Fic:We Keep Moving Verse: In Silence [Nick, Adam]
Title: In Silence
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: Night's Fang (Inked Insanity)
Characters/Pairings: Adam, Nick.
Rating: PG
Word Count: # 1142
Summary: Adam isn't used to silence.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I think that's been established by now yeah?
A/N: So, I'm pretty sure this verse counts as AU now. Set after Country Roads.
The world is quiet outside. It's like someone put everything on mute, and the only sound that Adam can hear is Nick's soft snores. Nick, who dozed off the moment they settled into their room, and didn't wake up since. Nick, who for once the universe has decided to take mercy on, and let him turn in early, and not grace him with nightmares tonight. Adam is glad about that. The guy deserves some rest.
Adam casts another glance at Nick, from where he's curled up by the window, and flips the page of his book, worn with the number of times he's re-read it, black ink illuminated by moonlight. It's the only other sound in the room. Neither does the mechanical fan nor the clock - which now tells him that it's only eleven in the night, and it's odd because Adam isn't used to time going by so slowly and peacefully any more - make any sound.
For some reason that unnerves the shit out of him. Quiet is the word that he could use to describe the past number of days. At first it was nice, nothing chasing them, nothing happening. However, for Adam, the sheer novelty has worn off, and now paranoia has set in. While Adam doesn't want to jinx it - it's a reason why Nick and him never mention it, talking about it is like inviting trouble in again - he can't help but feel justified for being worried. Their lives have been shit since they got resurrected. And the past few days have been too quiet.
Sure it's great. Or was great. Nick is still glad about the whole thing, and has lightened up considerably since they've gotten some reprieve. Adam is sure some part of him believes that it's finally over for them. The being chased, the running, everything. Adam wishes he could believe it too, but to him, the quiet feels like the strange eerie silence, right before a big ass storm, waiting for the right catalyst before it hits. Tonight just seems to emphasise it. And as Adam flips the page of the book yet again, eyes flying over the words of a story he's read so many times that he knows most of it by rote, he sits a little more straighter wondering if tonight will be the one the storm hits. And then, they'll be back to their crazy hectic on-the-run lifestyle again.
Nick murmurs, as he turns over. It's as loud as a gunshot in the silence, and it pierces through Adam's own internal narration of novel. His head immediately snaps in Nick's direction wondering if the nightmares have started. Instead his gaze is met by Nick's own sleepy one, as the man rubs his eyes, sitting up.
“Bad dream?”
“No, Bathroom.” Nick's voice is rough, and heavy with sleep. Adam bites back a smile at that.
“Ah,” he replies quietly, watching Nick shuffle to the bathroom. The resulting noise of feet on the floor, the creaking of doors, the sound of water running, unconsciously sets him at ease. He settles back into the couch, less alert, and more comfortable, lost in the book under pale moonlight. The clock chimes midnight in between, and Adam dismisses it. He's vaguely aware of Nick washing up, and him shutting the door, more shuffling of feet which Adam assumes is Nick making his way back to bed. He starts when he feels Nick's hand on his shoulder, looking up.
“Come on, bed. You look terrible. You need some sleep.” Nick murmurs softly, worriedly, voice a little more awake now.
Adam snorts softly. He looks terrible in the day, so he has an inkling of what he must look like now, in the dark, when everything else seems so menacing. Gaunt pale face, black circles under his eyes, blank look in his eyes. Still though, Adam can't muster the will to sleep unless he's ass drunk and passes out. Ever since hell, his fear of nightmares, has slowly killed all reason to sleep. He's seen his mother die once. After everything, if there's one thing Adam's sure off, it's that he doesn't have the strength to relive that memory. “What are you, my mother?” The words are deliberate, said to guilt. Nick's tried to get him to rest before, more in these past few days, and Adam's learned how to avoid it. He's already prepared for the argument.
Nick's grip just tightens a little on his shoulder. Not enough to bruise or hurt, but just enough to know that he's serious. Adam waits for it, the whole lecture of how he was a Pre-Med student, with a nurse for a mother, and he should know better about what lack of sleep does to the body. Instead, Nick's next words are a soft tired, “Take some advantage of the break we've got, and get some rest. You need it. Nothing is coming for us tonight. I don't think anything is coming for us any more.”
Adam sits up straight again, as if waiting for the inevitable rush of non friendly supernatural forces to take their cue and come and wreak havoc in their lives. Minutes pass by and nothing happens. Nick's fingers start running through Adam's hair, massaging the scalp slightly, in a way that's reminiscent of how his mom would touch him, and Adam sags in his chair. He's been far too alert, far to ready to jump, and his muscles are finally voicing their protest. “Come on.” Nick says, sounding as tired as Adam feels.
Adam nods weakly, standing up and making his way to the bed. Maybe Nick is right about the whole thing. Maybe they're finally free of the crazy, the supernatural, the being chased, the running, the everything. If not for good, then at least for the time being. And even if Nick is wrong about this, he's right about Adam taking advantage of the situation to get some rest. Or make a show of it, to try and humour Nick. He collapses on the bed, feeling Nick climb in on the other side. They've stopped getting rooms with two single beds, a for a long time now. Adam didn't see the point of spending extra cash on a bed he wouldn't use. Adam rolls onto his back staring at the ceiling, and he feels Nick's fingers carding through his hair, trying to ease him into oblivion.
The salt lines still go undisturbed. Midnight sneaks away just as fast as it snuck up and it's still quiet outside. “Get some rest kiddo,” Nick repeats, still carding his fingers through Adam's hair, and Adam finally gives up. Turning on his side to face Nick, he curls up, closes his eyes, and sleeps for the first time in days, maybe even weeks.
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: Night's Fang (Inked Insanity)
Characters/Pairings: Adam, Nick.
Rating: PG
Word Count: # 1142
Summary: Adam isn't used to silence.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I think that's been established by now yeah?
A/N: So, I'm pretty sure this verse counts as AU now. Set after Country Roads.
The world is quiet outside. It's like someone put everything on mute, and the only sound that Adam can hear is Nick's soft snores. Nick, who dozed off the moment they settled into their room, and didn't wake up since. Nick, who for once the universe has decided to take mercy on, and let him turn in early, and not grace him with nightmares tonight. Adam is glad about that. The guy deserves some rest.
Adam casts another glance at Nick, from where he's curled up by the window, and flips the page of his book, worn with the number of times he's re-read it, black ink illuminated by moonlight. It's the only other sound in the room. Neither does the mechanical fan nor the clock - which now tells him that it's only eleven in the night, and it's odd because Adam isn't used to time going by so slowly and peacefully any more - make any sound.
For some reason that unnerves the shit out of him. Quiet is the word that he could use to describe the past number of days. At first it was nice, nothing chasing them, nothing happening. However, for Adam, the sheer novelty has worn off, and now paranoia has set in. While Adam doesn't want to jinx it - it's a reason why Nick and him never mention it, talking about it is like inviting trouble in again - he can't help but feel justified for being worried. Their lives have been shit since they got resurrected. And the past few days have been too quiet.
Sure it's great. Or was great. Nick is still glad about the whole thing, and has lightened up considerably since they've gotten some reprieve. Adam is sure some part of him believes that it's finally over for them. The being chased, the running, everything. Adam wishes he could believe it too, but to him, the quiet feels like the strange eerie silence, right before a big ass storm, waiting for the right catalyst before it hits. Tonight just seems to emphasise it. And as Adam flips the page of the book yet again, eyes flying over the words of a story he's read so many times that he knows most of it by rote, he sits a little more straighter wondering if tonight will be the one the storm hits. And then, they'll be back to their crazy hectic on-the-run lifestyle again.
Nick murmurs, as he turns over. It's as loud as a gunshot in the silence, and it pierces through Adam's own internal narration of novel. His head immediately snaps in Nick's direction wondering if the nightmares have started. Instead his gaze is met by Nick's own sleepy one, as the man rubs his eyes, sitting up.
“Bad dream?”
“No, Bathroom.” Nick's voice is rough, and heavy with sleep. Adam bites back a smile at that.
“Ah,” he replies quietly, watching Nick shuffle to the bathroom. The resulting noise of feet on the floor, the creaking of doors, the sound of water running, unconsciously sets him at ease. He settles back into the couch, less alert, and more comfortable, lost in the book under pale moonlight. The clock chimes midnight in between, and Adam dismisses it. He's vaguely aware of Nick washing up, and him shutting the door, more shuffling of feet which Adam assumes is Nick making his way back to bed. He starts when he feels Nick's hand on his shoulder, looking up.
“Come on, bed. You look terrible. You need some sleep.” Nick murmurs softly, worriedly, voice a little more awake now.
Adam snorts softly. He looks terrible in the day, so he has an inkling of what he must look like now, in the dark, when everything else seems so menacing. Gaunt pale face, black circles under his eyes, blank look in his eyes. Still though, Adam can't muster the will to sleep unless he's ass drunk and passes out. Ever since hell, his fear of nightmares, has slowly killed all reason to sleep. He's seen his mother die once. After everything, if there's one thing Adam's sure off, it's that he doesn't have the strength to relive that memory. “What are you, my mother?” The words are deliberate, said to guilt. Nick's tried to get him to rest before, more in these past few days, and Adam's learned how to avoid it. He's already prepared for the argument.
Nick's grip just tightens a little on his shoulder. Not enough to bruise or hurt, but just enough to know that he's serious. Adam waits for it, the whole lecture of how he was a Pre-Med student, with a nurse for a mother, and he should know better about what lack of sleep does to the body. Instead, Nick's next words are a soft tired, “Take some advantage of the break we've got, and get some rest. You need it. Nothing is coming for us tonight. I don't think anything is coming for us any more.”
Adam sits up straight again, as if waiting for the inevitable rush of non friendly supernatural forces to take their cue and come and wreak havoc in their lives. Minutes pass by and nothing happens. Nick's fingers start running through Adam's hair, massaging the scalp slightly, in a way that's reminiscent of how his mom would touch him, and Adam sags in his chair. He's been far too alert, far to ready to jump, and his muscles are finally voicing their protest. “Come on.” Nick says, sounding as tired as Adam feels.
Adam nods weakly, standing up and making his way to the bed. Maybe Nick is right about the whole thing. Maybe they're finally free of the crazy, the supernatural, the being chased, the running, the everything. If not for good, then at least for the time being. And even if Nick is wrong about this, he's right about Adam taking advantage of the situation to get some rest. Or make a show of it, to try and humour Nick. He collapses on the bed, feeling Nick climb in on the other side. They've stopped getting rooms with two single beds, a for a long time now. Adam didn't see the point of spending extra cash on a bed he wouldn't use. Adam rolls onto his back staring at the ceiling, and he feels Nick's fingers carding through his hair, trying to ease him into oblivion.
The salt lines still go undisturbed. Midnight sneaks away just as fast as it snuck up and it's still quiet outside. “Get some rest kiddo,” Nick repeats, still carding his fingers through Adam's hair, and Adam finally gives up. Turning on his side to face Nick, he curls up, closes his eyes, and sleeps for the first time in days, maybe even weeks.