Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/5wave_obscuraApril 27 2011, 13:43:52 UTC
“You’re okay, Sammy. And I’m okay. And tomorrow morning we’re gonna walk and then no more cages, okay? Ever.”
Sam took a rattling breath. He was trying hard to hold on. “Don’t let me pass out, Dean. I’ll go there.”
“I’m not gonna let you pass out.”
“How much longer?”
“Just a little while. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re with me, Sammy. Not him. Not him. You’re with me. We just got in a bar fight, and you were awesome, Sam, you totally saved my ass, and that performance you gave that cop? That was--”
That was it.
“Tell me about your made up wife, Sammy,” Dean said, his heart pounding with hope. “Tell me about your cheating, made up wife.”
He thought maybe he saw Sam smile. “She cheated on me.”
“What else? Come on, Sam. What else?”
“She has a blond perm. I hate it. I think she did it for her boyfriend.”
“Who’s her boyfriend?”
This time Sam definitely smiled. “My brother. My no good brother.”
“Really? Come on, man--”
“--not you. You’re my good brother. His name is Dave. He’s a total dick.”
“Tell me more about Dave.”
And on and on they went. Sam met his wife at a farmer’s market one fateful spring afternoon. There was a cloud burst and she offered to share her umbrella. It was love at first sight. She adored football and he was a fanatic. They dressed like Lois and Clark for Halloween.
But everything changed when the twins were born. She didn’t want to believe they had a condition. She didn’t want to believe they were anything less than perfect.
“I told her,” Sam said sleepily, his forehead still pressed against Dean’s neck, “I told her ‘they are perfect.’ But they also need help.’”
It destroyed their marriage. She slept with his brother. He slept with a woman he met in a support group.
By the time the jail cell gate clattered open, Sam was closing down his car lot and declaring bankruptcy. Dean looked at the hanging clock. They had made it. He couldn’t fucking believe they made it.
He helped Sam stand. He was white like death and his knees were shaking. He regarded the bars of the cell like they might eat him alive. Dean kept an arm around his back.
“You did awesome,” he told Sam. “I don’t know where you come up with this shit.”
Sam looked very, very tired. But he smiled. “Embarrassing, what you daydream about in hell. The more mundane, the more cliche, the better.”
Dean nodded. “Dude. You don’t even want to know what I daydreamed about in hell.”
They stepped out into the sun. Sam sighed with vast relief, and Dean sighed, too. They just stood. Dean had a million things he wanted to say, didn’t want to say, didn’t want to think about.
“Maybe we’ll stay outta jail for a while, huh?” he said to Sam.
Sam laughed, or maybe burst into tears, Dean couldn’t tell which.
Re: FILLED: DAYDREAMS YOU HAVE IN HELL 5/54thejourneyApril 30 2011, 00:22:33 UTC
I loved this! Even though you almost broue my heart! T_T Especially with the second to last line.
I loved this line: "I told her they are perfect. But they also need help." I don't know if you meant it that way, but it almost feels like it has a double meaning to it, like Sam's relating to them or something. IDK, it just crossed my mind.
Sam took a rattling breath. He was trying hard to hold on. “Don’t let me pass out, Dean. I’ll go there.”
“I’m not gonna let you pass out.”
“How much longer?”
“Just a little while. It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re with me, Sammy. Not him. Not him. You’re with me. We just got in a bar fight, and you were awesome, Sam, you totally saved my ass, and that performance you gave that cop? That was--”
That was it.
“Tell me about your made up wife, Sammy,” Dean said, his heart pounding with hope. “Tell me about your cheating, made up wife.”
He thought maybe he saw Sam smile. “She cheated on me.”
“What else? Come on, Sam. What else?”
“She has a blond perm. I hate it. I think she did it for her boyfriend.”
“Who’s her boyfriend?”
This time Sam definitely smiled. “My brother. My no good brother.”
“Really? Come on, man--”
“--not you. You’re my good brother. His name is Dave. He’s a total dick.”
“Tell me more about Dave.”
And on and on they went. Sam met his wife at a farmer’s market one fateful spring afternoon. There was a cloud burst and she offered to share her umbrella. It was love at first sight. She adored football and he was a fanatic. They dressed like Lois and Clark for Halloween.
But everything changed when the twins were born. She didn’t want to believe they had a condition. She didn’t want to believe they were anything less than perfect.
“I told her,” Sam said sleepily, his forehead still pressed against Dean’s neck, “I told her ‘they are perfect.’ But they also need help.’”
It destroyed their marriage. She slept with his brother. He slept with a woman he met in a support group.
By the time the jail cell gate clattered open, Sam was closing down his car lot and declaring bankruptcy. Dean looked at the hanging clock. They had made it. He couldn’t fucking believe they made it.
He helped Sam stand. He was white like death and his knees were shaking. He regarded the bars of the cell like they might eat him alive. Dean kept an arm around his back.
“You did awesome,” he told Sam. “I don’t know where you come up with this shit.”
Sam looked very, very tired. But he smiled. “Embarrassing, what you daydream about in hell. The more mundane, the more cliche, the better.”
Dean nodded. “Dude. You don’t even want to know what I daydreamed about in hell.”
They stepped out into the sun. Sam sighed with vast relief, and Dean sighed, too. They just stood. Dean had a million things he wanted to say, didn’t want to say, didn’t want to think about.
“Maybe we’ll stay outta jail for a while, huh?” he said to Sam.
Sam laughed, or maybe burst into tears, Dean couldn’t tell which.
“Yeah, maybe so.”
:::
The end.
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I loved this line: "I told her they are perfect. But they also need help." I don't know if you meant it that way, but it almost feels like it has a double meaning to it, like Sam's relating to them or something. IDK, it just crossed my mind.
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Thank you so much for reading and for the lovely comment :)
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