SPN Fanfic: Through Your Eyes
Title: Through Your Eyes
Warnings: SPOILERS for 4.06
Rating: GEN, PG13
Word Count: 1100 words
Characters: Sam, Dean
Disclaimer: All Kripke's, I'm just trying to fill in some blanks.
Summary: Missing/alternate scene from 4.06. Sam's POV of the hotel room scene.
A/N: Well, I said I wanted to see it, so here's my take on it. Not humour.
-
Through Your Eyes
by CaffieneKitty
-
Sam strode down the hall at the Bluebird, intent on dropping Luther Garland's file on the first level surface available and immediately heading back out to continue the search for Dean.
I know he's sick, I never should have let him walk away like that. Where the hell is he?
He'd look all night, but he didn't have all night. If he couldn't find Dean in the next half hour, he was calling Bobby and anyone else he could find that'd be willing to help look. Or had other ways of finding his freaked out brother who'd disappeared as he was slowly getting scared to death.
When he opened the door and saw Dean in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and panting slightly, the relief hit Sam like a physical wave. He put his room key into his pocket. "I looked everywhere for you Dean! How the hell'd you get here?"
"Ran?" Dean looked lost, younger than he'd ever been.
Asking why Dean had run and probably finding out what other completely non-scary things had suddenly become terrifying to his older brother did not feel like a good idea to Sam. He went and sat on the other bed.
"What do we do now?" Dean asked, wavering. "I got less than four hours on the clock."
Sam sighed, not sure what to say. Plans for dealing with this 'ghost sickness' were eliminating themselves before they had a chance to try any of them.
"I'm gonna die, Sammy!"
"No you're not!" Sam stated, unable to sit there silently. They had to find a plan, any plan. They needed to find some way to break this. "We're going back."
"Back?" Dean sounded freaked. Again. Sam looked over at his brother who was perched on the edge of the bed, looking... freaked.
I can't believe how scared he still is of that place. "Don't be scared, Dean. The mill."
Dean's face went blank, tense, his eyes shifting nervously, the beginnings of a frown crumpling his forehead.
Sam looked across the room at the wall. Even when they were kids, Dean was never this jumpy about anything. It was unnerving. Dean always bottled fear up, especially around Sam, thinking his wall of attitude hid it all away. To see this raw, exposed panic over nothing... It was like this wasn't really Dean at all. It was a Dean that Sam had no idea how to react to.
"We're running out of time, but we'll do it. Luther's..." Sam turned to smile reassuringly at Dean, "just another pain in the ass."
Dean stared back at him like he had just said he wanted roasted babies for breakfast.
"Dean?"
Dean's eyes popped open wide. He shot up from the bed and charged towards Sam, attacking.
"Hey!" Sam brought his hands up automatically to fend Dean off, try to catch him, but Dean threw himself stumbling backwards, slamming his back flat against the far wall. He was gasping; his gaze flicked around the room before returning to Sam.
"Dean!?"
"No!" Dean's voice was high with tension, terrified. "You get outta my brother you evil son of a bitch!" Enraged.
Oh god he thinks I'm possessed. "No one's possessing me, Dean!" Sam stood slowly, spreading his hands out and approached his panicking brother. "This is just a hallucination."
Dean stared down towards the floor, straining against a force that wasn't there, then raised defiant eyes to meet Sam's.
Sam hoped the hallucination was over and cautiously put a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean flinched, his face pinched up with incredulous misery and horror. No, still hallucinating.
"Dean, please, you've got to be calm," said Sam, focussing on keeping his voice level and even, watching his brother's anguished face. "There's nothing I can do about this."
Sam's thoughts were anything but level and even. There's four hours to go, he's not dying now... The other victims of this ghost sickness didn't have as many things to fear in their lives as he and Dean did, though. Maybe with Dean it would go faster, and he'd die sooner... Oh God.
Sam pressed a hand over his brother's heart. He could feel Dean's chest twitch with the pressure of each heartbeat. No, no, don't die! Not again!
Dean's head suddenly jerked back, choking, face going red.
"Heyheyheyheyhey Dean! Hey Dean! Dean! Dean!" Sam gripped Dean's arm, one hand still on his brother's chest, and shook him to try to snap him back to reality. Dean thunked back into the wall and Sam winced trying not to think of what Dean's hallucination might turn that into.
Dean's eyes locked on Sam's, clearer and focused. Sam could feel Dean's heart rate slowing as he wound down from hyperventilating. Thank God. He patted Dean's chest. Dean nodded jerkily, acknowledging his return to reality. Sam walked back across the room, but could still feel Dean staring at his back.
Yeah. I can guess why.
Sam rubbed a hand over his face. "I- we can't do this Dean."
"C- can't do what?" Sam hated the hesitation in Dean's voice.
"You can't work the case if you're hallucinating." I can't stand seeing fear in your eyes when you look at me. And I can't stand by helpless while you die again.
Dean eased away from the wall slowly, like he was expecting to be attacked. "But, you, you need backup, Sam. You said-"
"I'll call Bobby. I should have called him in long before now."
Dean looked crushed. "You don't need me?"
Sam pressed his lips together. "Dean, you're sick, okay? It's dangerous for you to be out right now. You know that. You tried to tell me before and I didn't see it. It's safer for both of us if you stay here."
Dean swallowed, eyes sliding away. "Yeah, sure."
Sam felt like he'd just kicked a puppy and huffed in frustration. "Just... take a sick day, okay? Stay here, it's all secure, watch some TV..."
He picked up the remote and flipped quickly past two horror movies (yet another reason he hated this time of year) to land on "Blanket Fort TV". Colourful clay figures capered around. Perfect. 24/7 non-threatening children's commercial-free programming. As long as the Teletubbies didn't come on, it should be fine for someone who's scared of everything. Everything including his own brother.
In the smallest voice Sam had ever heard from him, Dean said "Okay."
Sam's throat tightened and he dropped the remote on a chair. "Good. Don't worry, Dean. Me and Bobby'll get this straightened out."
"Yeah?"
"Promise."
The smile Dean gave Sam was watery, "...okay." Dean was still keeping his back towards the wall, watching Sam like the hallucination, whatever it was, might come back any second. Or might become real. Or might be real.
Sam could not get out of the room and away from his brother's fears fast enough. This ghost, disease, whatever was going down. No matter what it took.
- - -
(that's it)
Warnings: SPOILERS for 4.06
Rating: GEN, PG13
Word Count: 1100 words
Characters: Sam, Dean
Disclaimer: All Kripke's, I'm just trying to fill in some blanks.
Summary: Missing/alternate scene from 4.06. Sam's POV of the hotel room scene.
A/N: Well, I said I wanted to see it, so here's my take on it. Not humour.
-
Through Your Eyes
by CaffieneKitty
-
Sam strode down the hall at the Bluebird, intent on dropping Luther Garland's file on the first level surface available and immediately heading back out to continue the search for Dean.
I know he's sick, I never should have let him walk away like that. Where the hell is he?
He'd look all night, but he didn't have all night. If he couldn't find Dean in the next half hour, he was calling Bobby and anyone else he could find that'd be willing to help look. Or had other ways of finding his freaked out brother who'd disappeared as he was slowly getting scared to death.
When he opened the door and saw Dean in the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and panting slightly, the relief hit Sam like a physical wave. He put his room key into his pocket. "I looked everywhere for you Dean! How the hell'd you get here?"
"Ran?" Dean looked lost, younger than he'd ever been.
Asking why Dean had run and probably finding out what other completely non-scary things had suddenly become terrifying to his older brother did not feel like a good idea to Sam. He went and sat on the other bed.
"What do we do now?" Dean asked, wavering. "I got less than four hours on the clock."
Sam sighed, not sure what to say. Plans for dealing with this 'ghost sickness' were eliminating themselves before they had a chance to try any of them.
"I'm gonna die, Sammy!"
"No you're not!" Sam stated, unable to sit there silently. They had to find a plan, any plan. They needed to find some way to break this. "We're going back."
"Back?" Dean sounded freaked. Again. Sam looked over at his brother who was perched on the edge of the bed, looking... freaked.
I can't believe how scared he still is of that place. "Don't be scared, Dean. The mill."
Dean's face went blank, tense, his eyes shifting nervously, the beginnings of a frown crumpling his forehead.
Sam looked across the room at the wall. Even when they were kids, Dean was never this jumpy about anything. It was unnerving. Dean always bottled fear up, especially around Sam, thinking his wall of attitude hid it all away. To see this raw, exposed panic over nothing... It was like this wasn't really Dean at all. It was a Dean that Sam had no idea how to react to.
"We're running out of time, but we'll do it. Luther's..." Sam turned to smile reassuringly at Dean, "just another pain in the ass."
Dean stared back at him like he had just said he wanted roasted babies for breakfast.
"Dean?"
Dean's eyes popped open wide. He shot up from the bed and charged towards Sam, attacking.
"Hey!" Sam brought his hands up automatically to fend Dean off, try to catch him, but Dean threw himself stumbling backwards, slamming his back flat against the far wall. He was gasping; his gaze flicked around the room before returning to Sam.
"Dean!?"
"No!" Dean's voice was high with tension, terrified. "You get outta my brother you evil son of a bitch!" Enraged.
Oh god he thinks I'm possessed. "No one's possessing me, Dean!" Sam stood slowly, spreading his hands out and approached his panicking brother. "This is just a hallucination."
Dean stared down towards the floor, straining against a force that wasn't there, then raised defiant eyes to meet Sam's.
Sam hoped the hallucination was over and cautiously put a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean flinched, his face pinched up with incredulous misery and horror. No, still hallucinating.
"Dean, please, you've got to be calm," said Sam, focussing on keeping his voice level and even, watching his brother's anguished face. "There's nothing I can do about this."
Sam's thoughts were anything but level and even. There's four hours to go, he's not dying now... The other victims of this ghost sickness didn't have as many things to fear in their lives as he and Dean did, though. Maybe with Dean it would go faster, and he'd die sooner... Oh God.
Sam pressed a hand over his brother's heart. He could feel Dean's chest twitch with the pressure of each heartbeat. No, no, don't die! Not again!
Dean's head suddenly jerked back, choking, face going red.
"Heyheyheyheyhey Dean! Hey Dean! Dean! Dean!" Sam gripped Dean's arm, one hand still on his brother's chest, and shook him to try to snap him back to reality. Dean thunked back into the wall and Sam winced trying not to think of what Dean's hallucination might turn that into.
Dean's eyes locked on Sam's, clearer and focused. Sam could feel Dean's heart rate slowing as he wound down from hyperventilating. Thank God. He patted Dean's chest. Dean nodded jerkily, acknowledging his return to reality. Sam walked back across the room, but could still feel Dean staring at his back.
Yeah. I can guess why.
Sam rubbed a hand over his face. "I- we can't do this Dean."
"C- can't do what?" Sam hated the hesitation in Dean's voice.
"You can't work the case if you're hallucinating." I can't stand seeing fear in your eyes when you look at me. And I can't stand by helpless while you die again.
Dean eased away from the wall slowly, like he was expecting to be attacked. "But, you, you need backup, Sam. You said-"
"I'll call Bobby. I should have called him in long before now."
Dean looked crushed. "You don't need me?"
Sam pressed his lips together. "Dean, you're sick, okay? It's dangerous for you to be out right now. You know that. You tried to tell me before and I didn't see it. It's safer for both of us if you stay here."
Dean swallowed, eyes sliding away. "Yeah, sure."
Sam felt like he'd just kicked a puppy and huffed in frustration. "Just... take a sick day, okay? Stay here, it's all secure, watch some TV..."
He picked up the remote and flipped quickly past two horror movies (yet another reason he hated this time of year) to land on "Blanket Fort TV". Colourful clay figures capered around. Perfect. 24/7 non-threatening children's commercial-free programming. As long as the Teletubbies didn't come on, it should be fine for someone who's scared of everything. Everything including his own brother.
In the smallest voice Sam had ever heard from him, Dean said "Okay."
Sam's throat tightened and he dropped the remote on a chair. "Good. Don't worry, Dean. Me and Bobby'll get this straightened out."
"Yeah?"
"Promise."
The smile Dean gave Sam was watery, "...okay." Dean was still keeping his back towards the wall, watching Sam like the hallucination, whatever it was, might come back any second. Or might become real. Or might be real.
Sam could not get out of the room and away from his brother's fears fast enough. This ghost, disease, whatever was going down. No matter what it took.
- - -
(that's it)