Falling
. It’s dark, raining, and a distant voice in the back of his head is commenting idly at the rather cliché nature of the whole scene. A dark and stormy night, indeed. He jams his thumb into the scar in his palm. Not now. Not now. His jacket is soaking wet and the rain can’t wash away the sweet, smoky scent of demon blood.
They’d come on him when he’d slipped away for a drive. Dean had passed out after drinking himself into a stupor. Both brothers had been lost since.. since Bobby. But Sam was losing his brother and his sanity all in one fell swoop. Lucifer hadn’t let up and his brother was slipping away, unable to help ground Sam in what was real and what wasn’t. So he’d gone for a drive, meaning to grab dinner and bring some back for Dean when he woke up.
Three demons in the back of a dive bar. A hard fight, even for a trained hunter like Sam, but he’d been armed with Ruby’s knife. Shaking with the adrenaline, fear and his skin crawling with sheer want, Sam finally gave in. Years of being clean gone. But maybe the power would help silence Lucifer and.. and he needed some sense of control.
The control didn’t come, even as the power lit his veins on fire and his body screamed for more.
He needs help. So he fumbles with his phone until he found the right number. Sam hates how small, how terrified he sounds when the voicemail picks up. “Rhys? I.. I need your help. God, please be home. Rhys?”
They’d come on him when he’d slipped away for a drive. Dean had passed out after drinking himself into a stupor. Both brothers had been lost since.. since Bobby. But Sam was losing his brother and his sanity all in one fell swoop. Lucifer hadn’t let up and his brother was slipping away, unable to help ground Sam in what was real and what wasn’t. So he’d gone for a drive, meaning to grab dinner and bring some back for Dean when he woke up.
Three demons in the back of a dive bar. A hard fight, even for a trained hunter like Sam, but he’d been armed with Ruby’s knife. Shaking with the adrenaline, fear and his skin crawling with sheer want, Sam finally gave in. Years of being clean gone. But maybe the power would help silence Lucifer and.. and he needed some sense of control.
The control didn’t come, even as the power lit his veins on fire and his body screamed for more.
He needs help. So he fumbles with his phone until he found the right number. Sam hates how small, how terrified he sounds when the voicemail picks up. “Rhys? I.. I need your help. God, please be home. Rhys?”