Spn ficlet... back on the fic horse after a LONG absence!
Spoiler warning: Mild season 6 (to 6x06)
Too much knowledge is a dangerous thing. If you'd asked him two, maybe three years ago, he would have said that the opposite was true, but now...now he gets it. Now he knows.
Five.
The breeze from the window ghosted over the back of his neck; for a moment, he imagined that he felt cold, or nervous, or something. He stood there noiseless and on the brink of something terrible. Her face seemed so far away. He heard a heart purring in the hush of the bedroom and realised, distantly, that it was hers. Christ. What was he here for? He started away from her, meaning for that to be it...except, of course, that he could move silently then...and he woke her anyway.
Four.
Eyes screwed tight against that thought, that singular violent thought, he reached out blindly and pushed. It was necessary. It was hard. It was the right thing to do. That look on the kid's face, though - that should have upset him more than it did. Told himself later it was natural to feel that - he'd just saved the kid's life. Natural. Yeah. That's the problem.
Three.
Samuel was here to save him. What kind of hunter is that guy? Wants to raise the inhuman and save the damned. The set of his jaw said he meant business. If only Dean had been paying attention, because then - right then - he could have seen all the rest of it, too.
Two.
Pain like this is not unbearable. Sure, he's writhing around on the floor; sure, he's throwing up like he drank four pints of that god-awful gunk; yeah, sure, but...in the middle of that pain comes a sharper, more immediate pain.
One.
Sam saw me, he thinks. Scratch that. He knows. Sam saw, and he did nothing.
So, yes. He gets it now. What's natural, what's right, what's necessary. He knows.
Fin.
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