Thawing of the Ice
Title: Thawing of the Ice (Black Ice, 500 Themes Prompt#7)
Author: litlove_hope
Fandom: Supernatural
Word Count: 3,426
Warnings: Slightly schmoopy, some cuddling in front of the fire, and the use of a particular word that I'm not sure the boys in the cannon really know how to even say.
Summary: Sam falls into the ice, Dean saves him, and he learns a few things in between.
Notes: I wrote this a long time ago, after searching Lj for prompts. I don't know if it makes any sense, but here it is.
The Thawing of the Ice
They’d been walking towards an old farm house, located in the middle of nowhere, in Nowheresville Wisconsin, in the beginning of January. Snow was falling everywhere, adding to the already two meters high of snow that had already made its home on the ground for the winter. It wasn’t an exceptionally cold day, but it was still cold enough to be wrapped up in layers of clothing, scarves, toques and gloves, topped off with thick winter jackets, and still feel cold as they watched their breath dissipate into the frigid air.
They’d been arguing, which wasn’t uncommon, but wasn’t exactly something Sam like to do. It was over the apocalypse, of course, and on their differing opinions about it, which, if Sam ever thought about it, was so few, that anyone watching would think they were completely crazy for arguing about it. They’d calmed down over the past few hours, as they put their attention to the hunt, and focused on meeting with the old man that lived across the lake on the edge of the forest. For some reason they were unable to find the road that led to his house, and after spying his house not far from where they were, Dean insisted on simply walking there, rather than spend the rest of the day looking for a road that had long since disappeared under the snow. Sam hadn’t been too thrilled with the idea, after seeing that the temperature read -20 on his phone. It wasn’t freezing cold, but it was definitely cold enough.
They were walking across a field on their way to the house, arms tight against their bodies, their hands shoved deep into their pockets to keep any warmth from slipping out of their fingers. Dean was walking ahead of them, leading the way like he always seemed to have to naturally do. Sam huffed as he trudged onwards, the cold stealing his strength away as well as his breath.
“Dean - hey, Dean!”
“What?!”
“I think we should -.”
“You know what Sam? I’m kinda sick of your ‘think we should’s’!”
Yeah, he was definitely still pissed about the argument they’d had earlier. It seemed Dean’s ability to wind down from a fight was becoming less and less these days.
“Right now we’re gonna talk to this guy, so you can just keep walking!”
Sam kept huffing as his eyes narrowed into a glare, annoyance festering inside him. Though as soon as the annoyance rose, it was immediately squashed down with guilt. He knew that everything that had been happening lately was a result of him - that it was his fault they were where they were. But did Dean really have to be a constant jackass all the time about it?
Then just as Sam was about to reply, his whole world fell on its head.
One minute he was walking, watching Dean’s back as he walked in front of him, and the next, he was floundering. It felt like a thousand needles were being stabbed everywhere on his body, and he flailed his arms and legs in an attempt to get them off. He unconsciously opened his eyes, only to quickly close them again.
He didn’t know where he was, or what was going on.
But then suddenly, a bright light shone in his face. Startled, he opened his eyes, and was surprised when he saw a woman floating in front of him.
She was floating gently before him, her long white hair cascading around her neck and body, as though protecting all around her. Every part of her gave off a light, and a part of Sam’s mind whispered that she was shining like the stars.
She was watching Sam intently, and he had no idea what she was doing. Somewhere in the back of his mind it finally registered that he was under water, but that was overshadowed by the fact that there was a woman under the water with him.
Sam stared at her, and found that no matter what, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. She was beautiful. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and the last thing he wanted to do was look away.
But there was another factor making itself known.
He couldn’t breathe.
Sam started moving, grasping at his throat, shoving his arms down, trying to make his way to the surface - at least, what he thought was the surface. He wasn’t sure which way was up anymore, or which was down. He just knew he needed air, and now.
And then she was right in front of him. Sam unconsciously moved his head back, as she lifted her hand to his face. He couldn’t move far, however, and she easily took his face in her hands. She caressed his cheek gently, and smiled, before closing her eyes and bringing her lips to his.
Hello, Sam Winchester.
Sam’s eyes closed as their lips touched, and any struggle to move away left him, as he relaxed in her hold.
And then suddenly, he could breathe.
It was like her mouth was a gateway to oxygen, and he was desperate for more. She moved her hand behind his head, steadying him, as he breathed for the first time in what felt like an age.
You carry much pain, Sam Winchester.
I know, Sam thought. I know I do. But I deserve it. Every last bit of it. Every last drop.
No. This burden is not yours to carry. Not yours alone. Far greater things, beyond any of your control, have been working for a long time to be able to try and place this burden on your shoulders.
I’m the one drinking demon blood. I’m the one trusting a demon. I’m the one who let Dean die.
Redemption awaits those who ask for it. Do you ask for it, Sam Winchester?
She leaned back, and looked into his eyes, as her hand reached up to push his hair out of his eyes.
I don’t know how, he thought. I don’t think I deserve it.
She brought her lips to his again, and Sam breathed once more.
It is not your fault your brother died. He made that choice. He made it for you. Do not take the weight of such an act lightly.
I don’t. I know the sacrifice he made for me. I know what it cost him.
Then do not blame yourself.
But-.
She pulled back once more, and this time she moved away, a soft smile was left on her lips.
You are a wonderful human, Sam Winchester. Do not doubt that. Your brother is as well. Do not doubt him. Place your trust in that which is higher than yourself. Make the choices that you know are right. Not the choices that you’re told.
Who am I supposed to trust? The demons? The angels?
The woman’s face darkened, and her light seemed to dim, and Sam realized that she was floating further and further away.
Demons are liars, and deceivers. Do not ever trust them.
What about the angels?
Remember, Sam Winchester, that in the beginning, demons were once angels, too.
And suddenly, there were hands on his shoulders, grabbing onto his jacket, and Sam stared at the woman as he was dragged upwards, until suddenly he was out of the water, and she was gone.
He was pulled onto the ice, spluttering, coughing, trying to grab hold of the icy air and shove it down his lungs so that he could breathe.
"SAM! SAM!”
Sam was more cold than he’d ever been in his life, and he struggled to gain awareness of his surroundings. Dean was beside him, he knew that, but he also knew he couldn’t move. Not really. Everything just felt incredibly numb, and he knew that if Dean hadn’t been holding him up, he’d have fallen long ago.
Dean had wrapped him up best he could, before he frantically half dragged, half carried him towards the farmer’s house. They had already been three quarters of the way there, and from the smoke rising through the chimney, Dean knew he’d have a far better chance at saving his brother up than he would if he risked going back on the lake towards the car.
When they’d arrived at the front step, the door was already opened, and they were met with the wrinkled, worried face of an old man, who would later tell them he had seen them coming towards his house, and from the way they were walking, he knew something was wrong. He ushered them inside quickly, and closed the door behind them. He took them to the couch, which was near the fireplace, which was crackling away, warming the house with its finger tips, and now beginning to reach its way towards the two newest occupants.
Dean placed Sam on the couch, and between him and the old man, they were able to get Sam out of his wet clothes, and covered him with a warm, woolen blanket. The old man mentioned something about body heat being the best way to bring his temperature safely back up, and without even really thinking about it, Dean was shirking off his jacket and sweaters, until he was down to just the long underclothes of his lower body. He wanted to leave Sam on the couch where it was more comfortable, but he knew that at the moment, heat was more necessary than comfort. He gently pulled Sam off the couch and onto the floor in front of the fire. He wrapped his arms around his brother, and shivered at the touch of his cold skin. The old man brought another blanket, and Dean gratefully let him wrap it around them both, until they were so cocooned together, that Dean wondered if it wouldn’t be a miracle to get them out.
They sat like that for a long while, Dean holding on tightly to Sam, with Sam’s head leaning against Dean’s shoulder and under his chin, fast asleep. Ever so often, Dean would reach down to Sam’s wrist, and press his fingers on it gently, and close his eyes in silent relief when he would find the weak, but steady, beating pulse. Dean watched the fire dance in front of him, as slowly the light outside dimmed, and Dean wondered if maybe the reason the sun left so early in the winter was because the cold was too much for it, too.
A few hours after they’d arrived, Dean could feel Sam shift, and he looked down to see Sam slowly cracking open his eyes.
Sam blinked for a few moments, trying to figure out where he was. The first thing he saw was the fire, and the warmth it gave as it wrapped itself around him. The next thing he realized was that he ached - everywhere. He then realized he felt cold. Not freezing cold, and not so cold that he couldn’t feel the warmth of the fire, but it felt like a cold had seeped all the way down into his bones, and was only just beginning to finally disappear. There was something else, Sam thought, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was something else he was missing...
“You awake, Sam?”
Dean.
Sam lifted his head slightly, and he quickly wished he hadn’t, because it felt like he was lifting a thousand pounds when he did, but he had to see if Dean was really beside him, or just a whisper in his mind... a remnant of a dream long past. He looked up, and saw Dean looking down at him, his face filled with poorly masked worry.
"Dean?” he asked, and tried to sit further up, so as to gage what was around him, but found when he moved, he was stopped by strong, warm arms on his side. He turned his head to glance to his right, and upon realizing that he was covered by a blanket, turned back to Dean, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Dean, what-.”
“You fell in the lake, Sammy.”
Sam stared at his brother, not comprehending. Dean’s face was one of naked worry, and Sam wondered what had happened to scare his brother so bad.
“You fell...?” Sam repeated, trying to understand. His brother had fallen in the lake? Was that why they were together under a blanket in front of a fire? Because his brother needed to be warmed up?
“No Sammy,” Dean said, the tips of his mouth turned up in the barest hint of a smile. “You fell in the lake. Not me.”
Oh. So it had been himself that needed to be warmed up. Made sense, Sam thought, since really nothing else did.
“What happened?” he asked, trying to move his head to get a better view of his brother, but finding it incredibly difficult to do so.
Dean looked away from him, and stared into the fire. He was silent for a moment, before finally,
“We were walking. I - I didn’t realize we were walking across a lake. I thought it was just a field. If I’d have known-.”
Sam squeezed Dean’s arm gently, having found it beside his own underneath all the blankets, silently telling him that everything was okay. That whatever it was, it wasn’t his fault.
Dean took a breath, then continued.
“We were arguing, and... and then you stopped talking. I thought you were just sulking, so I ignored it, but then I asked another question, and when you didn’t answer I turned around, and - and you were gone. You were just gone, Sam.”
Sam’s head felt like it was made of wool, and he struggled to understand his brother. Where did he go? Where could he have gone if he had been following his brother? Did he leave? Again? He hadn’t wanted to, if he did. He’d just gotten his brother back - why would he leave him? Why would he-.
“No! No, you didn’t leave Sammy, you didn’t leave. Not like that.”
Sam wondered for a moment if Dean was somehow reading his thoughts, but then realized that he must have been talking out loud.
“So I was gone? Gone where?” he asked, his voice coming out as a whisper, because he found he couldn’t really speak much louder. It hurt too much.
Dean’s face twisted into that of grief, and for a moment Sam wished he hadn’t spoken, but before he could say anything, Dean continued.
“There was water everywhere, coming from a hole in the ice. I realized you had fallen through. That you were in the lake.”
A figure appeared in Sam’s mind. A woman, white, and bright, and beautiful. Sam frowned. Who was she? How was she-.
“I had been walking for a while since I’d last talked to you, so I didn’t know how long you’d been under there. I ran back as fast as I could.” He suddenly turned to Sam, his face desperate. “You gotta believe me, Sam, I ran as fast as I could - as fast as I could.”
Sam wasn’t sure why Dean was scared he wouldn’t believe him, but Sam nodded anyway.
"I believe you.” He said, looking up at his brother with wide eyes, his brother’s worry seeping into his own.
This seemed to calm Dean down, and he took another breath before continuing.
"I reached into the hole, and I tried to find you, tried to grab onto you - but I couldn’t. You weren’t there, and for a moment I’d thought maybe you’d been dragged to the bottom of the lake, that all your clothes had filled with water and now you were drowning.”
The grief in Dean’s tone was evident, and Sam found himself worrying about the outcome. Did he save him? Did Dean find him in time? How did he find him?
“I was about to jump in, to go after you, but then suddenly, you were there. It was like one moment I couldn’t find the barest hint of you, and the next, I was grabbing onto your arm, and pulling you out. I checked to see if you were breathing, and after hitting your chest a few times, you were.”
Dean chuckled.
“I thought for sure I’d have to CPR. But all you needed was to be hit a couple times, and you were fine.”
Dean stared into the fire, talking more to himself now, than to Sam.
“I thought for sure you’d need CPR. You’d been under for over two minutes, at least. I thought for sure...”
Sam stared up at his brother, his brain still thick with wool, and wondering why this fact seemed so important to Dean. But if Dean wasn’t worried anymore, then neither was he.
Sam looked away from Dean, and back towards the fire, trying to sort through everything, trying make things make sense. It seemed like his brother could sense this, and he tightened his grip around Sam in response.
“Go to sleep, Sammy. Don’t worry about it. Just sleep for now.”
Sam blinked, his eyes suddenly feeling very heavy, and he let himself relax against Dean’s chest. After a while, as Sam stared into the crackling flames of the fireplace, and Dean had thought he had gone to sleep, he spoke.
“A woman saved me.”
Dean snapped his eyes back open, and he stiffened, Sam’s words taking him by surprise.
“What?” he asked, not moving, hoping Sam’s words were just remnants of a fog filled and confused mind.
“A woman saved me. When I was in the water.”
Dean looked down at Sam, and saw that he was staring at the fire through half closed eyes. Dean wanted to just write off the comment as nothing, but with all that he knew, with all that he’d experienced, he knew there was a very real chance that Sam was somehow telling the truth.
“What did she look like, Sam?” he asked cautiously, not wanting to freak Sam out. Usually had had no problem interrogating his younger brother, but he knew for a fact that when Sam was hurt, and he was confused, that he scared very easily. Especially when he wasn’t sure what all was really going on.
Sam closed his eyes, and pressed his head deeper into Dean’s chest.
“She was beautiful. And bright. Like the stars.”
“And what happened after that, Sam? Did she do anything to you?”
Sam tightened his grip on Dean’s arm gently, and began rubbing his thumb against the skin absentmindedly.
"We talked. And then she breathed for me.”
Dean wanted to pin his brother as crazy, but at the moment, he knew his brother couldn’t have been more sane. He mentally went through a list of monsters, trying to find any that fit the description his brother was giving him.
“What’d you talk about, Sammy?” he asked.
"Stuff. You, me, the angels, the demons... and then she kissed me. And I could breathe again. I could breathe again...”
Sam was nodding off, Dean could tell that from a mile away, and while he wanted more information, he didn’t want to stop Sam from falling back asleep. After a moment, though, Sam spoke again.
“She said I should trust you, Dean. And that you should trust me. That we should trust each other.”
Dean looked down at the floor, not sure what to say.
“That’s kinda... kinda hard, right now. For the both of us.”
Sam kept staring at the fire, never once stopping his thumb from rubbing gently against Dean’s arm.
"Then let’s start over. Let’s just forget about the past few months, and just start new. Well... not forget, maybe... but maybe... forgive. ‘kay?”
Dean couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips. Part of his response was to just placate Sam, and make him feel alright. He knew that trust wasn’t as easy as Sam was making it sound, but part of him, deep down, couldn’t help but agree.
“Okay.”
After a few minutes, Sam began to nod off, but before he fell into sleep, he managed to whisper three quiet words.
“Love you, Dean.”
Dean tried to ignore the burning that rose to the back of his eyes, and did his best to blame it on the smoke from the fire, and from all the adrenaline and fear that had come from nearly losing Sam again. After a while Sam’s breathing evened out, and he fell completely lax in Dean’s arms. Dean gently brushed Sam’s hair from his forehead, and replied softly,
“I love you too, Sammy.”
Sam smiled