Fic: Reflections in Amber (Rating PG-13, Sam Winchester)
Title: Reflections in Amber
Author name: digitalwave
Character: Sam Winchester
Fandom/Universe: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For all previously aired episodes
Word Count: 350 words
Summary: Home crept up on you sometimes, even when you least expected it.
Disclaimer: The characters in this work remain the property of themselves and their related production companies. None of the pretties belong to me, I'm only borrowing them.
Old buildings had a presence, a life all their own. Their joints creaked in the cold like little old ladies attempting to stand on an icy Winter's night. Their walls breathed out their history for anyone who took the time to listen, really listen, to what they had to say.
Now that Dean was home, safely tucked into that memory foam monstrosity he loved so much, Sam savored times like this. Times spent sitting here, late at night, in darkness except for the amber glow of the Tiffany lamp next to him on the table. He sat quietly and listened while the Bunker told him stories.
It'd crept up on him, this place. Wrapped him up, protected him when he had no thought for anything but getting his brother back. Sam laughed, hearing the sound echo off the heavy wood floors and brick walls surrounding him.
He was such a hypocrite. Sam had known it was a lie, even as he'd said the words to Dean, that if their roles were reversed he wouldn't fight with all his might to save his brother. Hell, he'd already proved that to himself on a thousand lost Tuesdays. His brother may not remember them but, he did. He's seen himself without Dean in his life. Sam didn't think that he, or the world, were ready for the chaos that brought.
For now though, this instant in time, he sat in the dark of this improbable place that sheltered him, sheltered them both. He'd take the peace it offered, however fleeting it may be. He'd cherish it because he knew it wouldn't last, it never did.
Sam had a home he never expected to have, his brother back, safe if not completely whole. They had faithful friends like Cas, Charlie and Jody, who loved them, even on their darkest days.
He raised his glass, swallowing, savoring the burn of hundred year old scotch. They had a screwy, fucked up life, it was true. But, it was theirs, warts and all. Shocked as Sam was to admit it, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Author name: digitalwave
Character: Sam Winchester
Fandom/Universe: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: For all previously aired episodes
Word Count: 350 words
Summary: Home crept up on you sometimes, even when you least expected it.
Disclaimer: The characters in this work remain the property of themselves and their related production companies. None of the pretties belong to me, I'm only borrowing them.
Old buildings had a presence, a life all their own. Their joints creaked in the cold like little old ladies attempting to stand on an icy Winter's night. Their walls breathed out their history for anyone who took the time to listen, really listen, to what they had to say.
Now that Dean was home, safely tucked into that memory foam monstrosity he loved so much, Sam savored times like this. Times spent sitting here, late at night, in darkness except for the amber glow of the Tiffany lamp next to him on the table. He sat quietly and listened while the Bunker told him stories.
It'd crept up on him, this place. Wrapped him up, protected him when he had no thought for anything but getting his brother back. Sam laughed, hearing the sound echo off the heavy wood floors and brick walls surrounding him.
He was such a hypocrite. Sam had known it was a lie, even as he'd said the words to Dean, that if their roles were reversed he wouldn't fight with all his might to save his brother. Hell, he'd already proved that to himself on a thousand lost Tuesdays. His brother may not remember them but, he did. He's seen himself without Dean in his life. Sam didn't think that he, or the world, were ready for the chaos that brought.
For now though, this instant in time, he sat in the dark of this improbable place that sheltered him, sheltered them both. He'd take the peace it offered, however fleeting it may be. He'd cherish it because he knew it wouldn't last, it never did.
Sam had a home he never expected to have, his brother back, safe if not completely whole. They had faithful friends like Cas, Charlie and Jody, who loved them, even on their darkest days.
He raised his glass, swallowing, savoring the burn of hundred year old scotch. They had a screwy, fucked up life, it was true. But, it was theirs, warts and all. Shocked as Sam was to admit it, he wouldn't have it any other way.