Before we get started, I'd like to thank geckoholic a million times over for making the lovely banner for this meme. You can find her graphics community at bl00dredskies.
Re: FILLED: Atrophy 7/7
anonymous
June 1 2011, 00:40:34 UTC
That last day, the tears came in silent waves, warm on his face, then cooling when that too-empty feeling would take him back over. He’d never been a person who clung to other people before, not physically, but he was that day, curling towards Sam, clinging to him like Sam was a tree branch, like he’d clung to that tree back in Iowa. Sam was all that he wanted. That or his gun, his jamming, beautiful gun. All those pretty little bullets. Imagining them working their way through his brain matter and stopping this never-ending cycle of clinging embarrassingly to his baby brother, of moaning when the nothing got to be too much, and then losing his voice altogether.
And through it all Sam kissed Dean’s temple, his unwashed hair. Again and again and again, like they were lovers or children.
None of it ever stopped.
***
“How are you feeling?” Sam said, afterward.
Dean’s whole face was swollen, hot, like the worst sunburn of his life. He leaned over the sink and splashed water over it, and that helped, a little.
“The same,” Dean said creakily. In the mirror, Sam looked uncertain. “The same as before, I mean,” he clarified.
Sam still looked uncertain. He knew. Dean couldn’t stand that he knew.
“I fucking love you too, Sam,” he said, and smiled. His same old smile.
Re: FILLED: Atrophy 7/7biketestJune 1 2011, 02:50:50 UTC
Jesus christ. When I started this I was like, "yeah, this is alright." but by the end I was like "THIS IS THE MOST HEARTBREAKING COMMENTFIC EVER WRITTEN." Especially the last day. ;_; Just, wow. Fantastic job. I had been thinking of attempting this fic once I had time, but you nailed it.
Re: FILLED: Atrophy 7/7mad_serverJune 1 2011, 03:58:09 UTC
Whoa. The shame of coming back to Sam with no food and no explanation and now everything's closed, and the forehead-feeling, and the pitiful pitiful can-barely-stay-standing shower, and "Don't make me make airplane noises, asshole," and the tears finally pouring all over everything, and the gentle gentle Sam-kisses. And the disturbing disturbing temptation toward suicide. This is hurty and awesome.
And through it all Sam kissed Dean’s temple, his unwashed hair. Again and again and again, like they were lovers or children.
None of it ever stopped.
***
“How are you feeling?” Sam said, afterward.
Dean’s whole face was swollen, hot, like the worst sunburn of his life. He leaned over the sink and splashed water over it, and that helped, a little.
“The same,” Dean said creakily. In the mirror, Sam looked uncertain. “The same as before, I mean,” he clarified.
Sam still looked uncertain. He knew. Dean couldn’t stand that he knew.
“I fucking love you too, Sam,” he said, and smiled. His same old smile.
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Especially that last line. What a kicker. Words fail.
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Just, wow. Fantastic job. I had been thinking of attempting this fic once I had time, but you nailed it.
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Yes, this got even angstier on me than I thought it would, and I knew it was going to be angsty!
You should write this one too. I'm sure you'd do a great job and I'd love to read another take on it.
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“Don’t you make me make plane noises, asshole,” Sam said.
moaning when the nothing got to be too much
Wow. Wonderful!
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