Fic: Episode Coda 14.12
So much tension and brotherly feels! I was late to the watch party, but once again I just wanted to play around in the brothers' headspaces a bit, so I coda'd again. :)
Title: Untitled
Beta: Not beta’d
Genre(s): Episode coda.
Rating: PG-13, Gen
Spoilers: Episode 14.12
Word Count: ~ 530
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sand box.
Sam watches his brother. Dean’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen, cup of coffee steaming behind him, his eyes are closed and he’s massaging his forehead, neck bent as if he’s trying to pull away from something. Sam imagines Michael, hammering at the door; shouting.
Sam’s terrified that one of these days Dean will just take off. That he hasn’t really changed his mind; he just couldn’t watch his brother fall apart; tear-stained face and ugly crying; flickering back and forth from demanding to begging. Dean didn’t want to put this burden on Sam; that’s why he tried to ditch him. And Sam sure as hell doesn’t want it, but he can’t let Dean shoulder it alone either.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Dean says, eyes still closed.
Sam snorts. “Still with the gallows humor.”
“It’s all I got left,” Dean says.
And Sam. Just can’t. Can’t play along and pretend everything’s alright. Not anymore.
“So I was thinking,” he says. “Handcuffs.”
Dean opens his eyes. “Kinky,” his eyebrows waggle above flat, expressionless eyes. “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”
Sam refuses to be derailed. “We should put them on you.”
“Kinkier,” Dean says. “You do remember we’re brothers, right?”
Sam can’t help his eyeroll. “Don’t even go there. We’re not talking about that fanfic stuff. Ever.”
Finally, Dean’s eyes develop some expression. It may be a smirk at Sam’s expense, but Sam’ll take it. “You’re the one who brought it up,” Dean says.
“I know what you’re scared of,” Sam replies.
“Hey now, the slasher stuff ain’t that scary.”
Sam doesn’t bother to correct Dean’s terminology, because it’s so not the point.
“You’re scared that one of these days you’ll be rubbing your head and then, boom, your eyes flare blue and Michael’s out, standing here in the bunker, and then it’s Apocalypse Now. You’re scared we won’t have enough warning…enough time…to get you in the box.”
Dean’s listening now. “So you’re thinking the cuffs you used to subdue him last time?”
Sam nods. “Yeah, we put them on before we need them, and we make sure Cas stays around, have him check in several times a day, make sure you’re still at the wheel.”
Dean licks at his lips and then nods his head. “Okay. Go get ‘em.”
Sam raises his eyebrows. “What? Now?”
Dean’s expression is haunted. “You haven’t heard the things he’s threatening. First off, he’s gonna kill you. With my hands. That alone would just…end me, and he knows it. Then, just for kicks, just because he can, he’s planning to kill Cas. Then Jack. Then Mom. Slowly. While he makes me watch. And then he’s gonna burn this world down. I would rather be dead than forced to watch any of that, unable to do a damn thing about it. So please. Put me in those cuffs. Now. And promise me you won’t go soft on this. Promise me, Sammy.”
“I already promised,” Sam says. He meets Dean’s eyes, solemnly. “I’ll get the cuffs.”
Going soft and dropping Dean into the Mariana trench or two different things. He wonders if he should tell Dean about the hydraulic drill he ordered yesterday. Just in case.
--
Title: Untitled
Beta: Not beta’d
Genre(s): Episode coda.
Rating: PG-13, Gen
Spoilers: Episode 14.12
Word Count: ~ 530
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sand box.
Sam watches his brother. Dean’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen, cup of coffee steaming behind him, his eyes are closed and he’s massaging his forehead, neck bent as if he’s trying to pull away from something. Sam imagines Michael, hammering at the door; shouting.
Sam’s terrified that one of these days Dean will just take off. That he hasn’t really changed his mind; he just couldn’t watch his brother fall apart; tear-stained face and ugly crying; flickering back and forth from demanding to begging. Dean didn’t want to put this burden on Sam; that’s why he tried to ditch him. And Sam sure as hell doesn’t want it, but he can’t let Dean shoulder it alone either.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Dean says, eyes still closed.
Sam snorts. “Still with the gallows humor.”
“It’s all I got left,” Dean says.
And Sam. Just can’t. Can’t play along and pretend everything’s alright. Not anymore.
“So I was thinking,” he says. “Handcuffs.”
Dean opens his eyes. “Kinky,” his eyebrows waggle above flat, expressionless eyes. “I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing.”
Sam refuses to be derailed. “We should put them on you.”
“Kinkier,” Dean says. “You do remember we’re brothers, right?”
Sam can’t help his eyeroll. “Don’t even go there. We’re not talking about that fanfic stuff. Ever.”
Finally, Dean’s eyes develop some expression. It may be a smirk at Sam’s expense, but Sam’ll take it. “You’re the one who brought it up,” Dean says.
“I know what you’re scared of,” Sam replies.
“Hey now, the slasher stuff ain’t that scary.”
Sam doesn’t bother to correct Dean’s terminology, because it’s so not the point.
“You’re scared that one of these days you’ll be rubbing your head and then, boom, your eyes flare blue and Michael’s out, standing here in the bunker, and then it’s Apocalypse Now. You’re scared we won’t have enough warning…enough time…to get you in the box.”
Dean’s listening now. “So you’re thinking the cuffs you used to subdue him last time?”
Sam nods. “Yeah, we put them on before we need them, and we make sure Cas stays around, have him check in several times a day, make sure you’re still at the wheel.”
Dean licks at his lips and then nods his head. “Okay. Go get ‘em.”
Sam raises his eyebrows. “What? Now?”
Dean’s expression is haunted. “You haven’t heard the things he’s threatening. First off, he’s gonna kill you. With my hands. That alone would just…end me, and he knows it. Then, just for kicks, just because he can, he’s planning to kill Cas. Then Jack. Then Mom. Slowly. While he makes me watch. And then he’s gonna burn this world down. I would rather be dead than forced to watch any of that, unable to do a damn thing about it. So please. Put me in those cuffs. Now. And promise me you won’t go soft on this. Promise me, Sammy.”
“I already promised,” Sam says. He meets Dean’s eyes, solemnly. “I’ll get the cuffs.”
Going soft and dropping Dean into the Mariana trench or two different things. He wonders if he should tell Dean about the hydraulic drill he ordered yesterday. Just in case.
--