Fic: Stay With Me... Let's Just Breathe
Title: Stay With Me... Let's Just Breathe
Author: silverraven
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam & Dean gen
Wordcount: 600
Warning(s): Spoilers for the end of Season 7
Summary: Dean wakes from a nightmare
Notes: Title taken from Pearl Jam's 'Just Breathe'
Dean wakes with a silent scream, shooting straight up in bed.
His heart is thundering, pulse pounding in his ears and when he shuts his eyes all he sees are red eyes.
It takes him a few seconds to remember that he’s not in Purgatory anymore, that he’s in a rundown motel room with scratchy sheets and tacky orange and green striped wallpaper.
He’s been back a week, only six days since Sam somehow opened a doorway into Purgatory and got him out. And maybe for once luck was on their side, because they got the portal closed before anything could follow.
Sam had told Dean he’d been away for two months, but it had felt more like two years. There was no rest there, no sleeping, no place to hide. Just constant running and fighting for his life, all kinds of monsters just waiting to strike. Glowing red eyes everywhere.
The second Sam had locked the motel room door after the rescue, Dean had collapsed on the nearest bed and slept for two days straight. Sleeping was easy then, his body so worn out that there wasn’t anything else for him to do.
That all changed a couple of nights ago. That’s when the nightmares had started. Well, more like they came back. He’s always had nightmares, vivid and terrifying ones since he was four. First it was fire, then monsters and demons and Hell and everything in-between. Dad dying, Sam dying, Bobby, Jo, Ellen… the list is endless.
A list of Dean’s failures.
He relives them every night.
Tonight, it’s hundreds of red eyes, everywhere, with sharp claws and huge teeth, tearing him in two over and over again because, like Hell, there is no death in Purgatory.
And there is no cure for the nightmares. Just drinking. Drinking until he can’t feel anymore, until his brain shuts-down enough so he can sleep in peace.
He reaches out for the bottle of whiskey on his nightstand when a hand grabs his wrist.
“Dean?” Sam softly asks and seriously, how is someone the size of a sasquatch able to move so quietly? Dean hadn’t even heard him get up from the other bed.
“Just need a drink, Sam, go back to bed.”
“It’s nearly five am, too early to start drinking don’t you think?”
“Fine, whatever,” he says and tugs his hand out of Sam’s grasp, turning to lie down so fast that he makes himself dizzy. The red digits of the alarm clock blur until they look like two glowing eyes and suddenly Dean can’t breathe, his whole chest is seizing up.
His hands tremble, his eyes start watering and he closes them tight. He tries to breathe but it’s like his lungs aren’t listening and don’t expand. Violent tremors rack through his body, sobs welling up in him, bursting to get out but Dean refuses to let them.
Distantly, he feels Sam move in behind him and shift Dean until he’s settled in the vee of Sam’s legs, Sam’s back against the headboard.
“Hey, it’s all right,” Sam says soothingly, arms like two steel beams around Dean, holding him secure. “Just breathe, Dean. It’s okay. You’re safe. I got you.”
Sam’s taking slow, deep breaths, his hands splayed across Dean’s chest, whispering soft and comforting into Dean’s ear. Nonsense words, an echo of what Dean used to say to him when they were kids and Sam had awoken from a nightmare.
He doesn’t stop until Dean’s breathing matches his, until Dean has stopped shaking and his heartbeat is normal again.
“Sleep,” Sam says.
And Dean does.
Author: silverraven
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam & Dean gen
Wordcount: 600
Warning(s): Spoilers for the end of Season 7
Summary: Dean wakes from a nightmare
Notes: Title taken from Pearl Jam's 'Just Breathe'
Dean wakes with a silent scream, shooting straight up in bed.
His heart is thundering, pulse pounding in his ears and when he shuts his eyes all he sees are red eyes.
It takes him a few seconds to remember that he’s not in Purgatory anymore, that he’s in a rundown motel room with scratchy sheets and tacky orange and green striped wallpaper.
He’s been back a week, only six days since Sam somehow opened a doorway into Purgatory and got him out. And maybe for once luck was on their side, because they got the portal closed before anything could follow.
Sam had told Dean he’d been away for two months, but it had felt more like two years. There was no rest there, no sleeping, no place to hide. Just constant running and fighting for his life, all kinds of monsters just waiting to strike. Glowing red eyes everywhere.
The second Sam had locked the motel room door after the rescue, Dean had collapsed on the nearest bed and slept for two days straight. Sleeping was easy then, his body so worn out that there wasn’t anything else for him to do.
That all changed a couple of nights ago. That’s when the nightmares had started. Well, more like they came back. He’s always had nightmares, vivid and terrifying ones since he was four. First it was fire, then monsters and demons and Hell and everything in-between. Dad dying, Sam dying, Bobby, Jo, Ellen… the list is endless.
A list of Dean’s failures.
He relives them every night.
Tonight, it’s hundreds of red eyes, everywhere, with sharp claws and huge teeth, tearing him in two over and over again because, like Hell, there is no death in Purgatory.
And there is no cure for the nightmares. Just drinking. Drinking until he can’t feel anymore, until his brain shuts-down enough so he can sleep in peace.
He reaches out for the bottle of whiskey on his nightstand when a hand grabs his wrist.
“Dean?” Sam softly asks and seriously, how is someone the size of a sasquatch able to move so quietly? Dean hadn’t even heard him get up from the other bed.
“Just need a drink, Sam, go back to bed.”
“It’s nearly five am, too early to start drinking don’t you think?”
“Fine, whatever,” he says and tugs his hand out of Sam’s grasp, turning to lie down so fast that he makes himself dizzy. The red digits of the alarm clock blur until they look like two glowing eyes and suddenly Dean can’t breathe, his whole chest is seizing up.
His hands tremble, his eyes start watering and he closes them tight. He tries to breathe but it’s like his lungs aren’t listening and don’t expand. Violent tremors rack through his body, sobs welling up in him, bursting to get out but Dean refuses to let them.
Distantly, he feels Sam move in behind him and shift Dean until he’s settled in the vee of Sam’s legs, Sam’s back against the headboard.
“Hey, it’s all right,” Sam says soothingly, arms like two steel beams around Dean, holding him secure. “Just breathe, Dean. It’s okay. You’re safe. I got you.”
Sam’s taking slow, deep breaths, his hands splayed across Dean’s chest, whispering soft and comforting into Dean’s ear. Nonsense words, an echo of what Dean used to say to him when they were kids and Sam had awoken from a nightmare.
He doesn’t stop until Dean’s breathing matches his, until Dean has stopped shaking and his heartbeat is normal again.
“Sleep,” Sam says.
And Dean does.