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  1. YellowEyedSam
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  3. Thursday, 15 September 2016
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Why am I re writing one of the best episodes ever you ask? Because I saw opportunities to inject my ideas. As for why I'm splitting in two, its taken me so long to write just half of it, that I thought at this rate I should just show what I have so far. The 1st paragraph was my first time writing about SPN, and initially done to test how well I could write them. Thanks of course to Samanddean10 for editing :)

p.s Castiel doesn't appear in this version.



"Yes.. Dean?" Sam replied with a hint of weariness

"Tell me something" Dean said without looking "How long?"

"...Not long after you-"

"How long?" Dean repeated more firmly

Sam glanced down swallowing nervously "A few months.." he mumbled

Dean simply nodded without a word leaving Sam in an awkward silence, but it didn't last long.

"Can we just get this over with?" Sam said irritably.

"Sure. Lets talk about how my own brother is sucking demon blood. What better way to spend time eh?" Dean replied sarcastically.

Sam nervously twitched his lips as he struggled to find something to say, some reason to explain, but all he could say with a low mumble was "I'm sorry"

A defeated sigh from Dean signaled the coming of a long silence. It came and went, with only the miserable company of a howling wind and the persistent banging of the rain on the windows. The unspoken vow of silence was broken at last by a ringing, becoming irritating after neither decided to make the first move, until Sam glanced to the screen.

Sam realised it was his, with Bobby on the screen. He picked it up, trying to mask the fatigue he felt


"Sam, I need you and your brother here now. I've found something. Something dangerous and I need you boys to help me contain it"

"We'll be right there"

"You better Sam" replied Bobby, and hung up before Sam could reply.

"What did he want?" asked Dean

Sam opened his mouth to speak but paused, scrunching his face up in confusion "Dunno. He just.. needs us to contain something. Didn't say anything else except it was dangerous"

Dean gave a silent nod before hitting the accelerator "We'd better not keep him waiting then"


Only the sound of the wind greeted the familiar car, whistling and blowing through the wreckage's of old and new. Suspicious were raised in an instant, and both already had guns in hand before stepping out the car. Dean glanced at his brother, silently signalling him to go round the back to which Sam nodded and quietly sneaked off. Sparing a second to frown at his brother, Dean turned and made his way to the front.


Sam arrived around the back, ducking and weaving along the wall as he peered inside but found nothing amiss except total darkness. When he gently turned the handle on the back door he was surprised it was unlocked. Delicately he opened it an inch, taking a moment to listen for anything. When he heard nothing he took one last glance around and slipped in.

Quietly Sam shut the door behind him and flicked on his torch, scanning his surroundings with his gun already loaded and poised.

One room followed the next as he searched the house in fruitless succession with no fresh clues or answers. No sign of struggles or violence. Not even the telltale stench of sulfer to go by. Sam was simply lost, especially now that Dean was no where to be found either. He must have missed something surely.

Rummaging in his pocket he picked out his phone and one by one called Dean's many numbers. Not one was answered and he'd all but rung every one until faintly he could hear a ringing. Swiftly he made his way in its direction which lead him to the basement stairs. Just as he took his first step down the ringing ceased. Frowning, he tried ringing again but the line was dead.

When Sam arrived downstairs he found to his surprise the panic room was open, the inside empty. Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, more so when he noticed something as he crept closer. A note was on the bed with his name on, handwritten in Dean's style. Confused, he picked it up and opened it. "Sorry Sammy" it read. Behind him the door groaned to life causing him to turn. He was just in time to see Dean before it slammed shut.

"Heya Sammy" said Dean, sliding the view window open

"Dean? What the hell is going on here?" asked a confused Sam

"Locking you up for your own good. Think of it as a demon detox." Dean paused for a moment showing a sense of regret before sighing "Its for your own good Sam." He paused one last time to see the look of shock pass over his brothers face before shutting the viewing panel and walking away, ignoring the protests with a guilty silence.


Hours had passed, time had moved on, yet it did not heal the wounds festering and spreading across Sam's hungering soul. More power he craved, eager for its euphoric taste upon his tongue, and to revel in its effect as it washed down his throat. He would gladly have dined on that thought till he was full of desire, but human sense always managed to steer him away from those dark thoughts. For now he was safe in the boundaries of belief, and secure in the knowledge the urges held no sway over him yet.

Yet the lock bounding his darkness was only so strong, and sooner or later he knew it would fracture. Locking his arms tightly around his chest as if to strengthen the hold he began to pries apart some happier memories, but the light of those happier times always had a shadow clinging to them. A black cloud that swirled inside the caged memories, always reminding him of the ceaseless hunger.


Dean slumped on the chair, opening his second bottle of beer and downing a third in one go.

"Take it easy Dean" Bobby cautioned as he sat down opposite with some whisky "You're no good to us drunk"

"You're one to talk" Dean eyed the whisky before taking another swig of his own drink.

Bobby glowered at him "I ain't the one aiming to get drunk in record time here. Now stop chugging it down and talk sense"

Dean didn't reply at first, seemingly content to stare wistfully at the bottle. "I can handle demons, vampires, you name it. But my own brother going through this?" he shook his head then looked at Bobby with a pained expression "I wish that yellow eyed son of a bitch was here right now so I could kill him again"

"Well he's not, and considering what he did I'm glad that thing is dead"

"Yeah, I know.." Dean signed and leaned his head back, allowing the alcohol to swim freely in his head.

Blissful thoughts and memories drowned him in their embrace, pushing him away from the darker ones beyond the surface of his eyes.But the bliss was short lived, dying the moment a desperate scream echoed in Dean's ears causing him to flinch from the pain he heard in that voice. The beer didn't seem as appealing anymore, and he promptly put it down, sliding it to Bobby "You finish it. I'm going to check on him"

"Hold on boy." Bobby stood "Just remember he might do anything to get out of there, so be careful"

"..I know Bobby"


Sam swallowed hard as he gazed as the distant jug of water, wincing as the action brought a fresh wave of hunger. With enough effort to make him shudder he forced it down before unsteadily getting to his feet. The moment he did his vision and balance lurched, forcing him to shut his eyes until the motion stopped. When he opened them he choked out a wordless cry.

No longer was the jug glistening with a clear liquid. Instead it was filled with an opaque, crimson subsistence Sam was all too familiar with. It was a sight that captivated his attention, luring the deprived Sam with its beauty and irresistible metallic scent that he cold almost taste upon his dry tongue.

He picked it up but the jar full of the precious substance slipped through his sweaty, trembling hands, shattering and spilling its contents all around him. A frustrated yell escaped his lips as he sought to scoop up whatever he could, uncaring of the glass cutting into his hands.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and a familiar voice called out "Sam? Are you doing okay in there?"

Sam flinched back into focus when he heard Dean's voice, unsteadily getting to his feet "Dean? Dean... I need to get out of here, please." he begged as he crossed the room haphazardly.

"You know I can't do that Sam"

"Can't or wont?"

"Both. I can't let you out because demon blood, and I wont let you out because its demon blood."

Sam's mouth twitched as he turned away, the signs of frustration clear on his face and body language.

"Sam listen to me. You're addicted to 'drinking' demon blood. Think about that for a sec."

"I have Dean! Ever since you locked me in here I've been thinking why you're doing this."

"Why?" Dean seemed astounded

"Yes why. I can stop Lillith. Its the only reason I'm doing this"

"Is it? I think I know a junkie when I see one Sam. You're addicted, and SHE is the one who got you addicted yet you just can't see that."

"She's helping me Dean, and I'm still me." Sam tried to convince his brother but something in his voice betrayed a weakness, something Dean picked up on.

"You are not fine Sam, not at all. You're out of control, desperate, and craving for more like an addict. You can fool yourself but you are not fooling me."

Sam shook his head in disbelief, his face giving up all pretence of patience as he turned away with a scowl. Dean hated doing this to his brother, but it was necessary. Even though he put on a brave face it was killing him to watch Sam's distress. "Sam" he began to say, but his brother had heard enough. With a frustrated yell Sam turned and slammed the door, causing Dean to flinch back.

Before Dean could find the moment to speak again his brother turned and swiftly made his way to the bed. There he sat with a brooding look whilst trying to control a sudden series of twitching. Pity welled up in Dean, but he forced it down and turned without a word, unable to watch anymore.


Sam was cursed. He was convinced of it. How else could he explain this familiar situation of being alone? It was as if his whole life revolved around it. From the opening act of his lonely childhood it had started, and from there a tragic play of misery, betrayal, and death with interludes of company in between.

And now this. Locked away by his "family" for doing what he thought, no, "knew" what was best. They were treating him like a child, like he didn't know any better and grounding him to this room as punishment. The thought made him furious.

But then, he wasn't always right... was he? Doubt began to worm its way through the annoyance, making him wonder. The thought persisted until it pulled him deep into his memories as he sought the answer.

Proundness filled him as he recalled the time he left his family for a life of study and normalcy. However that decision, that path lead to Jessica, which as a consequence steered her into an unavoidable collision with death.

Then there was the time his mercy towards Jake had not only cost his life but Dean's too, who paid with his soul for a short term deal to bring Sam back. In the end Sam had played all his cards to thwart the deal but to no avail. The hell hounds claimed their prize and dragged Dean to hell for four months of torture and misery.

So distracted by his thoughts Sam nearly missed a large shape move from behind him.

Immediately he snapped out of his daydream and spun around, tensing his body for confrontation. But there was nothing there or around the room, and no sign of anything supernatural either. Puzzled, he put down to fatigue before turning back round. He was about to sit back down when he noticed someone standing before him.

Sam took a step back in surprise "Dean? How did you..?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you" Dean interrupted with an icy tone "Not to a monster"

Sam's breath caught in his throat as the emotional blow left him speechless.

Without giving him time to recover, Dean continued "To think I actually considered you my brother. You really are no different from the things we hunt."

"Heck, I felt sorry for you at first as did Mum, dad and Jessica. We deluded ourselves into thinking everything would turn out okay"

"But.. everything did Dean" Sam tried to proclaim but his voice was as weightless as his confidence.

Dean smiled "Did it?" then laughed before gesturing at Sam "You call this turning out okay? I should of known you'd eventually turn out like the rest of your kind"

"No! That isn't true! I'm still me despite all this.. "blood drinking" Sam grimaced and looked away "You kept that hope alive that I could be saved despite Dad's warning"

"I lied"


Dean turned back towards him, all humour gone "He didn't tell me to kill you if I couldn't save you. He told me to kill you because he was ashamed."

All colour drained from Sam's face "No.. he would never.."

"Why do you think he favoured me? He wasn't protecting you, he was avoiding you."

"Please.. stop." Sam begged, his voice straining with emotion.

"In the end dad had enough and ran away chasing the Yellow eyed demon. Perfect excuse to get away from his abomination of a son. Though why he left me with you I have no idea." Dean shook his head "He must of been that desperate to leave." He shrugged "Well, you can do whatever you want, because I'm done pretending to be brother to a blood sucking freak. The next time we meet I intend to carry out Dad's wish.

It was all too much for Sam to bear. To finally hear his deepest fears spoken aloud had crushed his spirit along with his strength. He sank to his knees, trembling with emotion as a single tear fell from his grief stricken face.

"Truth hurts doesn't it Sammy?" Dean asked as he circled around him "Imagine how I felt when I found out what you really were. Angry and bitter. But.. for the good of helping people and saving the world I buried it deep. That is until I reached my limit after seeing you sucking that poison like a.."

"Don't!" Sam yelled "Don't say it... please." his voice trembled


At the sound of that damning word Sam could contain his anger no longer, and with a cry of rage he leapt at Dean, tackling him to the floor. Without giving him a chance to recover Sam struck him back down and began a brutal assault of punches to his face.

Deep down he knew this was wrong, but he couldn't help himself. The dark side of him he tried so hard to suppress was free, warping his mind and soul into giving him a sick satisfaction as he beat Dean to unconsciousness.

"But why stop there" whispered a voice in his head "Why let him live? He wants the apocalypse to happen. He wants all that blood for himself.."

So caught up in his rage and grief Sam believed they were his own thoughts, further enraging him and prompting him to strike harder. It soon became apparent, even through the red mist, that Dean was close to death. Seeing one more blow would likely end it, he raised his fist high, tensed his muscles, and..

"Sam stop!" someone called from behind.

It had the desired effect, causing Sam to freeze mid swing. Though it was the emotion behind the voice that thawed his anger. He was about to connect his thoughts when laughter interrupted him.

Below him, his face a wreck, his brother gave a mocking grin "Go ahead" Dean managed to say through a bloody mouth "Finish it"

Sam hesitated, unsure if his mind was playing tricks on him. He was sure that voice behind him was Dean, but how could that be when he was right here?

"Finish me!" Dean screamed at him.

But Sam's attention was elsewhere, fixated on the concern in the similar voice behind him. Then, overcome with a nagging feeling, he turned.

It was Dean, the real one, who schemed with Bobby to lock him in here and hoped his addiction to demon blood would pass, whilst they had a death wish in trying to take down Lilith. He felt his anger rise again at this betrayal and their suicidal mission. Only HE could take her down, and if he had to throw away his humanity to save the world then so be it. He'd had enough of this treatment. It ended now.

Sam stood, the angry retort ready on his lips. He ignored the alarmed expression on Dean's face, and opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a scream.

Overwhelming pain hit, shattering his mind as he collapsed to the floor cradling his hands. As he looked upon them through misted eyes he saw skin scraped away, bleeding and exposing delicate nerves to the sting of the air. To the side of him he could see the blooded hard floor he had in reality been punching.

In the distance be heard someone speak but he couldn't concentrate on what was being said. When he managed to look away from his battered hands Dean was gone. In that moment he felt a pang of fear, wondering if again he was hallucinating, but thankfully it didn't last. The pain returned and Sam, all too eager to escape the mental pain, embraced it.
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