Mystery Spot

17

Bobby's body faded into nothing, the stake spinning around before dropping to the floor. Sam frowned when it started to shake, his head whipped around as the stake flew through the air, meeting the left hand of who he had been searching for.

The trickster grinned. "You're right. I was just screwing with you. Pretty good though, Sam, Smart." He raised the stake at each compliment. "Let me tell ya, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands." He started to laugh, looking down at the bloodied stake. "Holy 'Full Metal Jacket'!"

Sam's face turned sad at the mention of his brother. "Bring him back," he begged quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The trickster looked up from the stake, making a confused face. "Who? Dean?" Sam barely nodded, making the trickster shake his head. "Didn't my girl send you and (Y/n) the flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the 'Hellfire Rumba' as we speak."

"Just take us back to that Tuesday- or Wednesday, when it all started, please," Sam begged once more, using his Puppy Dog Eyes™ the best he could, which were beginning to fill with tears. "We won't come after you, I swear."

The trickster frowned, raising an eyebrow. "You swear?" He repeated, not believing that.

"Yes."

"I don't know," he rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a second, going over the thought. "Even if I could..."

"You can!"

The trickster paused, facing Sam with a nod. "True. But that don't mean I should." His voice grew low, ignoring Sam's once more sad look. "Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that," he lifted the stake, circling it around the Winchester's figure, "freakish, cro-magnon skull of yours." He dropped the stake back to his side. "Hell, (Y/n)'s already learned it!"

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. "Lesson? What lesson?" His face hardened at the mention of his twin and the trickster being in contact with her. "And how would (Y/n) have known this? I haven't seen her for almost six months!"

"This obsession to save Dean!" The trickster took a few steps towards Sam. "The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other- nothing good comes out of it- especially for (Y/n) who watches you two do it over and over again! In the end, there's just blood and pain." He stopped when he was inches from Sam's face.

"Dean's your weakness- (Y/n)'s your weakness." His tone was almost a growl at the mention of the youngest Winchester. "The bad guys know it too. They're gonna be the death of you, Sam." He stepped away and shrugged. "Sometimes, you just gotta let people go."

"He's our brother..." Sam whispered, starting to shake.

The trickster nodded, tossing the stake back and forth between his hands. "Yep," he popped the p. "And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be without him."

Sam gulped. "Please. Just... I haven't talked to (Y/n) since this started, I pushed her away and scared her-" a tear trickled down his cheek. "I-I can't keep going like this without her... without them."

The trickster sighed, dropping his head. He bit down on his lip, thinking about what Sam meant when he scared his twin. "I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall." His expression no longer showed the pain of how the youngest Winchester had been. "Okay, look- this all stopped being fun months ago." His hands raised in 'surrender' though it was more of a shrug. "You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal. I'm over it."

"Meaning what?" Sam asked, following the trickster's figure to the exit.

The trickster stopped and turned around. "Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out." He smiled one last time, then snapped his fingers.