Sam Winchester One Shots

Comfort

I turned over to my side. Every word. Every feeling. Every thought I had swirled around inside my head. monster....monster....screams...flesh....blood....

your fault

your fault

your fault

Images of what I had done flashed in my mind like flares of a camera. I couldn't take it any longer. I peeled off the covers and quietly opened the door of the motel room.

The night was chilly and quiet, the motel being far away from any night life. I sat down by the door of the motel and curled up into a ball, pulling my legs to my chest. Then I just cried. I cried for what I had done. I cried for who I had hurt. I cried for what I had witnessed. I just sat there, violently shaking from the sobs for god knows how long.

"Dani are you ok?" A familiar voice questioned. I'd recognize that anywhere. I glanced up and sure enough, there he was, looking at me, eyes mixed with confusion and concern. Those damn puppy dog eyes I thought. I looked from his face to his body, which was clad in a loose t-shirt and some pajama pants.

"Yeah Sam," I sniffled, wiping my eyes with my arm. "Just peachy." I forced a smile, but it only brought more tears. He sat down next to me and wrapped his arm around me. I instantly felt safe; protected from reality.

"Are you sure? Because I can tell that your definition of 'peachy' definitely doesn't fit mine." He gave me a small smile, the familiar playfulness hidden in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" He questioned, in a serious tone.

"What's wrong? Oh nothing! I just came out here for fresh air and to get away from Laura's snoring." I laughed as realistically as I could. He didn't believe any bit of it. He looked at me with stern eyes and I realized that I needed to say it to someone, sooner or later.

"You want to know the truth?" I muttered. Sam nodded. I lifted my shirt, revealing my stomach. It was covered in scars-- some short and thin, many long and thick. They had reached a dull maroon color as a result of time. I then went to my arms and pulled up my sleeves. My right arm had one jagged scar running up the skin and it was much bigger than the others.

"What...who did this to you?" Sam questioned.

"I did."

Sam looked at me, bewildered.

"But-"

"I was a demon!" I shouted. Saying it out loud made me feel relieved, but still brought out the terrible memories I had recieved. I looked over at Sam, who was trying to process what I had just said.

"It was eleven years ago. I was ten at the time. My parents had introduced me to hunting earlier in my life, so now I could go on the cases with them. I don't remember what state or what town I was in, but it was at some run down warehouse. I was hunting some kind of demon who was killing multiple people and needed to be stopped. One minute I was walking beside my dad and the next minute I was tied against a wall watching my dad being murdered. And they just let me watch it. And when he was gone, they moved on to me. The things........" I shuddered from the memory of it. I regained control and continued. "The things they did to me was the worst pain you could feel--times ten. They tore my flesh, prodded, poked, and sliced me everywhere. Just torture, hours and hours of it. But the worst thing was, I couldn't do anything about it. I just had to sit there and shriek in pain as they laughed and mocked me. Apparently, they thought I was 'acceptable enough' for possessing and my body was fit enough to take care of their sick and twisted business. So for the next few years, I was possessed by a demon who had terrorized and tortured all of its victims. I had to watch innocent people die. Do you know how it felt? I still have nightmares about it. I think maybe one day the people I had killed would come back and torture me like I had tortured them."

I took a deep breath, and looked at Sam. He took my hand and started to stroke the long jagged scar. I could see him trying to hold back tears. The action reminded me of an innocent little boy, trying to somehow fix what couldn't be undone. My arm tingled from the sudden but sweet gesture.

"It wasn't your fault." He uttered after a moment of silence

"But I killed them! I killed all those people!"

"It wasn't you! You couldn't have stopped it! They made you weak and you couldn't fight it. You are alive now because you had the strength to carry on." He assured. One tear slowly rolled down my cheek, which brought on more tears. I started to sob again, and Sam wrapped his arms around my shaking body. I willingly accepted his hug, letting the warmth of his body comfort me. He adjusted his position so that I was sitting on his lap, my head snuggled against his chest and my arms wrapped around his neck. He lifted me up and slowly carried me to the room in the motel we were sharing. (Dean and Laura had other sleeping arrangements) Sam started to set me down on my bed, but I still clung to his neck like a child not wanting to let go of their mother.

"Can I sleep with you tonight? I just can't be alone." I whimpered. I couldn't take any chances of being left alone with just me and my thoughts.

"Yeah. That's fine."

He laid me down on his bed, which was still a little warm from where he was sleeping moments ago. I instantly snuggled up to the warm covers. Sam sat down on the bed, and took his shirt off, apparently warm. I was freezing, and wondered how he wasn't. He then got under the covers and laid on his back. Being me, I was shuddering from how cold I was. Sam realized this and scooted closer to me, so I could lay my head on his chest. He stroked my hair, and assured me that it would be ok. And for a while we just stayed like that. Wrapped up in each others arms, no one saying a word. I felt secure in his presence, all my cares and worries melting away. I could feel his chest rising and falling with each breath, I could hear each inhale and exhale. As I started to drift away in sleep, I realized that this person truly meant the world to me, when all my life, no one else did.