Supernatural Drabble
Author: ladyhurt
Fandom: SPN
Pairings: None.
Warnings: Character Death
Word Count: 317
Summary: We all know Sam is going to save Dean. But what if he couldn’t?
It is the twenty-third of October when Dean… when Dean goes.
When Dean goes, it is raining. Sam lies with his head on Dean’s stomach. The screaming is over now. It’s just quiet, just the patter of rain on the roof.
Dean’s body is still there. Sam thinks it must be some sick joke, leaving the body here for him.
Dean is getting colder. Sam rubs his arms absently.
When Dean goes, Sam carries him, his body, to the car. He lays Dean in the back and drives his precious car out to the lake.
Dean’s body is wrapped in blankets. With his eyes closed and the moonlight shining off his face, all sharp features and day-old stubble, Dean almost looks alive.
When Dean goes, his body remains, and Sam cannot imagine anything crueler.
Sam can’t burn him. There is some part of him that needs this, this cold body rocking gently on the tiny boat. Sam rows out to the middle of the lake. He touches his brother’s face and tucks the blankets around him.
When Dean goes, his soul is dragged down to Hell. Sam does not know what awaits him, Sam, whether it is Heaven or Hell, but he doesn’t much care. There is Dean, and there is Death, and there is no life either way.
Dean’s body will float, so Sam holds on to it.
The water is cold, so cold it almost makes Dean feel warm in comparison. Sam holds on as if Dean’s body heat will warm him up, like when they were forced to sleep in the car or if the heat in the motel was broken.
The water is sharp in his mouth and in his throat, and the full moon winks through the waves and waves of lake above them.
Sam’s eyes are open, but he doesn’t see anything but Dean’s face, peaceful and silent, promising forever.
Fandom: SPN
Pairings: None.
Warnings: Character Death
Word Count: 317
Summary: We all know Sam is going to save Dean. But what if he couldn’t?
It is the twenty-third of October when Dean… when Dean goes.
When Dean goes, it is raining. Sam lies with his head on Dean’s stomach. The screaming is over now. It’s just quiet, just the patter of rain on the roof.
Dean’s body is still there. Sam thinks it must be some sick joke, leaving the body here for him.
Dean is getting colder. Sam rubs his arms absently.
When Dean goes, Sam carries him, his body, to the car. He lays Dean in the back and drives his precious car out to the lake.
Dean’s body is wrapped in blankets. With his eyes closed and the moonlight shining off his face, all sharp features and day-old stubble, Dean almost looks alive.
When Dean goes, his body remains, and Sam cannot imagine anything crueler.
Sam can’t burn him. There is some part of him that needs this, this cold body rocking gently on the tiny boat. Sam rows out to the middle of the lake. He touches his brother’s face and tucks the blankets around him.
When Dean goes, his soul is dragged down to Hell. Sam does not know what awaits him, Sam, whether it is Heaven or Hell, but he doesn’t much care. There is Dean, and there is Death, and there is no life either way.
Dean’s body will float, so Sam holds on to it.
The water is cold, so cold it almost makes Dean feel warm in comparison. Sam holds on as if Dean’s body heat will warm him up, like when they were forced to sleep in the car or if the heat in the motel was broken.
The water is sharp in his mouth and in his throat, and the full moon winks through the waves and waves of lake above them.
Sam’s eyes are open, but he doesn’t see anything but Dean’s face, peaceful and silent, promising forever.