The Things We Left Behind (Rating PG-13, Dean)
Managed another 200 words today somehow. As tired as I am it was a challenge just to stay awake, but I did. The word of the day was, 'mark'. Hope that you guys like it. :)
Title: The Things We Left Behind
Author: Digitalwave
Fandom: Supernatural
Character: Dean
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 200 words
Spoilers: Gen series spoilers for all aired episodes, inc 6.07
Summary: So much had been lost lately, this was just one more thing...
Dean watched, silently, as Sam went into another punishing round of weight exercises. He moved effortlessly through his routines, the only tell of how hard he worked the sweat pouring in rivulets down his body.
Now that Dean knew what he thought was the truth about Sam’s latest round of lame-assed lies, he wasn’t even going through the motions of pretending to sleep. Dean sacked out at night to the glow of the perpetually on laptop and woke up every morning to Johnnie Unitas doing his thing between the beds.
He knew he was staring but, hey, what the hell? It’s not as if Sammy’s feelings would be hurt. It’s just, it was too weird watching the play of muscles across his back as Sam moved.
Just like when Dean was first back topside, every mark on Sam, every wound, every broken bone, was magically healed. Almost everything, anyway; Castiel’s mark on his left shoulder had been raw, painful and impossible to ignore.
But, Sam? His skin was untouched; the roadmap of their lives together missing. Guess ‘ol Crowley hadn’t quite held on tight enough when he pulled Sam up. He’d left some pretty damned important bits of him behind.
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Title: The Things We Left Behind
Author: Digitalwave
Fandom: Supernatural
Character: Dean
Rating: PG-13 for language
Word Count: 200 words
Spoilers: Gen series spoilers for all aired episodes, inc 6.07
Summary: So much had been lost lately, this was just one more thing...
Dean watched, silently, as Sam went into another punishing round of weight exercises. He moved effortlessly through his routines, the only tell of how hard he worked the sweat pouring in rivulets down his body.
Now that Dean knew what he thought was the truth about Sam’s latest round of lame-assed lies, he wasn’t even going through the motions of pretending to sleep. Dean sacked out at night to the glow of the perpetually on laptop and woke up every morning to Johnnie Unitas doing his thing between the beds.
He knew he was staring but, hey, what the hell? It’s not as if Sammy’s feelings would be hurt. It’s just, it was too weird watching the play of muscles across his back as Sam moved.
Just like when Dean was first back topside, every mark on Sam, every wound, every broken bone, was magically healed. Almost everything, anyway; Castiel’s mark on his left shoulder had been raw, painful and impossible to ignore.
But, Sam? His skin was untouched; the roadmap of their lives together missing. Guess ‘ol Crowley hadn’t quite held on tight enough when he pulled Sam up. He’d left some pretty damned important bits of him behind.
You can also read this entry on Dreamwidth (
comments)