing him close to his chest in a fierce hug, his hand gently cupping the nape of Sam's neck. Dean's mouth is close to Sam's ear now, breath softly wuffling over the sensitive shell, making Sam shiver slightly. For a moment he says nothing, just holds his baby brother close, feeling the life slip out him with each passing breath.
"Sammy…please…I can't lose you. One way or another, whether it's here or in whatever after life there is out there, I'm not letting you be alone. You choose, now… what's it gonna be?" Dean whispers, throwing out the last gauntlet. He means it. By God, he means every damn word. He's not gonna stick around without Sammy. So they either both die, or they both live and it's Sam that has to make that choice.
Sam sucks in a choked sob, knows his big brother means every word. He closes his eyes, knowing what he has to choose. He can't let Dean die, not for him. Goddamnit, not for him! He gives another shuddering sob as he makes his choice.
"Ok…I'll do it…damn you, I'll do it…"
Sam lifts his head fractionally, steeling his nerves, because he doesn't want to do this, he never wanted to do this and damn their friggin' Winchester luck, he knew it probably happen someday but he never thought it would have to be Dean…no, that's not right…of course it would be Dean…after all, he's a Winchester, too so he's just as cursed if not more so then every one else in their family. In the screaming silence of his mind, Sam begs God, his father and most importantly of all, Dean for forgiveness.
Sam wills them to lock into place now, they'd already partially descended at the sight and smell of fresh blood but now he makes them come down in full force, his mouth pulled open into a wide, death's-head grin as he does so. It's time. He snaps forward before he can change his mind, plunging the twin ivory daggers into the tender flesh below Dean's jaw, making him jolt with the force and pain of the penetration. Distantly, he hears Dean gasp and feels him jolt again slightly as he retracts the razor-sharp teeth and lets the blood well up from the punctures to spill over Dean's bared shoulder and clavicle before he begins to apply suction to the wound, greedily gulping down the heady liquid. All the while, he distantly hears Dean speaking softly to him as he tenderly pets the matted, sweat-soaked hair at the back of his head and neck.
"…s'okay Sammy…s'okay…I got ya…s'okay…" Dean murmurs soothingly, rocking them slightly.
All of a sudden, sounds shift and he can hear and feel the frantic pumping of Dean's heart, the pace increasing as the heart strains to keep up with the life-blood being drained from his body. Sam knows he should stop, that he needs to stop but he doesn't know if he can. 'So good… more…more!' his mind and body scream. Then, just as suddenly, the frantic thump-thud dies away to a dull roar and Sam can think again. He realizes suddenly that he can't hear Dean speaking any more. '****! No…no no no….oh God, no…' Sam rears back frantically, his own heart beating like a trip-hammer now. He knows his wounds are well on their way to healing, one of the advantages of vampire blood, he guesses, if you can really call anything about what happened an advantage…
Sam feels Dean's hand slip limply from his head, grazing his shoulder lightly as it flops uselessly down to hang from his brother's shoulder. Dean's head lolls back limply like a marionette with its strings cut. Frantically, Sam clamps his hand down on Dean's wound, praying he can stop the bleeding, praying his brother is still alive, his mind racing with the what ifs. What if he just killed his own brother?... Dean trusted him, he trusted him to stop but he hadn't… What if he'd gone too far, took too much…No…this can't be happening…
Sam tries to focus, he has to focus, he has to help Dean. Sam listens for Dean's breath, focuses his hands to sense the subtle stroke of his heartbeat. It seems like a lifetime…a hundred lifetimes before he hears and feels the life still there inside his brother. It's too slow for his taste, his breaths to shallow but its there and that means Sam can still save him. He can still save them both. Sam's wounds, which should have been fatal long before now, are healed enough for him to do what he needs to. Even if he was still dying, he would have found a way to save Dean, just like Dean had done so many times, would do again most likely, for him. Fact was, he wasn't in great shape himself, but Dean was the worst off of the two of them now and they needed help. Sam struggled, pulling himself to his feet only to have them wobble and nearly give out on him like a newborn colt's. He braced himself, letting the dizzy, nauseas feeling coiled in his belly and brain settle for a long moment before he gently drug his big brother's rag-doll limp body up, leaning him against him and just breathing for another long moment, letting the panted breaths and vertigo settle once again before slinging Dean over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and stumbling off toward the far off safety of the Impala.
By the time he made it to the gleaming, black behemoth, he'd fallen twice, his legs wobbling and his knees giving out on him as he stumbled, teetering closer and closer until he finally reached the sturdy beauty. He leaned Dean against her rear fender, checking for life once again and letting out a deep sigh of relief when he still felt it throbbing inside his brother, albeit weakly. He was tipsy with blood loss and exertion and he knew he shouldn't drive like this, especially not with Dean's precious baby, but he had no choice. They needed medical attention and this was the only way they'd get it in time. Somehow, Sam was able to manhandle Dean into the back seat, tying a ripped up rag of an old t-shirt firmly around his wound before lumbering around and sinking down into the driver's seat. Luckily, he'd had a moment of lucidity and had remembered to grab the keys from Dean and so now he slipped them into the ignition and brought the beastly car roaring to life.
Sam took off at break-neck speed for the hospital he knew was in the middle of the town they had been staying in for the hunt. Dad had always drilled them to know where the hospital, clinic, whatever… was in the are surrounding the hunt and the place they were staying, knowing all too well that it could literally be life or death if a hunt went sideways, as they so often did for the Winchesters. Sam was swerving and weaving across the road, speeding dangerously fast and he knew it would be a miracle if they reached the hospital without police intervention or dying in a crash but try as he might, he couldn't keep focused. His wounds and the blood loss had made him woozy, even after the infusion from Dean. He knew Dean was close to shock as well from his own blood loss, thanks to him. He had to get there, now, or they were both ****ed. Finally, the signposts for the hospital became more frequent and as he swerved around the last corner, damn-near fishtailing out of control, the hospital loomed into view. He flew into the emergency bay, bumping over a curve, making his already aching body groan in protest. Sam slammed on the breaks and layed on the horn to attract help for him and Dean. It took several fumbled tries to shift the car into park and yank out the keys even as he was scrabbling around the door panel to open the door with his other hand. People were running toward them and he gave another sigh of relief, knowing that him and Dean were going to be ok…he hoped…
Sam finally got the door open just as help had almost arrived and the moment he went to stand, vertigo overtook him and he pitched forward toward the blacktop. His vision tunneled down in ever-narrowing grays and blackened edges until finally he slipped away into the inky black pooling around him.
Enjoy January. 
Good luck and hang in there Supernatural fans.