Not Heroes - Double Drabble
Title: Not Heroes
Rating: PG13
Fandoms: Supernatural/Heroes (Sam/Nathan)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and Heroes are not mine.
Summary: They're not heroes. They're too sharp and unclean.
They’re not heroes. They’re too sharp and unclean, despite Sam’s soft eyes and Nathan’s too-neat clothes.
Invisible blood on their hands. Past cries and condemnations in their ears.
“I was just trying to do the right thing,” they say, but the road paved with good intentions dropped off at the end and they turned back to realize they’d left everyone else behind. Bloody and broken and, “I never meant for that to happen,” as they put them back together with glue and tape.
“I’m sorry,” they say, but sorry never fixed anything so they just see backs as they walk out the door one by one. Small and needy and, “Please, don’t go,” but they never say it loud enough and they're left alone - again.
Being alone made the blood clearer and the cries louder.
So, Nathan would find him by air or Sam would find him by car. Hands would dig in and teeth would clash painfully: “You fucked up again, didn’t you?”
And one would push and the other would push back because of course they fucked up. They always fucked up. They were fucked up boys bathing in the light of heroes but never shining themselves.
Too sharp and unclean for that.
Rating: PG13
Fandoms: Supernatural/Heroes (Sam/Nathan)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and Heroes are not mine.
Summary: They're not heroes. They're too sharp and unclean.
They’re not heroes. They’re too sharp and unclean, despite Sam’s soft eyes and Nathan’s too-neat clothes.
Invisible blood on their hands. Past cries and condemnations in their ears.
“I was just trying to do the right thing,” they say, but the road paved with good intentions dropped off at the end and they turned back to realize they’d left everyone else behind. Bloody and broken and, “I never meant for that to happen,” as they put them back together with glue and tape.
“I’m sorry,” they say, but sorry never fixed anything so they just see backs as they walk out the door one by one. Small and needy and, “Please, don’t go,” but they never say it loud enough and they're left alone - again.
Being alone made the blood clearer and the cries louder.
So, Nathan would find him by air or Sam would find him by car. Hands would dig in and teeth would clash painfully: “You fucked up again, didn’t you?”
And one would push and the other would push back because of course they fucked up. They always fucked up. They were fucked up boys bathing in the light of heroes but never shining themselves.
Too sharp and unclean for that.