The five times ...
... joans23 wrote drabbles and the one time she posted them.
Thank you again to storydivagirl for the WEEK OF DRABBLE-A-THONS, it was excellent fun!
Lost and Found, SPN Sam/Dean
He looks down with his right foot hovering in the air just above the first step, wanting to make sure he doesn’t fall face first into the bus. His vision is too blurry, so he just stays there like that, frozen in place. Then he feels a strong hand grip his shoulder and spin him around. A single tear spills over to roll down his cheek before that same hand reaches up to cup his cheek and wipe it away with a callused thumb. The kiss pressed against his lips is soft, barely there before it’s gone again.
“Goodbye, Sammy.”
Easy, SPN Dean/Sam
“Sam, I can’t.”
“You can.”
“It won’t fit.”
“It will.”
“It’ll hurt.”
“You afraid? The Dean Winchester is scared of a little bit of pain? Besides, it’ll feel good soon.”
“Says you. How would you know? You’re not the one who has to do this.”
“You’re just being a big baby.”
“A baby? A big baby, Sam? Have you seen the size of that thing?”
“It’s not that big.”
“Oh God, Sam.”
“Stop squirming. You’re making it worse.”
“How could this get any worse?”
“Now, just hold on … almost there.”
“Oh God, Sam.”
“See? As easy as pie.”
Make it all better, SPN Sam/Dean
Sam boils the water, holds the bowl so his father can dip the cotton wool in the steaming water. He’s stitching him up with coarse black thread, gently wrapping the hurts with bandages and band-aids. There’s nothing they can do about the bruises, stark blemishes against his too pale skin.
Sam slips out after he’s checked that Dean is breathing strong and steady and he’s tucked the blankets in tightly around him. He needs to get something he needs for when Dean wakes up.
He pays cash for the candy bars, smuggles out two bottles of beer under his shirt.
Mine, SPN Sam/Dean
“Tell me.”
Sam whispers into Dean’s ear as Dean tightens his fingers around Sam’s wrist.
Dean leans in and tries to capture Sam’s lips with his own. Sam bites down on Dean’s bottom lip instead, pulls it taut between his teeth.
“Tell me whose I am.”
Dean pulls Sam’s hand up towards his mouth and sucks two fingers into the wet heat. He twirls his tongue around the digits, tastes yellowed paper and ink and gun powder.
Sam steps back until he’s just out of Dean’s reach.
“Tell me.”
Dean grabs hold of Sam’s arms, draws him in close.
“Mine.”
Just wait, SPN Sam/Dean
Dean can’t take it anymore, watching his brother’s shoulders shake with quiet sobs.
Sam thinks Dean can’t see, the dark of night hiding his tears.
Suzie Peterson was all over Kevin fucking Walters at the party, her tongue so far down his throat he could have choked. Dean wouldn’t understand.
“She’s not worth it.”
Sam stiffens, swallows a sob and noisily drags a finger under his nose. So what if he’s crying, so what if Dean would never let it show if he’d been hurt?
“I loved her, Dean. She broke my heart.”
“Don’t worry, Sammy, you’ll find love again.”
Thank you again to storydivagirl for the WEEK OF DRABBLE-A-THONS, it was excellent fun!
Lost and Found, SPN Sam/Dean
He looks down with his right foot hovering in the air just above the first step, wanting to make sure he doesn’t fall face first into the bus. His vision is too blurry, so he just stays there like that, frozen in place. Then he feels a strong hand grip his shoulder and spin him around. A single tear spills over to roll down his cheek before that same hand reaches up to cup his cheek and wipe it away with a callused thumb. The kiss pressed against his lips is soft, barely there before it’s gone again.
“Goodbye, Sammy.”
Easy, SPN Dean/Sam
“Sam, I can’t.”
“You can.”
“It won’t fit.”
“It will.”
“It’ll hurt.”
“You afraid? The Dean Winchester is scared of a little bit of pain? Besides, it’ll feel good soon.”
“Says you. How would you know? You’re not the one who has to do this.”
“You’re just being a big baby.”
“A baby? A big baby, Sam? Have you seen the size of that thing?”
“It’s not that big.”
“Oh God, Sam.”
“Stop squirming. You’re making it worse.”
“How could this get any worse?”
“Now, just hold on … almost there.”
“Oh God, Sam.”
“See? As easy as pie.”
Make it all better, SPN Sam/Dean
Sam boils the water, holds the bowl so his father can dip the cotton wool in the steaming water. He’s stitching him up with coarse black thread, gently wrapping the hurts with bandages and band-aids. There’s nothing they can do about the bruises, stark blemishes against his too pale skin.
Sam slips out after he’s checked that Dean is breathing strong and steady and he’s tucked the blankets in tightly around him. He needs to get something he needs for when Dean wakes up.
He pays cash for the candy bars, smuggles out two bottles of beer under his shirt.
Mine, SPN Sam/Dean
“Tell me.”
Sam whispers into Dean’s ear as Dean tightens his fingers around Sam’s wrist.
Dean leans in and tries to capture Sam’s lips with his own. Sam bites down on Dean’s bottom lip instead, pulls it taut between his teeth.
“Tell me whose I am.”
Dean pulls Sam’s hand up towards his mouth and sucks two fingers into the wet heat. He twirls his tongue around the digits, tastes yellowed paper and ink and gun powder.
Sam steps back until he’s just out of Dean’s reach.
“Tell me.”
Dean grabs hold of Sam’s arms, draws him in close.
“Mine.”
Just wait, SPN Sam/Dean
Dean can’t take it anymore, watching his brother’s shoulders shake with quiet sobs.
Sam thinks Dean can’t see, the dark of night hiding his tears.
Suzie Peterson was all over Kevin fucking Walters at the party, her tongue so far down his throat he could have choked. Dean wouldn’t understand.
“She’s not worth it.”
Sam stiffens, swallows a sob and noisily drags a finger under his nose. So what if he’s crying, so what if Dean would never let it show if he’d been hurt?
“I loved her, Dean. She broke my heart.”
“Don’t worry, Sammy, you’ll find love again.”