sijay
in
spn_teamfic
BANDAGES (TEAM HUNTERS)
Title: Bandages
Author:Sijay
Characters/Pairing(s): Sam/Dean, Castiel, Jo, Bobby, Chuck, angels, OMC
Rating: G
Warnings: hurt/comfort, mild wincest (if you squint), character death (not our boys), blood, mentions of violence (nothing graphic), post!apocalypse, spoilery for season 4
Summary: It's the final battle and not everyone comes out alive. There are wounds to be taken care of and friends to be buried. There is blood everywhere. And it's really not the time to be honest with your brother.
Word Count: 1748
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, playing in Kripke's sandbox.
A/N: Written for the first round of spn_teamfic, prompt "blood". This started out as something else entirely and then just wrote itself, I was merely watching. Sam's POV. Unbetaed and I am not a native English speaker.
Aside from the almost destruction of the world and everything living in it, there were still more problems to solve after caging Lucifer in hell again and using more secure locks this time.
First there were the bodies. Scattered all across the land, some destroyed, some almost intact enough that you could think they were just sleeping for a while. For days there were nothing but improvised funerals; the churches that weren't destroyed were filled to the ceiling with people praying and lighting candles for their lost ones. The bodies that no one recognized - which was most of them - were salted and burned. No need to risk an army of angry spirits rising.
Nature had been destroyed to a high degree. Dead and fallen trees, animal cadavers everywhere, rivers rising to floods, fires that couldn't be extinguished, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions leaving the earth burnt and torn apart.
Entire cities had been wiped out in the blink of an eye. Ruines of stone and metal remained where scyscrapers and streets had been, some places were still burning and falling down. There was no say how many people were buried underneath, but they didn't have the power and machines to dig them out.
Sam was one of the very few people who could see them but there were feathers everywhere. Big, broken and blood-red where they used to be white and glittering in the sun, they could be seen peaking out from under stone, wood and bodies. It turned out that an angel's wings burned the ground under them black if an angel died, but the feathers remained if you ripped them out. And a lot of feathers - too many if you asked Sam - had been ripped out by angry demons in this war who used them as the only weak spot they could find on every angel.
Anna had died. He didn't see it, but Castiel told him that she died before Lucifer even appeared. Apparently the other angels had found her in the end. Sam couldn't put his finger on it, but something had seemed off about the way Castiel had said it. Like he felt really sad about it, even though he and Anna hadn't exactly been friends.
Ellen had died. She didn't even join the fight, but the building where she had tended to the wounded hunters had been destroyed just before the last battle. She never made it out and they had found her almost unharmed body when Dean dug her out with his bare hands, not letting anyone but Sam help him although the angels could have retrieved her in the blink of an eye.
Ruby was dead. He had gripped her shoulders hard while Dean had stabbed her. Sam's stomach still churned when he thought about how much he had trusted her, only to get his ass kicked in the end. He should have trusted Dean. He should have believed his brother.
The number of fallen hunters were high. Sam hadn't known them all, barely knew half of their names but they had fought a great battle. They were honoured in one big cremation as soon as they had foung everyone. Burning together as they had fought together.
The blood of the wounded and dead coated the earth in a thick layer. To Sam it seemed like everything was just black and dark grey; smoke, ash and filth, except for the almost bright red spots of blood and gore that seemed to stand out, loud and almost blinding.
It was on him, too. Sam's hands were crusted with it, the blood already dry and sticky. He couldn't see it, but he knew his face had to look the same because of the deep gash on his temple that definitely needed stitching - if they could find anything to stitch it up with - and his hair was all gooey, too. A shower sounded like heaven right about now but there were things that had to be done first. And there wasn't any running water available anyway.
„Sam?“
Castiel's quiet voice made him turn away from the broken window and the scene of destruction and mayhem in front of him to look at the angel. Though he didn't look like the angel he had known anymore. His coat was gone, as was his suitjacket and tie, leaving him in only a filthy and torn shirt and his almost intact trousers. Sam knew without seeing it again, that the back of the white shirt was a dark red now. The two wounds where his wings had been torn off had been bandaged, but the stains remained. Castiel had said that his wings would grow back with time but Sam would need to see it to believe it.
„Dean is awake now.“, Cas continued softly. „Visit him before he starts tearing the place apart. He doesn't believe us if we tell him that you are unharmed, he needs to see it for himself.“
See it for himself. Except, he won't.
Sam slightly nodded, couldn't even clothe his face in smiles, following the angel deeper into the building, to the large room that had once been a dining hall and was now an improvised infirmary. About 20 people were resting on dirty blankets on the ground, bandaged with pieces of almost clean fabric or being tended to right now. Hunters, civilians and an angel. Of course they weren't the only people left in the world, but these were the ones surviving the final and worst battle.
Bobby was one of them, sleeping on a pile of clothes near the window to the right. They weren't sure if he would survive the night, with or without angelic help. Chuck was currently cleaning up his face with a wet piece of his own shirt, wiping away the blood and dirt.
The worst wounds had been healed by the very few angels that were not dead or dying - namely, Castiel, Raphael and Gabriel. They had barely enough power left to do it. You could see the exhaustion in their beautiful faces. With God having left the building a long time ago, their strength wasn't unlimited and the demons had greatly outnumbered them.
Jo, who had miraculously survived unharmed - propably because she had hidden somewhere underground protecting a few women and children - was trying help Jophiel by picking the broken feathers out of his wings. Jophiel, in the body of a beautiful 15-year-old boy who had been in a coma for years, had his arms wrapped around his naked torso. Sam could see his jaw tensing up; he was gritting his teeth to remain from screaming in pain.
„Where the hell is Sam?-- Sam! Sammy!!“ he heard Dean yelling from the adjoining room. Sam quickly crossed the room to enter the next, seeing Dean struggling against Gabriel who held him down firmly - „Stop it, you'll hurt yourself!“- and of course Dean was no match for him.
„Is he here somewhere? I swear to god, if he-“
„Dean.“ Sam interrupted and quickly approached. Dean's head whipped around to stare at him with blind, bloodshot eyes. Gabriel let go of his shoulders as Dean immediately stopped struggling.
„Sammy? Is that you? I- I can't see you, please, god-“, Dean mumbled hoarsely and reached out to touch him, to feel for himself if it was really his baby brother or if his mind was playing tricks on him.
„Yeah, it's me.“ Sam quickly took Dean's hand in his and squeezed it tightly. „I'm okay, don't worry. Just a few scratches, nothing bad.“
Dean visibly calmed and fell back onto his blanket, exhausted and relieved. „What about the others? Bobby? Is he okay?“
Sam bit his bottom lip then nodded, before he remembered that Dean couldn't see the movement. „He will be.“, he said quietly, desperately needing to believe that himself.
„Cas, too? I thought I heard his voice earlier, but I'm not sure, I dreamed all this crazy stuff while I was out-“
„He's fine, a few injuries but nothing he can't handle.“
„I told you that, too.“ mumbled Gabriel grumpily on Dean's other side, but was ignored.
„Good. That's-- that's good.“ Dean licked his dry, cracked lips and gratefully accepted the cup with cool water that Gabriel held to his lips; drinking a few sips. He needed a few moments to gather enough strength for the next question.
„Am..am I blind?“ he whispered hoarsely. „Tell me the truth, I- I can handle it.“
Sam sighed and stroked the back of Dean's hand with his thumb. „We... don't know.“ he answered quietly, close to tears. „You were standing right next to Cas when-“ - When his wings got torn off - „-and you looked directly into his grace, so... your eyes are... still there, but they are damaged pretty bad and... Raph said that he would need a lot more strength to restore them than he has right now, so we need to wait a little bit longer before we try it.“
„But he can do it? Heal me?“
'I don't know, propably not.' would have been the right answer, but Sam couldn't bring himself to say it. The hope in Dean's still green eyes made something in his chest contract painfully. Because how do you tell your big brother that his angelic friend had propably destroyed his eyesight forever when his wings got ripped out of his back? You just don't.
„Of course.“ Sam chuckled uneasily, his voice breaking just a little. „You know there's nothing that Raph can't do.“
Dean nodded, having heard exactly what he needed to hear. „Your hand is sticky. Is that blood? I think I can smell it...“
Sam smiled, wiping his cheek with his other hand, leaving pale pink stains where the blood mixed with his tears. „Yeah, but not mine. I didn't have time to clean up yet.“
„Whose is it?“
Bobby's. Castiel's.
„Just some demon's. You should sleep now, you look like shit.“
Dean grinned slightly and wiggled around until he was comfortable. „Thanks, bitch.“
„Jerk.“ Sam said softly and kissed his brother's bloody knuckles. He sat with him until Dean fell asleep, watching his chest fall and rise under already bloodstained bandages. His brother was alive and Sam had never been more grateful in his life.
---
to be continued? Don't know yet.
Author:Sijay
Characters/Pairing(s): Sam/Dean, Castiel, Jo, Bobby, Chuck, angels, OMC
Rating: G
Warnings: hurt/comfort, mild wincest (if you squint), character death (not our boys), blood, mentions of violence (nothing graphic), post!apocalypse, spoilery for season 4
Summary: It's the final battle and not everyone comes out alive. There are wounds to be taken care of and friends to be buried. There is blood everywhere. And it's really not the time to be honest with your brother.
Word Count: 1748
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, playing in Kripke's sandbox.
A/N: Written for the first round of spn_teamfic, prompt "blood". This started out as something else entirely and then just wrote itself, I was merely watching. Sam's POV. Unbetaed and I am not a native English speaker.
Aside from the almost destruction of the world and everything living in it, there were still more problems to solve after caging Lucifer in hell again and using more secure locks this time.
First there were the bodies. Scattered all across the land, some destroyed, some almost intact enough that you could think they were just sleeping for a while. For days there were nothing but improvised funerals; the churches that weren't destroyed were filled to the ceiling with people praying and lighting candles for their lost ones. The bodies that no one recognized - which was most of them - were salted and burned. No need to risk an army of angry spirits rising.
Nature had been destroyed to a high degree. Dead and fallen trees, animal cadavers everywhere, rivers rising to floods, fires that couldn't be extinguished, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions leaving the earth burnt and torn apart.
Entire cities had been wiped out in the blink of an eye. Ruines of stone and metal remained where scyscrapers and streets had been, some places were still burning and falling down. There was no say how many people were buried underneath, but they didn't have the power and machines to dig them out.
Sam was one of the very few people who could see them but there were feathers everywhere. Big, broken and blood-red where they used to be white and glittering in the sun, they could be seen peaking out from under stone, wood and bodies. It turned out that an angel's wings burned the ground under them black if an angel died, but the feathers remained if you ripped them out. And a lot of feathers - too many if you asked Sam - had been ripped out by angry demons in this war who used them as the only weak spot they could find on every angel.
Anna had died. He didn't see it, but Castiel told him that she died before Lucifer even appeared. Apparently the other angels had found her in the end. Sam couldn't put his finger on it, but something had seemed off about the way Castiel had said it. Like he felt really sad about it, even though he and Anna hadn't exactly been friends.
Ellen had died. She didn't even join the fight, but the building where she had tended to the wounded hunters had been destroyed just before the last battle. She never made it out and they had found her almost unharmed body when Dean dug her out with his bare hands, not letting anyone but Sam help him although the angels could have retrieved her in the blink of an eye.
Ruby was dead. He had gripped her shoulders hard while Dean had stabbed her. Sam's stomach still churned when he thought about how much he had trusted her, only to get his ass kicked in the end. He should have trusted Dean. He should have believed his brother.
The number of fallen hunters were high. Sam hadn't known them all, barely knew half of their names but they had fought a great battle. They were honoured in one big cremation as soon as they had foung everyone. Burning together as they had fought together.
The blood of the wounded and dead coated the earth in a thick layer. To Sam it seemed like everything was just black and dark grey; smoke, ash and filth, except for the almost bright red spots of blood and gore that seemed to stand out, loud and almost blinding.
It was on him, too. Sam's hands were crusted with it, the blood already dry and sticky. He couldn't see it, but he knew his face had to look the same because of the deep gash on his temple that definitely needed stitching - if they could find anything to stitch it up with - and his hair was all gooey, too. A shower sounded like heaven right about now but there were things that had to be done first. And there wasn't any running water available anyway.
„Sam?“
Castiel's quiet voice made him turn away from the broken window and the scene of destruction and mayhem in front of him to look at the angel. Though he didn't look like the angel he had known anymore. His coat was gone, as was his suitjacket and tie, leaving him in only a filthy and torn shirt and his almost intact trousers. Sam knew without seeing it again, that the back of the white shirt was a dark red now. The two wounds where his wings had been torn off had been bandaged, but the stains remained. Castiel had said that his wings would grow back with time but Sam would need to see it to believe it.
„Dean is awake now.“, Cas continued softly. „Visit him before he starts tearing the place apart. He doesn't believe us if we tell him that you are unharmed, he needs to see it for himself.“
See it for himself. Except, he won't.
Sam slightly nodded, couldn't even clothe his face in smiles, following the angel deeper into the building, to the large room that had once been a dining hall and was now an improvised infirmary. About 20 people were resting on dirty blankets on the ground, bandaged with pieces of almost clean fabric or being tended to right now. Hunters, civilians and an angel. Of course they weren't the only people left in the world, but these were the ones surviving the final and worst battle.
Bobby was one of them, sleeping on a pile of clothes near the window to the right. They weren't sure if he would survive the night, with or without angelic help. Chuck was currently cleaning up his face with a wet piece of his own shirt, wiping away the blood and dirt.
The worst wounds had been healed by the very few angels that were not dead or dying - namely, Castiel, Raphael and Gabriel. They had barely enough power left to do it. You could see the exhaustion in their beautiful faces. With God having left the building a long time ago, their strength wasn't unlimited and the demons had greatly outnumbered them.
Jo, who had miraculously survived unharmed - propably because she had hidden somewhere underground protecting a few women and children - was trying help Jophiel by picking the broken feathers out of his wings. Jophiel, in the body of a beautiful 15-year-old boy who had been in a coma for years, had his arms wrapped around his naked torso. Sam could see his jaw tensing up; he was gritting his teeth to remain from screaming in pain.
„Where the hell is Sam?-- Sam! Sammy!!“ he heard Dean yelling from the adjoining room. Sam quickly crossed the room to enter the next, seeing Dean struggling against Gabriel who held him down firmly - „Stop it, you'll hurt yourself!“- and of course Dean was no match for him.
„Is he here somewhere? I swear to god, if he-“
„Dean.“ Sam interrupted and quickly approached. Dean's head whipped around to stare at him with blind, bloodshot eyes. Gabriel let go of his shoulders as Dean immediately stopped struggling.
„Sammy? Is that you? I- I can't see you, please, god-“, Dean mumbled hoarsely and reached out to touch him, to feel for himself if it was really his baby brother or if his mind was playing tricks on him.
„Yeah, it's me.“ Sam quickly took Dean's hand in his and squeezed it tightly. „I'm okay, don't worry. Just a few scratches, nothing bad.“
Dean visibly calmed and fell back onto his blanket, exhausted and relieved. „What about the others? Bobby? Is he okay?“
Sam bit his bottom lip then nodded, before he remembered that Dean couldn't see the movement. „He will be.“, he said quietly, desperately needing to believe that himself.
„Cas, too? I thought I heard his voice earlier, but I'm not sure, I dreamed all this crazy stuff while I was out-“
„He's fine, a few injuries but nothing he can't handle.“
„I told you that, too.“ mumbled Gabriel grumpily on Dean's other side, but was ignored.
„Good. That's-- that's good.“ Dean licked his dry, cracked lips and gratefully accepted the cup with cool water that Gabriel held to his lips; drinking a few sips. He needed a few moments to gather enough strength for the next question.
„Am..am I blind?“ he whispered hoarsely. „Tell me the truth, I- I can handle it.“
Sam sighed and stroked the back of Dean's hand with his thumb. „We... don't know.“ he answered quietly, close to tears. „You were standing right next to Cas when-“ - When his wings got torn off - „-and you looked directly into his grace, so... your eyes are... still there, but they are damaged pretty bad and... Raph said that he would need a lot more strength to restore them than he has right now, so we need to wait a little bit longer before we try it.“
„But he can do it? Heal me?“
'I don't know, propably not.' would have been the right answer, but Sam couldn't bring himself to say it. The hope in Dean's still green eyes made something in his chest contract painfully. Because how do you tell your big brother that his angelic friend had propably destroyed his eyesight forever when his wings got ripped out of his back? You just don't.
„Of course.“ Sam chuckled uneasily, his voice breaking just a little. „You know there's nothing that Raph can't do.“
Dean nodded, having heard exactly what he needed to hear. „Your hand is sticky. Is that blood? I think I can smell it...“
Sam smiled, wiping his cheek with his other hand, leaving pale pink stains where the blood mixed with his tears. „Yeah, but not mine. I didn't have time to clean up yet.“
„Whose is it?“
Bobby's. Castiel's.
„Just some demon's. You should sleep now, you look like shit.“
Dean grinned slightly and wiggled around until he was comfortable. „Thanks, bitch.“
„Jerk.“ Sam said softly and kissed his brother's bloody knuckles. He sat with him until Dean fell asleep, watching his chest fall and rise under already bloodstained bandages. His brother was alive and Sam had never been more grateful in his life.
---
to be continued? Don't know yet.