Sam Introspective ficlet (SPN 7x10 SPOILERS)
Title: no escape from reality
Author:
turquoisetumult
Rating: PG-13 (with the F-bomb used once)
Disclaimer: The show or characters ain’t mine, ok?
Characters: Sam
Genre: angst
Word Count: 336
Warning: SPOILERS for 7x10
Summary: A reflective piece on Sam and that moment in the hospital. [A heavy sigh and then, suddenly, his eyes snap wide open. A seed was planted within his brain. A doubt. (A hope.) Is this real?]
&-&-&-&
Because it’s real, because it’s real, because it’s real, the words he told Dean echo in his head on a loop, each time harsher than the last, his brain trying to convince him of the truth when every other damn thing in his body wants to reject it with as much obstinacy and fervor as Dean was doing.
Sam lines up his hands and places them against his lips as he begins murmuring, muffled words against his ice cold palms: It’s real, it’s real, this is real, this is real, fuck, god dammit, why is this real?
A heavy sigh and then, suddenly, his eyes snap wide open. A seed was planted within his brain.
A doubt. (A hope.)
Is this real?
Who’s to say this isn’t Lucifer messing with him again? He’s been tricked before.
Now, more than ever, Sam wishes that he’s been duped.
Please, he thinks suddenly, a silent plea to no one in particular. Let this be hell. Let me be in hell.
Sam’ll deal with everything that the cage brought with it - the mind games, the hallucinations of his loved ones, even the smell of burnt flesh and the way he ground his teeth as Lucifer wriggled his finger inside of him to peel it off, blistered piece by blistered piece.
As long as Sam doesn’t have to deal with this - this abhorred hospital with a sterile odor (maintenance must do a piss-poor job of cleaning up because Sam can’t unsee the drops of Bobby’s blood on the floor) and the clamor of the dying (not Bobby, the other patients, he thinks, automatically).
So Sam takes a chance. He blinks and takes a deep breath before he rubs his thumb into his left palm, over and over again.
Beneath the layers of repaired skin, the twinge of his accident weeks ago is still there.
Sam exhales and closes his eyes, shielding the world from his unshed tears.
Plucked from the ground, the seed of doubt goes as quickly as it came.
&-&-&-&A/N: I was really heartbroken/inspired by this episode, so I whipped this piece up.
*** Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Author:
turquoisetumult
Rating: PG-13 (with the F-bomb used once)
Disclaimer: The show or characters ain’t mine, ok?
Characters: Sam
Genre: angst
Word Count: 336
Warning: SPOILERS for 7x10
Summary: A reflective piece on Sam and that moment in the hospital. [A heavy sigh and then, suddenly, his eyes snap wide open. A seed was planted within his brain. A doubt. (A hope.) Is this real?]
&-&-&-&
Because it’s real, because it’s real, because it’s real, the words he told Dean echo in his head on a loop, each time harsher than the last, his brain trying to convince him of the truth when every other damn thing in his body wants to reject it with as much obstinacy and fervor as Dean was doing.
Sam lines up his hands and places them against his lips as he begins murmuring, muffled words against his ice cold palms: It’s real, it’s real, this is real, this is real, fuck, god dammit, why is this real?
A heavy sigh and then, suddenly, his eyes snap wide open. A seed was planted within his brain.
A doubt. (A hope.)
Is this real?
Who’s to say this isn’t Lucifer messing with him again? He’s been tricked before.
Now, more than ever, Sam wishes that he’s been duped.
Please, he thinks suddenly, a silent plea to no one in particular. Let this be hell. Let me be in hell.
Sam’ll deal with everything that the cage brought with it - the mind games, the hallucinations of his loved ones, even the smell of burnt flesh and the way he ground his teeth as Lucifer wriggled his finger inside of him to peel it off, blistered piece by blistered piece.
As long as Sam doesn’t have to deal with this - this abhorred hospital with a sterile odor (maintenance must do a piss-poor job of cleaning up because Sam can’t unsee the drops of Bobby’s blood on the floor) and the clamor of the dying (not Bobby, the other patients, he thinks, automatically).
So Sam takes a chance. He blinks and takes a deep breath before he rubs his thumb into his left palm, over and over again.
Beneath the layers of repaired skin, the twinge of his accident weeks ago is still there.
Sam exhales and closes his eyes, shielding the world from his unshed tears.
Plucked from the ground, the seed of doubt goes as quickly as it came.
&-&-&-&A/N: I was really heartbroken/inspired by this episode, so I whipped this piece up.
*** Feedback is greatly appreciated!