(no subject)
Apparently I wrote a bit of demon blood detox--back when, y'know, we thought Sam would have to do the panic room detox again--and forgot all about it! So I'm putting it here now, when it's totally irrelevant. :D
-
When Sam comes out of it, Dean's waiting, crouched by the bed with a glass of water and a frown.
"Hey," he says, straightening up and peering into Sam's eyes. (Yellow for a second, twisted--but when Sam blinks they're fully green again.)
"Who was it?" Dean asks. "You were shaking your head and stuff, but you didn't say anything this time."
(Jess was first--white dress blood in her hair angry eyes, and that one was--that one was bad. Lilith was second and Ruby third. Sam wonders how many it'll be, total; just exactly how fucked up his subconscious is.) He closes his eyes muzzily as Dean tips his head up for the water. "Just Dad," he mumbles against the edge of the glass. "Saying what he usually does, pretty much."
Dean snorts and Sam opens his mouth to gulp down the water. He's always loved the water here--it tastes cool and tinny and almost sweet, much better than the crappy tap they always end up drinking out of motel sinks. He finishes the entire glass.
"You didn't argue with him?" Dean asks, scrubbing his fingers through Sam's hair absently and wiping some water off Sam's chin with his cuff.
He's been more affectionate since--since, like he knows it doesn't matter anymore. (Or maybe, like Sam, he just wants his brother closer. The thought puts a blurred point of warmth in Sam’s stomach.)
He shrugs as much as he can. "No point," he says.
He lets his head fall back against the pillows and opens his eyes, tired already but wanting to be here as long as he can. He moves so he can look at Dean, who's putting the glass back with the pitcher.
"Never seemed to stop you before," his brother says, turning back to grin at him. None of the vicious sharpness it might've had, before, just gentle. "You two could argue about pointless shit for hours."
"Shut up," Sam rasps, half his mouth curling with a smile.
They lie silent for a few minutes--Dean leaning against the chair and Sam staring up as the fan slices light over the room again and again. Feels a shiver as he remembers last time (monster) and twists his hands in the leather. "Dean," he mumbles, feeling all of six years old and wanting his big brother to come rescue him, hide him away so nothing can get them.
"Yeah, Sam?"
Sam closes his eyes again. "I want this to be over."
"Hey, real soon, okay?" Dean says gently. "You're doing great, Sammy. Not much longer, I promise. You're doing so good, man."
He runs his knuckles over Sam's neck and strokes his hair. Sam's so busy concentrating on that at first that he doesn't notice Dean humming--low, rough, warm--till it seems natural.
"Is that 'Enter Sandman?'" he asks, when he places the melody.
"It's the only lullaby I know, okay?" Dean mutters, rubbing lightly at the hollow behind Sam's ear. "Bitch."
Sam smiles.
-
Aaand on a completely different track, last night I watched most of House of Wax. Which--okay, that movie isn't supposed to be scary, right? It's supposed to be lulzy Paris Hilton/overblown plot crackiness? WELL IT FREAKED ME OUT. Possibly this is because I was alone and it was fairly late at night--POSSIBLY JUST BECAUSE I AM A HUGE CHICKEN. AAAAAAAH. Also (SPOILERS) JPADD DIES, that was traumatic. D: (/SPOILERS). I have noticed something amusing about myself though, which is that I tend to ship incest ships in horror movies. I was totally shipping CMM's character/his sister. Yeah that's right. This also happened in Friday the 13th with Clay and Whitney. I swear, horror movies are so conducive to incest! WHY IS THIS? AM I CRAZY? (Well, yes, but specifically on this issue, I mean. /o\)
-
When Sam comes out of it, Dean's waiting, crouched by the bed with a glass of water and a frown.
"Hey," he says, straightening up and peering into Sam's eyes. (Yellow for a second, twisted--but when Sam blinks they're fully green again.)
"Who was it?" Dean asks. "You were shaking your head and stuff, but you didn't say anything this time."
(Jess was first--white dress blood in her hair angry eyes, and that one was--that one was bad. Lilith was second and Ruby third. Sam wonders how many it'll be, total; just exactly how fucked up his subconscious is.) He closes his eyes muzzily as Dean tips his head up for the water. "Just Dad," he mumbles against the edge of the glass. "Saying what he usually does, pretty much."
Dean snorts and Sam opens his mouth to gulp down the water. He's always loved the water here--it tastes cool and tinny and almost sweet, much better than the crappy tap they always end up drinking out of motel sinks. He finishes the entire glass.
"You didn't argue with him?" Dean asks, scrubbing his fingers through Sam's hair absently and wiping some water off Sam's chin with his cuff.
He's been more affectionate since--since, like he knows it doesn't matter anymore. (Or maybe, like Sam, he just wants his brother closer. The thought puts a blurred point of warmth in Sam’s stomach.)
He shrugs as much as he can. "No point," he says.
He lets his head fall back against the pillows and opens his eyes, tired already but wanting to be here as long as he can. He moves so he can look at Dean, who's putting the glass back with the pitcher.
"Never seemed to stop you before," his brother says, turning back to grin at him. None of the vicious sharpness it might've had, before, just gentle. "You two could argue about pointless shit for hours."
"Shut up," Sam rasps, half his mouth curling with a smile.
They lie silent for a few minutes--Dean leaning against the chair and Sam staring up as the fan slices light over the room again and again. Feels a shiver as he remembers last time (monster) and twists his hands in the leather. "Dean," he mumbles, feeling all of six years old and wanting his big brother to come rescue him, hide him away so nothing can get them.
"Yeah, Sam?"
Sam closes his eyes again. "I want this to be over."
"Hey, real soon, okay?" Dean says gently. "You're doing great, Sammy. Not much longer, I promise. You're doing so good, man."
He runs his knuckles over Sam's neck and strokes his hair. Sam's so busy concentrating on that at first that he doesn't notice Dean humming--low, rough, warm--till it seems natural.
"Is that 'Enter Sandman?'" he asks, when he places the melody.
"It's the only lullaby I know, okay?" Dean mutters, rubbing lightly at the hollow behind Sam's ear. "Bitch."
Sam smiles.
-
Aaand on a completely different track, last night I watched most of House of Wax. Which--okay, that movie isn't supposed to be scary, right? It's supposed to be lulzy Paris Hilton/overblown plot crackiness? WELL IT FREAKED ME OUT. Possibly this is because I was alone and it was fairly late at night--POSSIBLY JUST BECAUSE I AM A HUGE CHICKEN. AAAAAAAH. Also (SPOILERS) JPADD DIES, that was traumatic. D: (/SPOILERS). I have noticed something amusing about myself though, which is that I tend to ship incest ships in horror movies. I was totally shipping CMM's character/his sister. Yeah that's right. This also happened in Friday the 13th with Clay and Whitney. I swear, horror movies are so conducive to incest! WHY IS THIS? AM I CRAZY? (Well, yes, but specifically on this issue, I mean. /o\)