(no subject)
Used to be, it was Sam who had the nightmares.
Dean remembered those months well, Sam waking them both up screaming, twisted in his sheets and calling for Jessica, until Sam finally just stopped sleeping at all. Those days had been trying, to say the very least, but they'd passed.
Then Sam began to have the nightmares while still awake, and Dean would pick him up, still twisted, still gasping from the floor, and they'd be off, flying down the road to prevent whatever horrors Sam had seen from coming to pass. If Dean drove fast enough, and fought hard enough, they'd put one more nightmare to rest, banishing it with gunfire and heat to somewhere dark and cold where it couldn't touch Sammy anymore. In those days, Dean thought he'd never been so tired or run down.
The last several months had taught him otherwise. A few weeks into his deal, and the nightmares began to visit Dean, too. Not true prophecy, but the fire that burned Dean at night was hot enough, and as inevitable as any of Sam's visions.
The length of time Dean dared to sleep shortened with every nightmare, and he wondered now if this was how it had been for Sammy, years ago, watching Jessica burn each time he closed his eyes. That was Sam's hell, and this was Dean's, waiting for time to run out and all of eternity to swallow him up and then down, down, down.
The new heat of the island had made him sluggish, seeping into his muscles until he was almost weak with it, but even exhausted Dean found he didn't want to sleep tonight. He went instead to the waterfall he'd visited with Angua. There was nothing of hell in its cool, dark waters, and even if he didn't get in, just lying on the rocks next to it made Dean feel better, if not relaxed enough for sleep.
Lying there, he let the roar of the water crashing down wash over him, each cool, misted breeze chasing away the memory of fire.
[eta: lololol, seven tags'll do me this close to bedtime, methinks ^^]
Dean remembered those months well, Sam waking them both up screaming, twisted in his sheets and calling for Jessica, until Sam finally just stopped sleeping at all. Those days had been trying, to say the very least, but they'd passed.
Then Sam began to have the nightmares while still awake, and Dean would pick him up, still twisted, still gasping from the floor, and they'd be off, flying down the road to prevent whatever horrors Sam had seen from coming to pass. If Dean drove fast enough, and fought hard enough, they'd put one more nightmare to rest, banishing it with gunfire and heat to somewhere dark and cold where it couldn't touch Sammy anymore. In those days, Dean thought he'd never been so tired or run down.
The last several months had taught him otherwise. A few weeks into his deal, and the nightmares began to visit Dean, too. Not true prophecy, but the fire that burned Dean at night was hot enough, and as inevitable as any of Sam's visions.
The length of time Dean dared to sleep shortened with every nightmare, and he wondered now if this was how it had been for Sammy, years ago, watching Jessica burn each time he closed his eyes. That was Sam's hell, and this was Dean's, waiting for time to run out and all of eternity to swallow him up and then down, down, down.
The new heat of the island had made him sluggish, seeping into his muscles until he was almost weak with it, but even exhausted Dean found he didn't want to sleep tonight. He went instead to the waterfall he'd visited with Angua. There was nothing of hell in its cool, dark waters, and even if he didn't get in, just lying on the rocks next to it made Dean feel better, if not relaxed enough for sleep.
Lying there, he let the roar of the water crashing down wash over him, each cool, misted breeze chasing away the memory of fire.
[eta: lololol, seven tags'll do me this close to bedtime, methinks ^^]