spn_30snapshots prompt: 08. taste
This drabble was written for spn_30snapshots.
OMGWTF: Sam-POV; gen; general spoilers for season 4 (just to be safe); 7-8 on TEH ANGST-O-METER [yay angst!].
08. Taste: Better Than You Ever Felt It
Ruby asks him, once, if it has a taste. Her blood. He doesn’t answer, just stares at her dark hair, limp and straight where it lays across the flat pillow; registers the expanse of pale, bare skin she puts on display. Watches her veins, blue and purple and green tracing under her flesh, close and pounding and urgent. Doesn’t answer, because it’s just her way of nailing the lid shut, of saying there’s no going back. Voice and eyes and wide smirking lips that bleed with her victory.
When Dean asks, he doesn’t want to answer. Doesn’t want his voice whispering smoke and honey; doesn’t think it could actually drive the wedge between them any wider, but doesn’t want to find out if he’s wrong, either. But there’s so much, and he doesn’t know if he has the right to refuse, so he says it. Tells Dean everything he can remember (and it’s so clear and perfect and needed), and isn’t surprised when his brother turns away, back a stiff line that Sam could break himself against. He can’t read anything but disgust and anger in his voice when he says, that’s great, man, Fuckin’ great.
The rest of the table is here
OMGWTF: Sam-POV; gen; general spoilers for season 4 (just to be safe); 7-8 on TEH ANGST-O-METER [yay angst!].
08. Taste: Better Than You Ever Felt It
Ruby asks him, once, if it has a taste. Her blood. He doesn’t answer, just stares at her dark hair, limp and straight where it lays across the flat pillow; registers the expanse of pale, bare skin she puts on display. Watches her veins, blue and purple and green tracing under her flesh, close and pounding and urgent. Doesn’t answer, because it’s just her way of nailing the lid shut, of saying there’s no going back. Voice and eyes and wide smirking lips that bleed with her victory.
When Dean asks, he doesn’t want to answer. Doesn’t want his voice whispering smoke and honey; doesn’t think it could actually drive the wedge between them any wider, but doesn’t want to find out if he’s wrong, either. But there’s so much, and he doesn’t know if he has the right to refuse, so he says it. Tells Dean everything he can remember (and it’s so clear and perfect and needed), and isn’t surprised when his brother turns away, back a stiff line that Sam could break himself against. He can’t read anything but disgust and anger in his voice when he says, that’s great, man, Fuckin’ great.
The rest of the table is here