Drabble Fic - Blood Stains (11.17)
Title: Blood Stains
Summary: 11.17 Drabble fic. Sam's in hospital, but Dean's the one who needs to recover. A re-working of the closing scene (all dialogue taken from the episode).
Rating: PG13
Genre/Spoilers: Gen. Spoilers for Season 11.
Warnings: None (but this is unbeta'd).
Word Count: 300
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural that privilege belongs to CW, Kripke and Co, I'm simply borrowing them for a while. I'm not making a profit, this is just for fun and all the standard disclaimers apply.
Blood Stains
Dean takes a deep breath, and then pushes the door open.
Sam's lying in a hospital bed, IV's snaking around his battered body, pumping him with drugs and blood, and god knows what else. “How is she?”
“She's strong. She'll be all right.” Dean takes a seat next to Sam's bed, trying not to stare or dislodge any of the medical equipment that his brother's hooked up to.
Hand hovering protectively over his bullet wound, Sam winces as he shuffles up higher on the pillows behind his shoulders. “Hey, so what did you do? When you thought I was dead, what did you do?”
Dean's not sure he can do this now, bring up the pills and Billie; not with Sam still recovering in hospital, not when he still has his brother's blood under his fingernails, and a bullet stained with tacky blood in his pocket.
“Thought about redecorating your room, you know. Putting in a Jacuzzi, a nice disco ball, really class up the joint.” He grins, because if he doesn't he'll drown in a flood of emotions he can't hold back. Sam died, and Dean wasn't even in the room. And yeah, maybe Sam was only mostly dead, but that's not how Dean's going to remember it.
“Right. Seriously?” A smile spreads across Sam's weary face.
“What? I, uh, I knew you weren't dead.”
“Right.” Sam's still smiling, but he's shaking his head like he's not buying anything Dean's trying to sell.
“I knew!”
If Dean focus's on the colour creeping back into Sam's face, and blurs out this hospital room, if he pushes aside Michelle's words, and tucks his blood-stained hands out of sight, then for a moment he can at least pretend that everything is back to normal.
A/N: I think I'm still in recovery from this episode, so much so, that I had no idea what to drabble! So this purely stems from my own wish that the closing scene was done from the hospital (hey, I'm a h/c junkie!) Such a strong episode and I adored every damn second of it!
Summary: 11.17 Drabble fic. Sam's in hospital, but Dean's the one who needs to recover. A re-working of the closing scene (all dialogue taken from the episode).
Rating: PG13
Genre/Spoilers: Gen. Spoilers for Season 11.
Warnings: None (but this is unbeta'd).
Word Count: 300
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural that privilege belongs to CW, Kripke and Co, I'm simply borrowing them for a while. I'm not making a profit, this is just for fun and all the standard disclaimers apply.
Blood Stains
Dean takes a deep breath, and then pushes the door open.
Sam's lying in a hospital bed, IV's snaking around his battered body, pumping him with drugs and blood, and god knows what else. “How is she?”
“She's strong. She'll be all right.” Dean takes a seat next to Sam's bed, trying not to stare or dislodge any of the medical equipment that his brother's hooked up to.
Hand hovering protectively over his bullet wound, Sam winces as he shuffles up higher on the pillows behind his shoulders. “Hey, so what did you do? When you thought I was dead, what did you do?”
Dean's not sure he can do this now, bring up the pills and Billie; not with Sam still recovering in hospital, not when he still has his brother's blood under his fingernails, and a bullet stained with tacky blood in his pocket.
“Thought about redecorating your room, you know. Putting in a Jacuzzi, a nice disco ball, really class up the joint.” He grins, because if he doesn't he'll drown in a flood of emotions he can't hold back. Sam died, and Dean wasn't even in the room. And yeah, maybe Sam was only mostly dead, but that's not how Dean's going to remember it.
“Right. Seriously?” A smile spreads across Sam's weary face.
“What? I, uh, I knew you weren't dead.”
“Right.” Sam's still smiling, but he's shaking his head like he's not buying anything Dean's trying to sell.
“I knew!”
If Dean focus's on the colour creeping back into Sam's face, and blurs out this hospital room, if he pushes aside Michelle's words, and tucks his blood-stained hands out of sight, then for a moment he can at least pretend that everything is back to normal.
A/N: I think I'm still in recovery from this episode, so much so, that I had no idea what to drabble! So this purely stems from my own wish that the closing scene was done from the hospital (hey, I'm a h/c junkie!) Such a strong episode and I adored every damn second of it!