FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 1authoressnebulaMay 4 2011, 01:55:39 UTC
Hope you don't mind the direction this went...
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Sam was staring back into the room like it held all the mysteries of life. Dean didn't exactly understand why; they'd only been there for a few days, tops. Well, Dean had, at any rate.
Apparently Sam had been there for hundreds of days already.
Frickin' trickster. Hundreds of days of watching Dean die was enough to make anyone go a little stir crazy, let alone just plain old crazy. Sam's demands that morning, considering everything, hadn't been all that unreasonable. Maybe the diner in town was really suck-ass, so breakfast had to be elsewhere. And if it meant Sam was at peace heading down the stairs with Dean to the car, then they'd walk hand in hand for all Dean cared
( ... )
FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 3authoressnebulaMay 4 2011, 02:28:22 UTC
No matter what Dean tried to do, he couldn't get the blood off of his hands.
Oh, he'd washed enough times, when he'd finally realized it was going to take them awhile to get news back to him about Sam. He'd lathered, rinsed, soaped himself up enough to make himself the top choice for any soap commercial. But there were always a tiny spot, here or there, and he'd have to wash all over again. His fingers were getting prunish, and still the blood wouldn't come off.
Blood. Sam. Dean shut his eyes tight. His fingers clung to the sides of the ceramic white sink, and he let his head hang. Anything to not think about Sam dying in the parking lot.
"Did what, Sam?"
"Saved you."
Even as he'd coughed up blood, even as more blood had gushed through Dean's fingers, making them slippery and stained, Sam had smiled. Blood coating his teeth, tears unheeded rolling down his cheeks, and he'd smiled.
"Saved you."He'd known. Somehow, he'd known that the guy from the diner would show up with a gun. He'd told Dean not to go down to the
( ... )
FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDauthoressnebulaMay 4 2011, 02:43:36 UTC
When Sam could sense things again, the feelings of wrong and cold weren't as strong anymore. There was light, way more light, and something burning through his nostrils. He focused on his muscles and slowly lifted his eyelids.
The room was a light blue, paint that had seen better days. There was a curtain that hung around one corner of his bed, and a door to his right stood closed. The entire room smelled like cleaning supplies, the strong ones. Hospital.
Dean.
Something caught his hand before he was even able to try sitting up, making him shift his focus to the left. Dean was right there, alive and looking a little worse for the wear, but alive. Sam could handle the worse for wear and the multiple day shadows under his eyes and on his jaw. When was the last time Dean had seen a razor? Or a bed
( ... )
Re: FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDphreakycatMay 4 2011, 03:39:14 UTC
Perfect! What a fitting and awesome fill for my vague prompt! For some reason I didn't even think of the whole Mystery Spot/Deal thing, but now that I've read this it seems perfect and obvious. LOL This was AWESOME! Thank you so much for sacrificing your productivity for my humble prompts. ;)
Re: FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDcarocaliMay 11 2011, 04:47:23 UTC
Mystery Spot! I LOVE that you did this! That shot in the parking lot on Wednesday was worse than everything. And Sam's face! How wonderful that you gave Sam the chance to save Dean.
Re: FILLED: Aim, Shoot, Repeat Pt. 4 - ENDcrazybeagleMay 13 2011, 06:32:32 UTC
Oh oh oh... Heartbreaking and gorgeous in so many ways. (It's 2:30 AM, I can't give you anything more substantial than that.) It just killed me that the first thing that naturally occurred to Sam to do was the hardest thing for Dean to witness and the one that seemed most pointless in light of the deal. Beautifully done. And the last line.... >sob< BUT HE DIDN'T. OH SAMMY.
there's a bullet in the gun.
That's why I tried to save you,
but it can't be done.
It can't be done."
Is it unreasonable of me to ask for a happy ending right after posting lyrics like these? *hopeful look*
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But it's gotta wait until I get home from work tonight. You has patience, yes yes?
~Nebula
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Sam was staring back into the room like it held all the mysteries of life. Dean didn't exactly understand why; they'd only been there for a few days, tops. Well, Dean had, at any rate.
Apparently Sam had been there for hundreds of days already.
Frickin' trickster. Hundreds of days of watching Dean die was enough to make anyone go a little stir crazy, let alone just plain old crazy. Sam's demands that morning, considering everything, hadn't been all that unreasonable. Maybe the diner in town was really suck-ass, so breakfast had to be elsewhere. And if it meant Sam was at peace heading down the stairs with Dean to the car, then they'd walk hand in hand for all Dean cared ( ... )
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Oh, he'd washed enough times, when he'd finally realized it was going to take them awhile to get news back to him about Sam. He'd lathered, rinsed, soaped himself up enough to make himself the top choice for any soap commercial. But there were always a tiny spot, here or there, and he'd have to wash all over again. His fingers were getting prunish, and still the blood wouldn't come off.
Blood. Sam. Dean shut his eyes tight. His fingers clung to the sides of the ceramic white sink, and he let his head hang. Anything to not think about Sam dying in the parking lot.
"Did what, Sam?"
"Saved you."
Even as he'd coughed up blood, even as more blood had gushed through Dean's fingers, making them slippery and stained, Sam had smiled. Blood coating his teeth, tears unheeded rolling down his cheeks, and he'd smiled.
"Saved you."He'd known. Somehow, he'd known that the guy from the diner would show up with a gun. He'd told Dean not to go down to the ( ... )
Reply
The room was a light blue, paint that had seen better days. There was a curtain that hung around one corner of his bed, and a door to his right stood closed. The entire room smelled like cleaning supplies, the strong ones. Hospital.
Dean.
Something caught his hand before he was even able to try sitting up, making him shift his focus to the left. Dean was right there, alive and looking a little worse for the wear, but alive. Sam could handle the worse for wear and the multiple day shadows under his eyes and on his jaw. When was the last time Dean had seen a razor? Or a bed ( ... )
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Heartbreaking and gorgeous in so many ways.
(It's 2:30 AM, I can't give you anything more substantial than that.)
It just killed me that the first thing that naturally occurred to Sam to do was the hardest thing for Dean to witness and the one that seemed most pointless in light of the deal. Beautifully done.
And the last line....
>sob<
BUT HE DIDN'T.
OH SAMMY.
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