Fic: The Way Things Were
Title:The Way Things Were
Author:EtherealFlaim
Genre:Pre-slash, angst, wannabe-drabble
Rating:PG
Fandom:Supernatural
Characters:Sam (POV), Dean
Summary:Things are back to normal. Dean, at least, seems to like it that way.
Author's Notes:This was written for HalfShellVenus's birthday. I had this past week's Supernatural tivo'd, and after I finished it a bunny came hopping into my living room. I've never written SPN, but I know how partial she is to it, so I thought I'd try my hand. It was ostensibly going to be a drabble, but I am rather terrible at fitting so much into so few words. I hope you enjoy it, and Happy Birthday!
Sam couldn't sleep. Even after having Dean yanked from the jaws of Death, pulled from the fires of hell, he still couldn't sleep. Part of him knew that it was over, and loved being back to simplicity, but part of him knew that their lives would never be simple again. He had learned a lot about himself and a lot about the brother who slumbered peacefully next to him since their father's death, but nothing more frightening than what he felt when he looked at the sleeping face, turned slightly toward a smile.
He reached out a hand and slowly, carefully brushed his fingers across Dean's cheek. It was like his brother had said-- his skin was unscarred and smooth, and the reminder of how close he had come to losing Dean caused a single tear to escape the corner of his eye.
Sam felt the tear trace a slow path down his own cheek before it took leave of his skin and alighted on the pillow below him. He looked down at the perfectly circular wet dot and couldn't help but be reminded of a single drop of blood. It was a very real reminder of their mortality, and Sam rolled to face away from his brother.
If he hadn't known how he felt before, he knew now. He also knew that Dean's life was too fragile, and his ironically naive world-view even more so. He had seen the joy in his brother's eyes that day, like a little kid returning to his favorite playground.
Dean wanted so badly for things to go back to the way they were. Sam couldn't bring himself to change it. Comments, criticism and little noises of enjoyment are much appreciated =)
Sam couldn't sleep. Even after having Dean yanked from the jaws of Death, pulled from the fires of hell, he still couldn't sleep. Part of him knew that it was over, and loved being back to simplicity, but part of him knew that their lives would never be simple again. He had learned a lot about himself and a lot about the brother who slumbered peacefully next to him since their father's death, but nothing more frightening than what he felt when he looked at the sleeping face, turned slightly toward a smile.
He reached out a hand and slowly, carefully brushed his fingers across Dean's cheek. It was like his brother had said-- his skin was unscarred and smooth, and the reminder of how close he had come to losing Dean caused a single tear to escape the corner of his eye.
Sam felt the tear trace a slow path down his own cheek before it took leave of his skin and alighted on the pillow below him. He looked down at the perfectly circular wet dot and couldn't help but be reminded of a single drop of blood. It was a very real reminder of their mortality, and Sam rolled to face away from his brother.
If he hadn't known how he felt before, he knew now. He also knew that Dean's life was too fragile, and his ironically naive world-view even more so. He had seen the joy in his brother's eyes that day, like a little kid returning to his favorite playground.
Dean wanted so badly for things to go back to the way they were. Sam couldn't bring himself to change it. Comments, criticism and little noises of enjoyment are much appreciated =)