fic: all your lovers
Title: All Your Lovers
Characters: Sam,Dean, others
Genre: fever dream
Notes: caranfindel likes some Trials Sam, and esp. The Great Escapist! ( ; Happy birthday to you!
All the way back to the beginning you were burnt, that's what they all said, angel and demon and prophet and monster; your own.
.... toast? your brother says.
What?
You can hear Dean telling you to wake up, wake up, alarms banging in the brainpan; hell's bells.
It must be morning.
*
When you were only a kid, kissing your first girl, or your first Jess, hand curled crisp in yours like a fall leaf in a place there weren't any, not for now, just the gold and the green and the fog and the sea. Lecture: Native art. Dinner: you and your girl and California, and California’s always burning, or breaking; shaking herself loose from the earth, free at last.
That's you.
*
All your faults, your frailties.
Oh, you're shook, your first love and your last, a demon said once, in a girl's sweet body that crimped close, slipped down your hot throat, told you to swallow. But she meant your brother--first to fill you, eyes and hands and eyes; first to carry you, first to see you go up, and up.
*
Lucifer fries eggs in your kitchen, hooks an arm, asks if you slept well, baby, says it was always gonna end like this, us, domestic bliss with my best, well--you know you're never gonna do it, weak as you are, Sam, you gotta eat, spreadeagle (my favorite) between two cosmologies, what does it all mean, my burning boy; you want toast with that?
*
Your brother slaps you. You brother says it was almost the end, man, you almost, runs glaciers over your brain, your face; lovers and lovers and others, and just like that--
the fever breaks.
Characters: Sam,Dean, others
Genre: fever dream
Notes: caranfindel likes some Trials Sam, and esp. The Great Escapist! ( ; Happy birthday to you!
All the way back to the beginning you were burnt, that's what they all said, angel and demon and prophet and monster; your own.
.... toast? your brother says.
What?
You can hear Dean telling you to wake up, wake up, alarms banging in the brainpan; hell's bells.
It must be morning.
*
When you were only a kid, kissing your first girl, or your first Jess, hand curled crisp in yours like a fall leaf in a place there weren't any, not for now, just the gold and the green and the fog and the sea. Lecture: Native art. Dinner: you and your girl and California, and California’s always burning, or breaking; shaking herself loose from the earth, free at last.
That's you.
*
All your faults, your frailties.
Oh, you're shook, your first love and your last, a demon said once, in a girl's sweet body that crimped close, slipped down your hot throat, told you to swallow. But she meant your brother--first to fill you, eyes and hands and eyes; first to carry you, first to see you go up, and up.
*
Lucifer fries eggs in your kitchen, hooks an arm, asks if you slept well, baby, says it was always gonna end like this, us, domestic bliss with my best, well--you know you're never gonna do it, weak as you are, Sam, you gotta eat, spreadeagle (my favorite) between two cosmologies, what does it all mean, my burning boy; you want toast with that?
*
Your brother slaps you. You brother says it was almost the end, man, you almost, runs glaciers over your brain, your face; lovers and lovers and others, and just like that--
the fever breaks.