Title: Of Monsters and Men

Author: Lune aka Sjoeks

Summary: A hunt goes wrong and Sam has to make a decision: save dad and kill Dean, or vice versa. The surviving Winchester blames Sam and loses himself in the hunt, while Sam's guilt and nightmares spiral out of control. What is dead should stay dead. Hurt/sick!Sam, grieving!Winchesters

rating: T for language, violence and gore

Genre: horror, hurt/comfort, drama, suspense, angst, family, mistery

Warnings: character dead, grieving Winchesters, blood, strong language, strong violence, some sick!Sam, some hurt!Sam, a lot of angsty!Sam, loneliness, hallucinations

Timeset: Season 1

Disclaimer: Obviously don't own Supernatural, John, Dean or Sam. Do own all OC's and the plot.

Chapter 1: Of killing and saving

Jared Jenner put the key in the lock and turned, stepping inside his hall.

"Honey!" he called, closing the door with his foot, "I'm home!"

He grinned and tossed his keys aside. He shot a glance at the mirror and winked at himself, running a hand through his hair. He kicked off his shoes and hung his coat in the closet.

"Honey?" he called again when he didn't hear his wife. He frowned as he entered their living room. Her favorite vase lay in shards, water soaking the carpet. His frown deepened as he picked up the biggest shards, trying not to cut himself. He laid the tulips on their coffee table and looked around, trying to find his wife.

"Joy?" he shouted, "Are you home? Joy?"

He cautiously climbed the stairs. His blood ran cold as he opened their bedroom door.

"Joy?" he whispered. His wife was sitting on the bed, dressed in her undies, only one leg in her trousers. She was staring at her hands, one of her eyes heavily made up. She didn't look up when he entered the bedroom.

"Joy?" he asked, "Sweetie, are you okay? Joy?"

She didn't react to his voice. He didn't think she even realized he was there.

"Joy?" he placed a hand on her shoulder and she flinched, as if he'd hurt her. She stared at him with wide, fearful eyes, slightly panting.

"Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling so he was at eye-level with her, "What happened?"

"I…" she swallowed and stared at him fearfully, "I don't understand."

"Talk to me," he said, his hand brushing over her cheek. She shuddered and pulled away from him.

"Where am I?" she asked, stumbling as she tried to get up, "Who are you?"

"Joy?" His heart was racing and he could feel cold sweat pooling under his armpits. He stepped towards her and she tripped over her feet, trying to get away from him.

"Who are you?" she started crying, "Who are you?!"

Her sobs filled their bedroom, and for a few painfully long seconds, Jared had no idea what he was supposed to do. When he tried to comfort her, she shied away from him. She fell and crawled to a corner, wrapping her arms around her knees as she cried loudly.

"I want my mommy."

"I haven't been able to poop for 7 days, you know?" the old lady behind the motel counter said with big eyes as she scribbled their names into a big leather bound book, "7 whole days!"

Sam awkwardly cleared his throat and looked away from the toothless lady in her blue flowery dress, scratching his neck. He could see Dean staring at his feet, trying – and failing – to hide his grin. His father shifted the weight of his duffel on his shoulder.

"Eh," John said, "That's… that's not so good."

"I know," she answered, nodding. She pushed her glasses up her nose, "Paul, my husband, says I have to eat well, so I'll poop well. You think he's right, son?"

Sam could feel an embarrassed blush crawl up his neck as he watched his father. Dean was shaking with silent laughter and Sam kicked him lightly against the chin. His brother glared at him for a second, mouthing 'what?' as if he had no clue that Sam was feeling awkward enough as it was.

"Maybe you should try eating prunes," John advised kindly. She nodded, and her glasses slid down her nose again, "Or maybe you should visit a doctor?"

"Oh sweetie pie," she cooed, tapping a wrinkled finger against his wrist, "I'm just old. There's nothing a doctor can prescribe that will help with that."

John smiled politely and signed the papers before accepting the keys to their motel room. He nodded towards his sons and they moved back to the parking lot. The moment the door closed behind them, Dean threw his head back and laughed out loud, which earned him a slap against the back of his head from his father.

"Leave her alone," John said as he opened the door of their room. They were in Jirka, Louisiana and the hunt was looking ugly. 24 women, with seemingly no connection between them and spread over the entire town, had fallen mysteriously ill. It would start with memory loss and confusion, and before they knew it, they'd lose consciousness and slip into a coma. So far, 14 of them had died already after being admitted to the hospital.

The plan was to get into the hospital pretending to be CDC and ask some questions. Maybe they could find a connection no one else had found so far. After all, none of the regular staff would look for supernatural reasons for the illnesses.

"It's like a mutated form of Alzheimer's disease," John said as he closed the trunk of the Impala. He glanced at the hospital. It was a big one, with a huge parking lot, so they still had some distance to cross until they'd reach the actual building, "It hits a lot faster and it's really aggressive. Most of them died within two weeks. The youngest victim so far is 18 years old and the oldest 45, so the age range is off as well."

"And no one has a clue about what could have caused it?" Sam asked, checking to make sure he had the right CDC badge. John shook his head.

"They're completely in the dark," he said, "And to be honest, so am I. I see absolutely nothing that connects them. Some are married, some are not. Some have kids, others still live at home with their parents. They have different religions and different ethnic backgrounds. Some are rich, some are poor. The only thing that's always is the same, is that they are women. But nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, connects them."

"This sucks," Dean sighed. John pursed his lips but didn't disagree.

"Excuse me?" a soft voice called. Sam turned around to face a small brunette. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, making her eyes pop. She smiled shyly at him, holding a map. She couldn't have been older than 15.

"I'm lost," she admitted, a blush creeping on her cheeks, "I have a map, but I have no clue where I am. Could you help me out?"

"Oh," Sam shot a glance at his family, who hadn't noticed yet that he wasn't following anymore, "Yeah, sure… Let me see."

He took the map and traced with his fingers over the lines until he found the spot they were standing.

"We're here," he said, "Where are you going?"

"Park Street," she smiled coyly at him, tucking a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm meeting some friends."

Sam stared at the map for a moment and bit his lip, "Found it! Okay, just follow-"

He didn't get any further than that. When he looked back at the girl, her lips were pulled back in a triumphant snarl. Pain flared in his head and he saw white, before everything went black.

It was cold and dark.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear sound, but everything was distorted, as if he were under water. He swallowed thickly and grimaced as he tasted blood. A weight on his chest was crushing him, leaving him breathless.

He groaned when he tried to open his eyes. They were crusty and itchy and it took him five efforts to finally open them fully. He thought he was going to be sick when everything spun around him like a merry-go-round. His breath came in short gasps, and it was only when he tried to move that he realized he was sitting – more like hanging – and his arms were bound above his head. He tiredly tried to lift his head, but it fell back against his chest. He groaned again.

"…m… S'm… Sam!"

He slowly started to realize that someone was calling his name. It was a familiar voice, so he put a little more effort behind the lifting of his head, leaving it to rest against his arm. Everything was spinning again.

"Sam! Come on, Sammy, keep your eyes open."

He wanted to answer the voice, he really did, but he was afraid that he'd vomit the moment he'd open his mouth.

"Please, Sammy…" a different voice, but as familiar as the first. Dad.

He blinked owlishly and finally his eyes managed to focus on his surroundings. He could see dad and Dean, both of them half sitting on the floor with their hands tied above their heads. Blood coated the side of Dean's head, standing out starkly against his ghostly pale skin. Dad didn't look too hot either.

"D'n…" he groaned. His mouth was so dry he could barely speak. He coughed and pain jagged through his head, causing him to moan once more.

"Dean," he tried again.

"That's it, Sammy," his brother encouraged. He didn't like the worried looks on his family's faces, "You okay?"

"'m fine," he mumbled. Dad snorted, humorlessly.

"You look great, champ," he said. Sam tried to glare at him.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Demons," dad answered through clenched teeth. Dean glared at something behind him, opening his mouth to say something. He snapped it back shut with an audible click when Sam heard movement behind him.

"Howdy," a heavy set man in his mid-forties stepped from behind Sam. He wore cowboy boots and a big hat. His eyes shone black and there was blood on his shirt. Sam swallowed as the man grinned at him. Dean swore.

Three other demons entered the room, including the girl who'd asked Sam for directions. She snapped her gum, staring coldly at them.

"Lori," the man barked, and she turned her head so fast Sam was afraid she'd given the girl whose body she'd hijacked a whiplash, "They're all yours. You know what to do."

She snapped her gum again and grinned, her eyes turning black. The other demons stepped back into the shadows.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," she said, shaking her head, "Poor Sammy, always landing in trouble."

She rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing just a little too hard. He tried to pull away from her, but her grip was strong. She ruffled through his hair.

"Sammy, Sammy," she repeated, pressing her cheek against his.

"Leave him alone," Dean growled. Her head snapped towards him and she hissed. The heavy-set man landed a boot in Dean's ribs, causing the middle Winchester to groan loudly. Sam and John jumped at the same time, the urge to protect their family almost overpowering.

"Dean!" they shouted in unison. Lori's hand tightened painfully around his shoulder, making him squirm.

"I'm fine," Dean gasped, "I'm fine."

"Now Sammy," Lori smiled, "Let's play a game."

"What do you want from us?" he asked.

"Truth or dare?" she asked, ruffling his hair playfully. He stared at her.

"C'mon, Sammy," she urged, "Truth. Or. Dare?"

"Screw you," he snarled.

"Na-ah," she tutted, "That's not how this game is played and you know it. Fine, truth it is then… Sam, do you feel guilty about killing your mother?"

"What?" he gaped at her. She cocked her head.

"Or should we ask daddy?" she asked in a childish voice, "Johnny, should Sammy feel guilty for killing Mary?"

"No," dad growled.

"No?" she asked, "What about you, Dean-o? Do you blame Sammy here for killing your sweet, sweet mommy?"

Dean's eyes flickered to his brother and he saw the fear in his brother's eyes.

"No," he said, jutting his chin forward.

"Interesting," she bit her lip, pressed her body against Sam's, rubbing her breast against his shoulder. Sam grimaced and tried to crawl away from her. It was perverse, she was only a little girl.

"I heard she died above your crib, Sammy," she purred, nuzzling her nose.

"Leave Sam alone," John said angrily. She shot him an annoyed look and rolled her eyes.

"Or what?" she asked haughtily, "You're going to glare me to death? I'm so scared now… see me shaking! "

The other demons laughed as she held up her hand, faking tremors.

"Anyway, next question," she took a breath, "Sam… Who's your favorite: Dean or your daddy?"

"What?" he knew he was repeating himself, but he couldn't help it.

"How did you get that full ride to Stanford, boy?" one of the demons shouted. Lori laughed.

"Let's make it a dare, shall we?" she licked her lips and pushed herself from Sam, "You can save only one. It's your choice, but at least one of them dies. Who are you going to kill, Sammy-boy? Your brother or your daddy?"

"What?" he stammered. She rolled her eyes and slapped him across the face.

"Wake up, Sam!" she shouted. She laughed at the lost look in his eyes, "Pick one."

"No!" he yelled.

"Yes!" she yelled back, "Or we kill them both."

Two of the other demons stepped forward and wrapped their hands around both Dean and John's necks, squeezing. Both of them made awful choking noises while their faces quickly turned red.

"No!" he shouted, his voice cracking.

"We'll kill 'm both, we'll kill 'm both," she chanted.

"Dean! Dad!" Sam was shaking, suddenly feeling incredibly dizzy again.

"Do we kill daddy and spare Dean?" she asked. The man let go of Dean's neck and his brother drew in a shaky breath and promptly started coughing, "Or do we kill Dean-o, and save your dad?"

The man grasped Dean's neck again, effectively shutting of his oxygen. It was dad's turn to start coughing.

"Kill daddy?" the roles reversed again, "Or Dean?" and again.

"No, no!" Sam gasped, "Neither! Kill neither!"

She flicked her hand and both demons stepped back into the shadows, leaving the other two Winchesters wheezing and coughing, tears streaming down their faces. Sam watched in horror how Dean's head fell forwards, hanging limply against his chest.

"Why would we do that, Sam?" Lori asked in annoyance.

"I don't know," Sam whispered, "Just… please…"

She sighed and kneeled down next to him, "No."

"Please," he begged, "I'll do anything… just… please…"

"Make a choice, Sam," she said coldly, "Or we'll kill them both. Slowly and painfully."

"Why are you doing this to us?" he whispered, watching his family recover.

"Azazel asked me to," she shrugged, uncaring.

"The YED?" his eyes flickered to his brother, who was staring at him with teary eyes, his breath wheezing, "Why? What does he want from us?"

She shrugged, "Don't know, don't care. Now pick your favorite family member."

Sam shook his head.

"Fine," she snapped, "I'll choose for you. Kill them both."

The next few seconds passed in a blur, but suddenly everyone was screaming at once. The demons stepped forwards, ready to slice Dean and John's throats, both of them screaming at Sam, who was so overwhelmed by the sudden realization someone really was going to die tonight he couldn't breathe.

"NO!" he screamed, thrusting forward in his bounds, "No, no, no, NO!"

"Then make a freaking choice!" Lori screamed in his face. He couldn't make out what Dean and dad were screaming at him and everything was so loud and he still couldn't breathe and God, what was happening?

"Pick me," he begged, tears welling in his eyes as he looked at his screaming family, "Pick me!"

Lori tsk'ed, "Sammy… where's the fun in that?"

"Please," he begged breathlessly. Why was everything spinning around him? "Please, just let them go. Just kill me instead. Please."

"Sorry Sammy," she sighed, "Can't do that. Kill them both," she repeated. The demons who'd been waiting with their knives at the ready set into motion again.

"No!" Sam wailed, tears spilling over at the realization of what they were making him do. What he was going to do, "I'll choose. I'll choose. Just… please."

He was sobbing by now, looking at the two people he loved most. Lori was right. He had killed his mother. And Jess. And now he was going to kill another person he loved. He was a monster. Why couldn't they just kill him? He was the only one who deserved to die here.

He could suddenly hear what they were screaming.

"You listen to me, Sam!" his father snapped, "If you don't save your brother, if you dare pick me, I'll hate you for the rest of your miserable little life."

"No!" Dean screamed back, "I hate you already. I hate you Sam. And if you don't save dad, I'll kill you myself."

His own loud sobs drowned out their angry words as he cried "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again.

"I lied!" John looked him in the eyes, pure hatred on his face, "I do blame you. You killed my Mary. You killed your own mother. And now you're going to kill your brother as well? You save your brother, you hear me. For once in your life, try to do the right thing."

Their mutual screams of hatred and their promises of misery for him if they didn't save the other Winchester hurt so much that he thought his heart was literally being ripped out of his chest. His hysterical crying and screaming didn't drown out their harsh words though, and no matter how often he screamed back that he was sorry and that he couldn't do it, neither Winchester gave him a break to catch his breath and think about the situation.

Their scream-and-blame fest continued for several minutes, but it could just as well have been days or months. Decades even. In the end, Sam was so spent he couldn't even cry anymore. He hung in his bounds, listening to his family's words of blame and hatred until both Dean and dad were hoarse. Both Jess and his mother had been brought up several times, as well as Dean's crappy child hood and every argument he and his dad had ever had.

"If you don't save dad," Dean finally hissed, "I'll never speak to you again."

Sam looked at them through puffy eyes and saw the naked fear on their faces. He blinked tiredly and hated himself more than both his father and brother could ever hate him, even if they combined their hatred for him.

"I made a choice," he looked at Lori, who was enjoying the show from the sideline. She looked back at him expectantly. He closed his eyes in shame.

"I want you to save Dean," he whispered

"Doesn't work that way, Sammy," Lori shook her head.

"I made a choice, didn't I?" he asked tiredly, wishing he had never woken up in the first place.

"You don't get to save anyone, Sam," she explained patiently, "You only get to kill one of them."

"What's the difference?" his voice was begging again, pleading for this to be over. Maybe this was all a nightmare. He'd wake up in a minute and Dean and dad would be there, making fun of him, but being worried all the same.

"You don't get to save," she repeated, "you only get to kill. Say the right words, Sam."

"I can't," he whimpered, "Please."

"The 'kill them both' offer still stands, Sam," she reminded him unkindly, "Say the right words."

"Save Dean," he begged. He almost threw up saying the next two words, "K-Kill… kill dad."

He closed his eyes in disgust at his own weakness. He couldn't bear watching Dean's angry, hurt, betrayed look.

"Thank you, Sam," Lori said kindly, petting his hair.

"Sam," dad said. He opened his eyes, swallowing thickly, "I love you, Sam."

"I love you too, dad," he cried, "I love you too."

Everything slowed down. He could see the heavy cowboy lift an axe above his head. He watched in horror as the heavy blade swung down. Someone was screaming as the axe split his father's head in two, blood splattering over the cowboy, his father and the floor.

It took him several seconds to realize the hysterical screaming and sobbing came from him.

"Daaaaaaaad!" he and Dean screamed, "NO! NO! Dad! DAD!"

The blood rushing through his ears was so loud he could hear nothing but his own shrieks. All he could see were his father's empty eyes, staring into nowhere.

Then everything faded into nothing.

Hi guys, I'm baaaack :D

Yes, I took my sweet time, and I haven't written anything new this year (College is very time-consuming, and I had a MASSIVE writer's block)

I've planned this story completely, so the plot is done. Currently, the first two chapters haven been written. I'll try to upload every sunday afternoon (GMT +1) like I did with The Lonely. This will be a complete angst-fest, be warned. Less OC's, more drama :) I hope you'll all like it :D

And for who was wondering: Jirka (the name of the town) is the name of my dog ;)

Reviews are love, and rainbows and unicorns and a shirtless Dean ;)

Love,

- Lune