Loss (Gen, R)
missing scene from 'Jump the Shark'
When this episode first aired, I felt like a shot or two had been cut from the episode-- mostly because of where Sam's gaze goes right before the camera cuts away. This is what ran through my head. Thanks to samidha for posting the quote that reminded me of this over at spnquotefic
quote was: "I don't think it's my blood."
"Thank you." Sam says, still trying to catch his breath, still trying to slow down his heart. It's still pounding with adrenaline, with fear.
"That's what family's for, right? Keep pressure on that." Dean says and leaves Sam with his forearms pressed together, the cloth napkins rapidly soaking up the blood still spilling from the deep slices in his forearms. Sam sluggishly turns his head to try to follow Dean as he leaves, but he's already out of sight. He turns back just as slowly and his eyes land on one of the bowls on the floor. The bottom of the bowl is covered in blood-- his blood.
The ghouls said his blood tasted "different." Sam thinks through the haze of pain. He can't stop staring at the bowl on the floor. It's his blood, but it isn't, not entirely.
He looks away from the bowl, and stares at his hands. He can barely feel them over the constant ache in his forearms. The napkins, no longer beige, but a deep dark red, are starting to drip-- more of his blood but not runs down the side of his arms and into his palms. Sam watches a few drops roll off his hand and onto his pant-leg.
Sam resists the urge to look down at the bowl on the floor again. He's thirsty, and water would help a whole lot right now, but there's something else that would help a whole lot more. That bowl-- it's not just his blood in there.
He hears Dean moving through the house, it sounds like his footsteps are getting closer again. If Dean wasn't here right now, then maybe he could...
Sam clenches his eyes shut and tries to stop thinking. He still sees red everywhere, and the smell of his blood but not is everywhere.
"Hey Sammy. Time to go." Dean says, and he sounds so far away. Dean always feels far away these days.
Sam opens his eyes and looks at Dean, ignoring the bowl on the floor. He's not going to look at it again. It's okay, because later, when they get back to the motel room, he'll get a minute or two where he'll be alone. Ruby's flask is still about half full. Sam usually tries to make it last as long as he can, but this is a unique circumstance. He'll call Ruby as soon as he can, and she'll come. She always does. He'll tell her he was hurt, and she'll hurry.
Dean cuts Sam's legs free from the table and helps him down to the floor. They leave the house, slowly, Sam trying to keep his forearms pressed tightly together. They leave the house, and Sam doesn't look at the bowl on the floor.
When this episode first aired, I felt like a shot or two had been cut from the episode-- mostly because of where Sam's gaze goes right before the camera cuts away. This is what ran through my head. Thanks to samidha for posting the quote that reminded me of this over at spnquotefic
quote was: "I don't think it's my blood."
"Thank you." Sam says, still trying to catch his breath, still trying to slow down his heart. It's still pounding with adrenaline, with fear.
"That's what family's for, right? Keep pressure on that." Dean says and leaves Sam with his forearms pressed together, the cloth napkins rapidly soaking up the blood still spilling from the deep slices in his forearms. Sam sluggishly turns his head to try to follow Dean as he leaves, but he's already out of sight. He turns back just as slowly and his eyes land on one of the bowls on the floor. The bottom of the bowl is covered in blood-- his blood.
The ghouls said his blood tasted "different." Sam thinks through the haze of pain. He can't stop staring at the bowl on the floor. It's his blood, but it isn't, not entirely.
He looks away from the bowl, and stares at his hands. He can barely feel them over the constant ache in his forearms. The napkins, no longer beige, but a deep dark red, are starting to drip-- more of his blood but not runs down the side of his arms and into his palms. Sam watches a few drops roll off his hand and onto his pant-leg.
Sam resists the urge to look down at the bowl on the floor again. He's thirsty, and water would help a whole lot right now, but there's something else that would help a whole lot more. That bowl-- it's not just his blood in there.
He hears Dean moving through the house, it sounds like his footsteps are getting closer again. If Dean wasn't here right now, then maybe he could...
Sam clenches his eyes shut and tries to stop thinking. He still sees red everywhere, and the smell of his blood but not is everywhere.
"Hey Sammy. Time to go." Dean says, and he sounds so far away. Dean always feels far away these days.
Sam opens his eyes and looks at Dean, ignoring the bowl on the floor. He's not going to look at it again. It's okay, because later, when they get back to the motel room, he'll get a minute or two where he'll be alone. Ruby's flask is still about half full. Sam usually tries to make it last as long as he can, but this is a unique circumstance. He'll call Ruby as soon as he can, and she'll come. She always does. He'll tell her he was hurt, and she'll hurry.
Dean cuts Sam's legs free from the table and helps him down to the floor. They leave the house, slowly, Sam trying to keep his forearms pressed tightly together. They leave the house, and Sam doesn't look at the bowl on the floor.