FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDauthoressnebulaMay 4 2011, 02:43:36 UTC
When Sam could sense things again, the feelings of wrong and cold weren't as strong anymore. There was light, way more light, and something burning through his nostrils. He focused on his muscles and slowly lifted his eyelids.
The room was a light blue, paint that had seen better days. There was a curtain that hung around one corner of his bed, and a door to his right stood closed. The entire room smelled like cleaning supplies, the strong ones. Hospital.
Dean.
Something caught his hand before he was even able to try sitting up, making him shift his focus to the left. Dean was right there, alive and looking a little worse for the wear, but alive. Sam could handle the worse for wear and the multiple day shadows under his eyes and on his jaw. When was the last time Dean had seen a razor? Or a bed?
"Hey, sleeping beauty," Dean said, voice filled with relief. "About time you decided to wake up. Had the doctors worried for awhile." Translation: You had me worried for too long. "How are you feeling?"
Everything slowly came back. The canula looped around his ears and currently feeding cool oxygen through his nose, the IV taped to the back of his hand. The soreness radiating from his chest.
Cal. The gun. Saving Dean.
"Doc says if that guy had shot any higher, it would've hit you in the heart," Dean said, swallowing hard. "Definitely would've hit me in my heart. But it didn't, because you were there. You knew."
He'd known. Known for months. Replayed the scene a million and one times in his head. But in the moment when it had counted, Sam had pulled through.
"You're telling me how you knew later," Dean said, pulling Sam's focus back to the present. Dean leaned in closer, and up close, he looked even worse than he had before. His face was pale, and he looked exhausted. The lines in his forehead spoke of stress and worry from the past who knew how many days. "But I want you to promise me, right here, right now, that you won't do this again, Sam. That you won't try and save me like this."
For the second time, Sam felt something slam into his chest. This time, it wasn't a bullet. "Wha-?" His voice, hoarse from disuse, was barely able to make a sound before Dean was continuing.
"I'm done in a few months, Sam. But you? You can keep going. I want you to keep going. Not...not this."
No. No no no no no. "Dean, no," Sam struggled to choke out. "Can't...can't do this without you."
"Yes you can-"
"No."
Dean stopped and stared at him. Sam swallowed hard, tears burning in his eyes. "No," he repeated, his throat sore with each pass of air over the abused flesh. But damn if he wasn't saying this now. "That's...I lost you. Months, Dean. I can't...I'm saving you. I have to."
They would both be saved, or they would both go down. It wasn't happening any other way. It couldn't.
Dean tightened his grip around Sam's hand. "Fine," he said at last. "But...but not like this. God, Sammy, please."
Sam said nothing, but he finally gave a small nod. He'd keep himself alive, too. For the both of them.
Re: FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDphreakycatMay 4 2011, 03:39:14 UTC
Perfect! What a fitting and awesome fill for my vague prompt! For some reason I didn't even think of the whole Mystery Spot/Deal thing, but now that I've read this it seems perfect and obvious. LOL This was AWESOME! Thank you so much for sacrificing your productivity for my humble prompts. ;)
Re: FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDcarocaliMay 11 2011, 04:47:23 UTC
Mystery Spot! I LOVE that you did this! That shot in the parking lot on Wednesday was worse than everything. And Sam's face! How wonderful that you gave Sam the chance to save Dean.
Re: FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDcrazybeagleMay 13 2011, 06:32:32 UTC
Oh oh oh... Heartbreaking and gorgeous in so many ways. (It's 2:30 AM, I can't give you anything more substantial than that.) It just killed me that the first thing that naturally occurred to Sam to do was the hardest thing for Dean to witness and the one that seemed most pointless in light of the deal. Beautifully done. And the last line.... >sob< BUT HE DIDN'T. OH SAMMY.
The room was a light blue, paint that had seen better days. There was a curtain that hung around one corner of his bed, and a door to his right stood closed. The entire room smelled like cleaning supplies, the strong ones. Hospital.
Dean.
Something caught his hand before he was even able to try sitting up, making him shift his focus to the left. Dean was right there, alive and looking a little worse for the wear, but alive. Sam could handle the worse for wear and the multiple day shadows under his eyes and on his jaw. When was the last time Dean had seen a razor? Or a bed?
"Hey, sleeping beauty," Dean said, voice filled with relief. "About time you decided to wake up. Had the doctors worried for awhile." Translation: You had me worried for too long. "How are you feeling?"
Everything slowly came back. The canula looped around his ears and currently feeding cool oxygen through his nose, the IV taped to the back of his hand. The soreness radiating from his chest.
Cal. The gun. Saving Dean.
"Doc says if that guy had shot any higher, it would've hit you in the heart," Dean said, swallowing hard. "Definitely would've hit me in my heart. But it didn't, because you were there. You knew."
He'd known. Known for months. Replayed the scene a million and one times in his head. But in the moment when it had counted, Sam had pulled through.
"You're telling me how you knew later," Dean said, pulling Sam's focus back to the present. Dean leaned in closer, and up close, he looked even worse than he had before. His face was pale, and he looked exhausted. The lines in his forehead spoke of stress and worry from the past who knew how many days. "But I want you to promise me, right here, right now, that you won't do this again, Sam. That you won't try and save me like this."
For the second time, Sam felt something slam into his chest. This time, it wasn't a bullet. "Wha-?" His voice, hoarse from disuse, was barely able to make a sound before Dean was continuing.
"I'm done in a few months, Sam. But you? You can keep going. I want you to keep going. Not...not this."
No. No no no no no. "Dean, no," Sam struggled to choke out. "Can't...can't do this without you."
"Yes you can-"
"No."
Dean stopped and stared at him. Sam swallowed hard, tears burning in his eyes. "No," he repeated, his throat sore with each pass of air over the abused flesh. But damn if he wasn't saying this now. "That's...I lost you. Months, Dean. I can't...I'm saving you. I have to."
They would both be saved, or they would both go down. It wasn't happening any other way. It couldn't.
Dean tightened his grip around Sam's hand. "Fine," he said at last. "But...but not like this. God, Sammy, please."
Sam said nothing, but he finally gave a small nod. He'd keep himself alive, too. For the both of them.
And he'd save Dean or die trying.
~Nebula
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Heartbreaking and gorgeous in so many ways.
(It's 2:30 AM, I can't give you anything more substantial than that.)
It just killed me that the first thing that naturally occurred to Sam to do was the hardest thing for Dean to witness and the one that seemed most pointless in light of the deal. Beautifully done.
And the last line....
>sob<
BUT HE DIDN'T.
OH SAMMY.
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