Saving me, saving you (Dean/Sam; ficlet)
You smile…and it feels strange on your lips. Actually you feel strange in your own body, like it isn’t your body, not really. You have opened your eyes, feeling exhausted and aching all over.
You remember everything: you remember Lucifer, how much he was gloating as he took his time in killing Dean. You remember fighting, holding Lucifer down, screaming in agony at the thought of Dean, dying.
Dean….Dean…Dean…
Where is he? It’s your mantra, as you free yourself from the IV and slowly get up from the cot.
Dean….Dean…Dean.
You remember his face, right before jumping in the cage. You remember the blood, how swollen his face was. Lucifer had hurt him: broken bones, internal injuries and Dean had taken it all.
Dean had wanted to die.
He has to be alive, he has to be safe…please, let him be safe, please! Your mind keeps going through this words, over and over, as you take some steps in the room and your body almost seem foreign to you. You need to focus on how to walk, how to breathe, for a moment.
Your mind is stuck on Dean, Bobby and Castiel. Who brought you here? Where’s Dean?
You are afraid, as you reach the living room. You almost don’t recognize your own voice as you say his name.
Dean.
He turns, toward you…and there’s disbelief in his eyes, and in a second you register so many things that later will come back and haunt you: he looks older, weary to the bone, he has lost some weight, his eyes are too sad, deep pools of the old familiar self loathing and something new, something you still don’t know…still don’t recognize.
He is speechless…and relief floods you, as you see him standing up, slowly, his gaze locked on you.
alive…home…mine…never gonna leave you again…home…mine…
You close the distance between you two, a gap that you feel in your bones, in your gut and blood and hug him, muffling whatever was coming out from Dean’s mouth.
He’s alive, and his skin is too hot against your body, and he has indeed lost weight and fits perfectly against you, like he’s always done. He smells like Old Spice and whiskey and Dean…
You can feel his heart, beating against your chest…and for a split second, you let your mind wander…to the night before you left for Detroit, when you both allowed yourselves to be together, really together, without pretenses and lies and darkness. You let your mind wander, lulled by his heartbeat.
You hold him tighter, closing your eyes, wondering whether he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, wondering if he remembers that night…and the others as well. It feels like coming home…and that weird feeling of not belonging, to your own body, nagging at you, ever since you opened your eyes fades. You hold him, consumed for a moment by the selfish need to feel his skin, to make sure he’s alive…that you both are.
You’re both alive. You’re both home.
Hazel meet green…and you see the incredulity in Dean’s eyes, the relief…and the love. He loves you…he brought you back.
He saved you.
You smile, and this time, it doesn’t seem weird, as another realization, hits you.
You feel his fingers digging in your shoulders, as if he’s afraid you could go. As if you could ever leave him again.
The realization is exhilarating and wonderful…and so simple…
You have saved each other.