When It's All Said and Done ; ficlet
Title : When It's All Said and Done
Rating : PG
Pairing : Gen
Characters : Dean and Sam.
Summary : It's all said and done but the battle didn't come without it's wounds.
Warning : Hurt!Dean. Very slight gore.
Note : I'd like to once again thank the wonderful someonescomet for beta'ing this. :)
Their time had ended and they'd saved the world from what hell had nearly unleashed. There was blood and bruises and ungodly cuts across flesh. Dean wasn't sure if he was walking straight or backwards and his heart was pounding so tightly in his chest he felt it may break through his rib cage. He could feel the vivid red that painted his face, dripping from his head and nose. He looked around but all he could see was black. All he could taste was blood and dirt and he felt vomit come up his throat. He was too tired and there was too much pain and he didn't even try to hold down the small amount of fluid as he coughed and gagged and suddenly started to dry heave.
He wanted to call and scream, beg for help but his lips couldn't form words and he felt like an iron rod had been shoved down the expanse of his throat. Hell had ripped him apart but this pain was so different, so unnreal. All he could remember was the four or five demons that had all approached him at once and beaten him and nearly killed him but he'd been lucky, he was always lucky.
"Dean!" He knew that voice and the panic that came with the scream. He felt arms surround his sore body, hold him so tight he wanted to say no, to stop, but he couldn't. The sting in his muscles with that embrace was oddly comforting, a feeling of being home.
The next thing he could feel was the tears rolling down his face but they weren't his own. All Dean wanted to do was to comfort Sam, tell him it would be okay. He was strong, Sam knew that. "Dean, please. Don't leave me." The voice ached and broke, struggling to hold onto a sense of control.
Dean tried again to speak and his throat burned in protest. "Never," was all he could get out.
Rating : PG
Pairing : Gen
Characters : Dean and Sam.
Summary : It's all said and done but the battle didn't come without it's wounds.
Warning : Hurt!Dean. Very slight gore.
Note : I'd like to once again thank the wonderful someonescomet for beta'ing this. :)
Their time had ended and they'd saved the world from what hell had nearly unleashed. There was blood and bruises and ungodly cuts across flesh. Dean wasn't sure if he was walking straight or backwards and his heart was pounding so tightly in his chest he felt it may break through his rib cage. He could feel the vivid red that painted his face, dripping from his head and nose. He looked around but all he could see was black. All he could taste was blood and dirt and he felt vomit come up his throat. He was too tired and there was too much pain and he didn't even try to hold down the small amount of fluid as he coughed and gagged and suddenly started to dry heave.
He wanted to call and scream, beg for help but his lips couldn't form words and he felt like an iron rod had been shoved down the expanse of his throat. Hell had ripped him apart but this pain was so different, so unnreal. All he could remember was the four or five demons that had all approached him at once and beaten him and nearly killed him but he'd been lucky, he was always lucky.
"Dean!" He knew that voice and the panic that came with the scream. He felt arms surround his sore body, hold him so tight he wanted to say no, to stop, but he couldn't. The sting in his muscles with that embrace was oddly comforting, a feeling of being home.
The next thing he could feel was the tears rolling down his face but they weren't his own. All Dean wanted to do was to comfort Sam, tell him it would be okay. He was strong, Sam knew that. "Dean, please. Don't leave me." The voice ached and broke, struggling to hold onto a sense of control.
Dean tried again to speak and his throat burned in protest. "Never," was all he could get out.