Title: Melt My Sam to Stone
Summary: There's a barely-out-of-Hell Sam. There's a routine that needs to be followed. There's a bad day of breathing. And then there's a fucking car alarm. Another prompt from
familybiznessbecause even when we don't co-write she is aaaaall over this verse.
Warnings/Spoilers: Post-Hell, mentions of rape, self-injury.
Wordcount: 4,652
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I loved the small moments of humor, the moments where Dean's experiences made any connection at all with Sam's, and especially this:
He helps Sam into sweats and pulls him onto the bed. It's a lot, and Sam whispers about the clothes biting his skin and tucks himself under Dean's arm like he used to when he was little (same fucking body--this is Dean's kid that got tortured, okay? Do you get how fucked up that is? Do you understand that Dean changed his diapers and kissed his scrapes and tugged a bullet out of his shoulder? This is the part where he'd usually say something like "to put it plainly, mine" except let's put it even more the fuck plainly and say that Sam was raped twenty zillion times and Dean's read the websites maybe just as many and he knows damn well that Sam's body is Sam's but no, it doesn't stop him from wanting to gather the kid up in his arms and fucking rubber stamp him with Dean's name like he's a fucking library book--except no, because he isn't fucking going anywhere, no one is checking out Sam--with DEAN DEAN DEAN DEAN DEAN because...because mine, okay? Because fucking mine.)
(Because a few nights this week Sam has only slept after Dean's whispered "my Sam my Sam my Sam" into his hair for an hour and a half.)
(Because Sam never made any fucking sense before, so why the fuck would he now?)
(Because crazy Sam is a goddamn sweetheart. And Dean can't hunt that.)
Love love love forever and ever. Broken!Sammy is the sweetest, saddest, most beautiful thing ever.
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