Final gift for aislinn_tredor!
Title: Hold Me Darling, Just A Little While
Author: redshoeson
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Summary: The battle isn't over until the Winchester brothers are reunited.
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 for same-sex kiss between brothers
Word Count: 1,074
Notes/Disclaimers: Written for spn_holidays 2007. aislinn_tredor wanted Apocalypse fic. It started out as that, but then the boys took over... Hope you enjoy! Title comes from the infamous song "Last Kiss," most recently covered by Pearl Jam. Disclaimer: I do not support incest or any other actions deemed illegal which may or may not be portrayed in this work of fiction. I trust that readers, like myself, recognize that this is indeed fiction and is neither a recollection of a real event nor an expression of a desire to participate in and/or view such an event. In short, this is fiction and should be perceived as such. Please do not read if hetcest is your squick.
The landscape is black with smoke, the ground littered with corpses, and Dean stands in the middle of it, so filthy he melts into what's left of the scenery. He looks ahead, back, right and left: nothing. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yells for Sam. The name echoes in the night, and though he sees a few familiar faces around him, he doesn't see the only one that matters.
He puts his hands on his knees and fuck if he doesn't feel every inch the warrior who stood against Satan and all the powers of Hell. Dean knows he should feel better, prouder; after all, they won - if you can call the stench and the filth a win - but he lost sight of Sam after the three-headed demon came at him with an axe. There's no sign of Sammy and Dean's starting to feel like he should have insisted they ignore this big damn war and just keep up with the small fries. But no, Sammy wouldn't have that. Not the great hero Sam Winchester, who has to save everyone and everything except, of course, himself.
Dean tastes copper and realizes his lip is bleeding into his open mouth. He swallows back the blood, ignoring the bile that rises inside him, and keeps looking out into the distance for Sam.
The battle isn't over until the Winchester brothers are reunited.
***
One day earlier
Dean goes from holding his coffee to slamming his coffee on the crappy motel table in less than a second. "You what?"
"You heard me." Shrugging, Sam looks away from him, and Dean knows then that Sam's freaked. He knows Sam better than Sam knows himself, and sometimes he hates that.
"Sam." Dean knows he should keep it together, but the magnitude of what Sam said is too much for calmness. "This is off the damn Richter, even for us."
Hands pressed to his knees, Sam stands and starts pacing, jittery as a kid on caffeine. "What am I supposed to do, Dean? Give them the finger and walk away?"
"Tell them to find somebody else. You've reached your saving humanity quota for eternity."
Sam laughs but the sound's too high, as though he's forcing the noise out of his throat. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the All Mighty gets to make that call."
"The All Mighty?" Dean can hear the indignation in his own voice and he hates himself for it, hates himself for not being able to accept any power besides the one they battle every damn day. There just isn't enough faith in him, he knows that, but right now he wants to smack Sammy for not seeing eye to eye with him on this. "Sam, you don't know this girl from Eve, and suddenly you've decided she's a god? What did I miss here?"
"I can't explain it, Dean. I just know it."
"I'm gonna need more explanation than that before I agree to go charging in there like a rock star on LSD."
"Dean, you don't have to. I'm just trying to be straight with you."
Dean shakes his head. There is too much going on here. He thought he'd be done with this once they got rid of the yellow-eyed demon, but here he is again, fighting with Sam over Sam's life. It doesn't make sense. Sometimes he wishes he could just slap Sam upside the head and be done with it.
When Dean looks up again, Sam is throwing things into a bag, shirts, shoes, the works. Dean looks up and for a moment he sees little Sam, picking up his first crossbow and aiming it, fully loaded, at Dad.
"Woah, there," says Dean, "where do you think you're going?"
"I told you already." Sam slips his arms into the straps of the bag and heads for the door. "I'll be back."
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"To talk to Her. Or Him. Or... Forget it, you know who I mean."
The door is closed before Dean manages his reply. He doesn't know what to do or who to turn to, but he knows he's going to have to do something, and soon, otherwise his baby brother will be shipping off - flying off? - to battle the demons of darkness alone: a single mortal among an army of immortals. The thought of this sends a shiver down Dean's spine, and he starts heading for the door.
***
So that's how he got here. Sam was visited by some girl claiming to be some deity - scratch that - the deity and he signed on. Heaven versus Hell. All in. No second chances.
Dean can see the angels for miles around, laughing, slapping each on the shoulder so as not to smack their wings. Fuck, he is still freaked out by the damn wings. Why couldn't that have been a myth?
It's a minute before he realizes that he hears something. Breathing. Not angel breathing, not demon breathing, but mortal breathing. Dean feels like a bloodhound following the sound, limping towards it. Maybe he's imagining it, maybe he's not, but it's the only clue he has to go on.
He follows it through the mounds of bodies, shoving carcasses aside, until he finds Sam, eyes half open, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Don't you go dying on me now, you bastard," says Dean, but there are hot tears in his eyes.
"Dean," says Sam, and then he breathes his last breath and Dean is holding a dead body and it's déjà vu all over again. This time, though, Dean doesn't freak. He's surrounded by angels and under the protection of the deity, he tells himself. Everything will be okay.
As the seconds pass, Dean starts to hear his own heart beating in his chest. He looks down at Sam.
"I did it once and I'd do it again," says Dean, and he kisses his brother full on the lips, ignoring the fucking implications and the damn taboo, pouring all he has into it.
Sam coughs and sputters back to life, and Dean pulls back so as not to catch the phlegm and blood Sam's coughing up.
"Dude," says Sam, and Dean says, "Yeah," and then it's all over. The war is ended, they're both still alive and Dean knows he saved his brother's life with a kiss.
Doesn't get much better than that.
END
Author: redshoeson
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean
Summary: The battle isn't over until the Winchester brothers are reunited.
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13 for same-sex kiss between brothers
Word Count: 1,074
Notes/Disclaimers: Written for spn_holidays 2007. aislinn_tredor wanted Apocalypse fic. It started out as that, but then the boys took over... Hope you enjoy! Title comes from the infamous song "Last Kiss," most recently covered by Pearl Jam. Disclaimer: I do not support incest or any other actions deemed illegal which may or may not be portrayed in this work of fiction. I trust that readers, like myself, recognize that this is indeed fiction and is neither a recollection of a real event nor an expression of a desire to participate in and/or view such an event. In short, this is fiction and should be perceived as such. Please do not read if hetcest is your squick.
The landscape is black with smoke, the ground littered with corpses, and Dean stands in the middle of it, so filthy he melts into what's left of the scenery. He looks ahead, back, right and left: nothing. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yells for Sam. The name echoes in the night, and though he sees a few familiar faces around him, he doesn't see the only one that matters.
He puts his hands on his knees and fuck if he doesn't feel every inch the warrior who stood against Satan and all the powers of Hell. Dean knows he should feel better, prouder; after all, they won - if you can call the stench and the filth a win - but he lost sight of Sam after the three-headed demon came at him with an axe. There's no sign of Sammy and Dean's starting to feel like he should have insisted they ignore this big damn war and just keep up with the small fries. But no, Sammy wouldn't have that. Not the great hero Sam Winchester, who has to save everyone and everything except, of course, himself.
Dean tastes copper and realizes his lip is bleeding into his open mouth. He swallows back the blood, ignoring the bile that rises inside him, and keeps looking out into the distance for Sam.
The battle isn't over until the Winchester brothers are reunited.
***
One day earlier
Dean goes from holding his coffee to slamming his coffee on the crappy motel table in less than a second. "You what?"
"You heard me." Shrugging, Sam looks away from him, and Dean knows then that Sam's freaked. He knows Sam better than Sam knows himself, and sometimes he hates that.
"Sam." Dean knows he should keep it together, but the magnitude of what Sam said is too much for calmness. "This is off the damn Richter, even for us."
Hands pressed to his knees, Sam stands and starts pacing, jittery as a kid on caffeine. "What am I supposed to do, Dean? Give them the finger and walk away?"
"Tell them to find somebody else. You've reached your saving humanity quota for eternity."
Sam laughs but the sound's too high, as though he's forcing the noise out of his throat. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think the All Mighty gets to make that call."
"The All Mighty?" Dean can hear the indignation in his own voice and he hates himself for it, hates himself for not being able to accept any power besides the one they battle every damn day. There just isn't enough faith in him, he knows that, but right now he wants to smack Sammy for not seeing eye to eye with him on this. "Sam, you don't know this girl from Eve, and suddenly you've decided she's a god? What did I miss here?"
"I can't explain it, Dean. I just know it."
"I'm gonna need more explanation than that before I agree to go charging in there like a rock star on LSD."
"Dean, you don't have to. I'm just trying to be straight with you."
Dean shakes his head. There is too much going on here. He thought he'd be done with this once they got rid of the yellow-eyed demon, but here he is again, fighting with Sam over Sam's life. It doesn't make sense. Sometimes he wishes he could just slap Sam upside the head and be done with it.
When Dean looks up again, Sam is throwing things into a bag, shirts, shoes, the works. Dean looks up and for a moment he sees little Sam, picking up his first crossbow and aiming it, fully loaded, at Dad.
"Woah, there," says Dean, "where do you think you're going?"
"I told you already." Sam slips his arms into the straps of the bag and heads for the door. "I'll be back."
"Where the hell do you think you're going?"
"To talk to Her. Or Him. Or... Forget it, you know who I mean."
The door is closed before Dean manages his reply. He doesn't know what to do or who to turn to, but he knows he's going to have to do something, and soon, otherwise his baby brother will be shipping off - flying off? - to battle the demons of darkness alone: a single mortal among an army of immortals. The thought of this sends a shiver down Dean's spine, and he starts heading for the door.
***
So that's how he got here. Sam was visited by some girl claiming to be some deity - scratch that - the deity and he signed on. Heaven versus Hell. All in. No second chances.
Dean can see the angels for miles around, laughing, slapping each on the shoulder so as not to smack their wings. Fuck, he is still freaked out by the damn wings. Why couldn't that have been a myth?
It's a minute before he realizes that he hears something. Breathing. Not angel breathing, not demon breathing, but mortal breathing. Dean feels like a bloodhound following the sound, limping towards it. Maybe he's imagining it, maybe he's not, but it's the only clue he has to go on.
He follows it through the mounds of bodies, shoving carcasses aside, until he finds Sam, eyes half open, blood trickling from his mouth.
"Don't you go dying on me now, you bastard," says Dean, but there are hot tears in his eyes.
"Dean," says Sam, and then he breathes his last breath and Dean is holding a dead body and it's déjà vu all over again. This time, though, Dean doesn't freak. He's surrounded by angels and under the protection of the deity, he tells himself. Everything will be okay.
As the seconds pass, Dean starts to hear his own heart beating in his chest. He looks down at Sam.
"I did it once and I'd do it again," says Dean, and he kisses his brother full on the lips, ignoring the fucking implications and the damn taboo, pouring all he has into it.
Sam coughs and sputters back to life, and Dean pulls back so as not to catch the phlegm and blood Sam's coughing up.
"Dude," says Sam, and Dean says, "Yeah," and then it's all over. The war is ended, they're both still alive and Dean knows he saved his brother's life with a kiss.
Doesn't get much better than that.
END