the stain of love [spn][flash fiction]
Title: The Stain of Love
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 380
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There’s light in Sam’s eyes.
Notes: For spn_30snapshots, prompt under the cut. Set immediately post-season four, AU.
The stain of love,
Is upon the world.
- Love Song
William Carlos William
Dean turns his face away, his hands still on Sam. He keeps moving them, though. From Sam’s jacket, to his shoulders, to his arm. Back to his jacket, right next to Sam’s drumming heart.
There’s so much light.
Dean’s lips at Sam’s ear, then. “Stop looking!” he’s shouting. “The fuck are you doing, look away!”
He grabs Sam, hand at the back of his skull, tries to force Sam’s head to dip. Sam shakes him off, shrugs him away.
“Sam!”
But, no. No, what gives him the right? Why should he look away? Why shouldn’t he see what he’s done. It makes sense to Sam, but he can’t find the words or the voice to explain it to Dean.
“Stop looking!” Dean’s voice is shrill, panicked. Everything’s shaking. The floor, the ceiling. Dean’s hands.
The light pulses, once. Spreads and then falls back into itself. Like a heartbeat, Sam thinks.
They’re on their knees then, and Dean’s trying to push Sam down, using all his strength. Sam’s resolve is stronger.
“No!” says Dean. There’s a whining in Sam’s ears, the wet drip of something sliding down the sides of his neck as the hell screams through the shutter of blood on the floor and the light, there’s so much light.
Dean’s begging. Trying to drag him up, now. Make up your mind. Sam’s on his feet, and then he’s by the shut doors, Dean’s hand in his, but his eyes are still behind him.
You watch, says something in Sam’s head. You watch, you son of a bitch. You were running this show, now you watch.
“Sammy, please,” Dean says, voice muffled now in Sam’s broken ears, and the floor shakes harder than ever. Something tells Sam this is it. He grabs Dean, pulls him around, forces Dean’s head down into his shoulder.
“Don’t look,” says Sam.
It’s so bright.
There’s light in Sam’s eyes, and then fire. Fire like every other he’s every experienced, digging deep.
And then there’s nothing. Nothing but eerie quiet and Dean’s ribs expanding against his own, and darkness.
Something flows down his cheeks.
“Oh God,” says Dean, from far away. Across a universe. He pulls away. “Oh God.”
Sam blinks, and it’s not normal.
This is my life, he thinks. I’m sorry for it.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam, Dean
Word Count: 380
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There’s light in Sam’s eyes.
Notes: For spn_30snapshots, prompt under the cut. Set immediately post-season four, AU.
The stain of love,
Is upon the world.
- Love Song
William Carlos William
Dean turns his face away, his hands still on Sam. He keeps moving them, though. From Sam’s jacket, to his shoulders, to his arm. Back to his jacket, right next to Sam’s drumming heart.
There’s so much light.
Dean’s lips at Sam’s ear, then. “Stop looking!” he’s shouting. “The fuck are you doing, look away!”
He grabs Sam, hand at the back of his skull, tries to force Sam’s head to dip. Sam shakes him off, shrugs him away.
“Sam!”
But, no. No, what gives him the right? Why should he look away? Why shouldn’t he see what he’s done. It makes sense to Sam, but he can’t find the words or the voice to explain it to Dean.
“Stop looking!” Dean’s voice is shrill, panicked. Everything’s shaking. The floor, the ceiling. Dean’s hands.
The light pulses, once. Spreads and then falls back into itself. Like a heartbeat, Sam thinks.
They’re on their knees then, and Dean’s trying to push Sam down, using all his strength. Sam’s resolve is stronger.
“No!” says Dean. There’s a whining in Sam’s ears, the wet drip of something sliding down the sides of his neck as the hell screams through the shutter of blood on the floor and the light, there’s so much light.
Dean’s begging. Trying to drag him up, now. Make up your mind. Sam’s on his feet, and then he’s by the shut doors, Dean’s hand in his, but his eyes are still behind him.
You watch, says something in Sam’s head. You watch, you son of a bitch. You were running this show, now you watch.
“Sammy, please,” Dean says, voice muffled now in Sam’s broken ears, and the floor shakes harder than ever. Something tells Sam this is it. He grabs Dean, pulls him around, forces Dean’s head down into his shoulder.
“Don’t look,” says Sam.
It’s so bright.
There’s light in Sam’s eyes, and then fire. Fire like every other he’s every experienced, digging deep.
And then there’s nothing. Nothing but eerie quiet and Dean’s ribs expanding against his own, and darkness.
Something flows down his cheeks.
“Oh God,” says Dean, from far away. Across a universe. He pulls away. “Oh God.”
Sam blinks, and it’s not normal.
This is my life, he thinks. I’m sorry for it.