Guess what day it is? Comment-fic day!
Once again, it's everyone's favourite day in Supernatural: May 2nd! You know what that means, right? Time to hurt Sam! ;)
You know the drill, right? Allow me to post a refresher:
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You know the drill, right? Allow me to post a refresher:
( Read more... )
I feel like I should apologize for this being dark buuuuuut....it's hell and rape, y'know?
It’s not over it’s not over it’s not over
“It’s over,” Dean announces with something like relief as they cross the state line into South Dakota. He stomps on the gas like he owns the road and Sam thinks of Bobby and remembers Bobby is gone.
It’s not over because the hallucinations are gone and this should be a good thing, Cas threw himself on a fucking sword and Sam gets that, but it’s NOT OVER because every time he closes his eyes he can still hear that laugh.
He can still feel that intense, cold, private horror.
It’s not over.
**
Dean parks outside Bobby’s house and glances at his brother. “How does a nap sound?”
Sam, twisting his hands together over and over and staring out the window, doesn’t answer.
“You okay? Hey,” Dean frowns, lays a hand on Sam’s shoulder and he is so fucking tense. “You’re not still seeing him, are you?”
“No.” It’s not even a whisper. It’s barely a sound.
Dean digs his fingers into the muscles of his brother’s neck. They don’t give a fucking inch. “Talk to me, kid. Hey. What’s wrong?”
Sam glances up and down, opens and closes his mouth several times. Dean has literally never seen his brother at such a loss for words.
“What happened?”
Sam’s breath hitches once.
He throws the car door open and drops out into the dirt and heaves and shakes.
**
Dean’s arms are the entire world right now, but Sam’s body is sobbing so hard (he’s not doing this, okay, he’s not the one crying like this, it’s a fucking thing that’s happening against his will) that he feels himself slipping out of his brother’s grip. Gravity is tenuous and Sam is going to fucking float off this planet.
Dean tethers him with touches and soft words that don’t mean anything, “It’s all right, Sammy” (no it’s fucking not all right) and curls his fingers into Sam’s hair and breathes deep so Sam can match him, like he did when they were little and Sam was having tantrums and couldn’t calm his body down.
He gets it.
Calm your body down.
“Tell me what happened.”
It’s so gentle.
Sam doesn’t really know how to resist anymore.
**
He speaks frankly. He fucking says the fucking words.
The first time Sam says rape it does something visceral to Dean. The air all leaves his body in a rush and for just a moment he’s clinging to his brother like Sam’s a teddy bear, forgetting to comfort him, forgetting to make him feel safe, just clutching at him to keep the nightmare away.
He doesn’t create images. He doesn’t tell Dean how much how many how long how how how and Dean’s fucking grateful, because he’d listen to anything Sammy wanted to tell him right now but he does not want that picture, this hurts, this is too fucking much.
Instead, he describes feelings. Cold (he says ice and trembles in Dean’s arms), sickening, painful, horrifying, makeitstop.
Dean recovers himself enough to wrap his body around his giant fucking brother and wish Sam was still small enough to scoop into his chest and wrap his arms all the way around. He satisfies himself (such as it is) by kneeling behind his brother and holding his shoulders and crying so, so quietly into his hair.
Sam cries noisily, desperately, painfully, hands fisted around Dean’s wrists, just fucking hanging on.
**
He cries until he’s confused with exhaustion, and he’s not aware of the moment Dean gets him on his feet and starts to steer him inside, but he comes back to himself about halfway up the stairs to Bobby’s porch. “Dean?”
“’s okay.”
His brother manipulates him like a rag doll across the floor and onto the couch. Sam allows it. He doesn’t want to move think breathe anything. Just let Dean carry it for a while.
A quilt settles over him, and there’s Dean on the floor beside him, holding his hand, kissing his wrist, eyes red. “Sleep, Sam,” he says hoarsely. “Safe. Sleep.”
As his eyes slip closed he remembers that laugh, and he feels Dean start to shake.
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I've been wanting Sam and Dean to discuss what happened, and this fit the prompt! I loved this.
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...and he feels Dean start to shake.
These two sentences were my undoing *cries* Beautifully written, well done!!! Mt heart breaks for the both of them <3
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