Fic: Surviving (SPN)
Title: Surviving
Pairing: Dean/Lisa, mentions of Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Summary: Originally written for the prompt: 'Between S5 and S6, Dean/Lisa and/or Sam/Dean, Dean trying to figure out how to save Sam' at a comment meme.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean leaned back in his chair, his eyes still focused on the book in front of him. Symbols that he didn’t understand - Dad had always warned him to stay away from this kind of thing - filled the page but he could already tell that the runes wouldn’t be useful, that they wouldn’t help him to rescue Sam from the pit.
He reached for the whiskey, poured himself an extra large measure and tossed it back in one. It wasn’t like he could savor it anyway; these days, he couldn’t taste anything but the charred edges of Hell. But the burn that played down his throat was familiar and it was about the only thing that he could recognize in this strange new life - existence - that he called his own.
“Dean?”
He twisted in his seat to face Lisa, gave a half-smile at the way she was leaning in the doorway, all understanding and no real expectations. This was what he had wanted for so long; a family, someone to tell him that it was getting late and he should go to bed. It wasn’t the first time she had had to come and find him late at night and it wouldn’t be the last, he would keep going until he either found what he was looking for or had nowhere left to look.
“I won’t be long.” He looked back at the book, turned it over onto the next page and, just for a second, he hoped that this would be the moment he would find something, anything, that might bring Sam back.
“You said that over two hours ago.” And there was no blame there in her voice, just exhaustion.
There was something there - a mention of Lucifer - and it was probably nothing but he pulled his chair in closer to the table anyway. “He’s my brother, Lisa.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
He didn’t need to be able to see her to know what the disappointment on her face looked like and he turned around to say something, to try and make it better, but she was already gone. He bit his bottom lip; Lisa would still be around in the morning but Sam would never be around again unless he found a way to save him so carried on reading.
The book was a load of crap; its lore about Lucifer was all wrong and he should have known not to expect anything good, he should have learned that a long time ago.
There were no more books to read, not until he managed to get some more off Bobby and that wouldn’t be easy; the hunter had been telling him to ease off for weeks now. Closing his eyes, Dean worked through his remaining options in his head and swore. He no longer had a choice; he had to go back on his word. Months ago, lying side by side in a lousy motel room, they had both promised that there would be no more deals, no more co-operating with the scum that they hunted.
He grabbed the keys to the truck and hit the light switch, leaving the room in darkness as he headed for the front door. Sometimes, it was worth breaking a promise.
Pairing: Dean/Lisa, mentions of Sam/Dean
Rating: PG
Summary: Originally written for the prompt: 'Between S5 and S6, Dean/Lisa and/or Sam/Dean, Dean trying to figure out how to save Sam' at a comment meme.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean leaned back in his chair, his eyes still focused on the book in front of him. Symbols that he didn’t understand - Dad had always warned him to stay away from this kind of thing - filled the page but he could already tell that the runes wouldn’t be useful, that they wouldn’t help him to rescue Sam from the pit.
He reached for the whiskey, poured himself an extra large measure and tossed it back in one. It wasn’t like he could savor it anyway; these days, he couldn’t taste anything but the charred edges of Hell. But the burn that played down his throat was familiar and it was about the only thing that he could recognize in this strange new life - existence - that he called his own.
“Dean?”
He twisted in his seat to face Lisa, gave a half-smile at the way she was leaning in the doorway, all understanding and no real expectations. This was what he had wanted for so long; a family, someone to tell him that it was getting late and he should go to bed. It wasn’t the first time she had had to come and find him late at night and it wouldn’t be the last, he would keep going until he either found what he was looking for or had nowhere left to look.
“I won’t be long.” He looked back at the book, turned it over onto the next page and, just for a second, he hoped that this would be the moment he would find something, anything, that might bring Sam back.
“You said that over two hours ago.” And there was no blame there in her voice, just exhaustion.
There was something there - a mention of Lucifer - and it was probably nothing but he pulled his chair in closer to the table anyway. “He’s my brother, Lisa.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
He didn’t need to be able to see her to know what the disappointment on her face looked like and he turned around to say something, to try and make it better, but she was already gone. He bit his bottom lip; Lisa would still be around in the morning but Sam would never be around again unless he found a way to save him so carried on reading.
The book was a load of crap; its lore about Lucifer was all wrong and he should have known not to expect anything good, he should have learned that a long time ago.
There were no more books to read, not until he managed to get some more off Bobby and that wouldn’t be easy; the hunter had been telling him to ease off for weeks now. Closing his eyes, Dean worked through his remaining options in his head and swore. He no longer had a choice; he had to go back on his word. Months ago, lying side by side in a lousy motel room, they had both promised that there would be no more deals, no more co-operating with the scum that they hunted.
He grabbed the keys to the truck and hit the light switch, leaving the room in darkness as he headed for the front door. Sometimes, it was worth breaking a promise.