OMG YOU GUYS!
Can you believe that it's been six months already? 282 members, 347 people watching! And it's all thanks to
YOU! You fabulous people, you!
You know what that means, right?
Comment-fic!
Hurting Sam is a necessary part of celebrating our six-month anniversary. So have at it!
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Not really hereDean watches Sam like a hawk. It's been a month since he the road with his brother. A month of wondering and worrying. Still a month he's treasured, every second of it. Sam is back, messed up like never before, but he's back. No longer in the deepest of hell, the ninth circle of perdition, at east not physically. Where is head is, Dean has to onde at times. He remembers coming back, remembers the painful memories assaulting him. That wordless panic that petrified him. Sam won't talk about it, Dean can barely imagine what it was like - because yes, he heard stories when he was in the pit. Stories he's been trying to forget ever since Sam took the dive ( ... )
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I miss the old Dean so friggen much! *sniffle* Thanks or reading!
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Sam's back from the cage. It's not like he's been tortured on a rack, not like Dean. But Lucifer has been in his head the whole time, appearing as John, and Jess, and Dean, and Sam's mirror image, telling him that he's worthless and a failure and a monster and he does nothing but destroy the people who love him. Dean can't figure out at first why Sam can no longer believe that Dean loves him or wants him. Dean rebuilds him.
Any level of schmoop is acceptable and welcome.
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Sam read a scientific study once, about how the act of smiling could elevate your mood, even if you had no reason to be happy. So Dean says, "C'mon, bitch," and Sam smiles, hoping that if he does, he'll feel the old warmth the term of endearment used to bring. And when Dean jokes, "That's my brother, he's a little slow," to their witness, Sam smiles, even though all he can think about is the truth behind the joke. He was slow enough to let himself be tricked into letting the devil loose.
And when Dean says, "Can it wait, Sam? I gotta call Lisa back. Can you believe Ben just got himself booted from the new team?" Sam smiles, though it's hard as can be to make it look real, when all he feels is guilt that he has Dean here with him, and misery, that he can't bring himself to let Dean go ( ... )
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Sam concentrated on remembering the details of the vision: bloody walls, a broken body crumpled on the floor, an address - 644 Robins Lane.
Robins Lane, Robins Lane, Robins Lane, all the little birdies on Jaybird Street, love to hear the robin go tweet, tweet, tweet.
Dean would be there in moment with meds and ice to help dull the resulting migraine. He had to remember to tell him when he came.
rockin' robin, rock, rock
Rock, rock, a rock was digging him in the back, grating on his ribs. Breathe, breathe, breathe, that's what he needed to do. That's what Dean told him to do. When he gave him the meds and wrapped the ice around his head. Dean always knew what to do.
the wise old owl, the big black crow, flappin' their wings singing go bird goGo, he had to go. No, wait, ( ... )
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The sun was glinting off the building. Dammit, Sam had been taking a short cut through an alley back to the motel. He'd been bringing back dinner, when the vision had struck. He was so close to Dean, to home. If only he could get up.
all the little birdies on Jaybird Street, love to hear the robin go tweet, tweet, tweet.
"Sam?! Sam you answer me right the hell now, or so help me god! Sam!Sam mustered his strength, knew yelling back would ratchet up the pain, "Dean ( ... )
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