Chapter Text
No more pain...
It's tempting. Pain is... well, it's painful. And while you have grown used to it and learned to endure it, that doesn't mean you want it inflicted upon you.
...or fear.
Yeah, like that's ever going to happen. You think what she means is no rational fears. There will still be planes, here. But at least in your dream world,it isn't Schtrigas you have to be afraid of, but spiders in the crevices of your home that make your girlfriend shriek.
Just love and comfort.
You could believe that. You could want that – no, you do want that, you always have.
Safety.
This is your world. A land of your own making. There will be nothing to harm you, and if there is, then that just means you don't have to watch the people you love die before you do. It's a win/win situation, so why do you still want to plunge that knife into your chest?
Because it's not real, the voice in your head whispers. None of it's real. You're gonna die at the hand of a Djinn you could have easily ganked, and all because you wanna play happy families. Think of Sam, how selfish you are for leaving him for a new world with a new brother who has his name, face, and smarts but hasn't got his soul.
You don't have to worry about Sam anymore.
But what would become of him? No doubt he will find your body, devoid of life, and mourn. But would he get on with his life? Quit hunting, go back to Stanford? Even go and see the girl you told him to marry? If you didn't need him around so much, that's what you would tell him to do anyway. Maybe this is your chance to let Sammy go, let him get out of the life he's always hated; the one that your father forced upon him, and the one you selfishly dragged him back into. You could have let him go after you got some leads on Dad's whereabouts, but you didn't want to be alone. You hate being alone.
We can have a future together. Have our own family .
You could be a good father, you think. You wouldn't take after your own, no. You'd look after your kids like you did Sam, and he didn't turn out so bad, did he? That was all you. You brought him up, helped him with his homework, scared away the “monsters” in his closet when dad was gone for days, weeks on end, even gave him the talk about the birds and the bees...
Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough?
Your own words are thrown back in your face, your weariness with the job reflected in Sam's pleading features.
I'm begging you.
Sam's begging you. A tear is trailing down your mother's face, and she's rubbing the nape of your neck with a soft, comforting hand. Carmen is right there, so beautiful, everything you've ever wanted in a soulmate. Jess, Jess is alive, and there are no ceiling fires in your world to consume her or your mother. She can make Sam happy. You can watch him be happy. You can watch them all be happy and alive; you can love them, and they can love you.
Give me the knife.
You give him the knife.