SPN Fic: Like light the quick dreams run
Like light the quick dreams run
Sam Winchester | 722 words | PG | coda for 7x23
a/n: Title from Conrad Aiken.
Summary: The strongest theory Sam has is one of the possibilities he doesn't want to be true.
Sam has no idea where his brother is.
"You know, you should probably get some sleep," Garth says at the end of his voice mail message.
Seated on the scratchy old couch in the cabin, Sam puts down his phone and rubs a hand over his face. There are half a dozen books Sam hasn't even opened yet, and a box on the floor containing some copies of the ones from Bobby's burned library. The old man's notes are written in the margins, and Sam's throat tightens as he takes a set of papers out the box and spots the familiar handwriting. He's been holed up in the cabin for five days now, searching for anything, the smallest scrap. He's been through all the lore on leviathans twice, has passages memorized. The strongest theory Sam has is one of the possibilities he doesn't want to be true, because that--the thought of it is just too big.
Sam's lost track of how much sleep he's had in the past five days--a few hours here and there, maybe.
He gets an email from Charlie, a link to a bittorrent file containing scans of some very old, very obscure stuff. She doesn't ask him how he is, but she ends the email promising "more TK."
The cabin's chilly, the sun long set. With the lamp burning nearby, he's in an island of pages, notes, laptop, the musty scent of old volumes and wood smell of the cabin, and the panic that keeps threatening to boil over, burst out of his chest.
With a heavy volume open on his lap, Sam falls asleep.
He starts awake what seems like moments later to find the cabin door is open to the night, only something's wrong. Instead of it being clear and cool the way it was when he dropped off, curls of mist hover in the door, the air heavy. There's no wind; he doesn't remember hearing the door bang, has no idea how it got open. Sam sets the book down and gets up. But instead of closing the door, Sam steps out on the porch in his bare feet, jeans and t-shirt.
The woods that surround the cabin are gone, mist swallowing them, and the trees seem wrong too--a lot larger, far more twisted. Sam takes a step closer to the railing and sees the cabin is now at the edge of a ravine he doesn't remember being there before.
There are shapes moving in the mist, sinuous forms that fade in and out of visibility. The glow of red eyes emerges and fades, with low growls and a thin high wordless call that makes gooseflesh form along Sam's arms.
"Dean?" He says, tentatively. Sam goes right to the railing, grips the wood hard, and yells this time into the mist. "Dean!"
Sam shouts his brother's name for a long time and gets no answer.
"Castiel?" He tries finally instead, uncertain, more quietly.
But there's only the mist and the glint of red eyes. Sam's not sure why he did that--part of him wants to stop believing. He's not angry, but sometimes he can still hear the strange cracking sound inside his head when Castiel touched his forehead in that alley. Except Castiel came back, and he fixed what he could, and while Sam's not sure what to think any more, the one thing that's keeping the panic from breaking loose is the possibility that wherever Dean is, Castiel is likely with him. They were both closest to Dick Roman when--whatever it was happened.
Sam wakes to the sound of the text alert on his phone. The cabin is cool, the door closed, the book resting open on his lap, his cheek against the couch cushion. His heart's hammering in his chest. Sam fumbles for the phone and sees he's been asleep for hours.
Did u eat? Jody wants to know.
Just about to, he texts back. There are cans of soup in the cabinet and leftover pizza in the fridge.
He refrains from asking her if she's heard anything. She would tell him if she had.
Sam heats up the soup, stirring it with one hand and reading pages of notes with the other.
Sam thinks he knows where his brother is.
He just has to figure out a way to get him out.
This entry is also on dreamwidth: http://dotfic.dreamwidth.org/420644.html. Feel free to comment at either post.
Sam Winchester | 722 words | PG | coda for 7x23
a/n: Title from Conrad Aiken.
Summary: The strongest theory Sam has is one of the possibilities he doesn't want to be true.
Sam has no idea where his brother is.
"You know, you should probably get some sleep," Garth says at the end of his voice mail message.
Seated on the scratchy old couch in the cabin, Sam puts down his phone and rubs a hand over his face. There are half a dozen books Sam hasn't even opened yet, and a box on the floor containing some copies of the ones from Bobby's burned library. The old man's notes are written in the margins, and Sam's throat tightens as he takes a set of papers out the box and spots the familiar handwriting. He's been holed up in the cabin for five days now, searching for anything, the smallest scrap. He's been through all the lore on leviathans twice, has passages memorized. The strongest theory Sam has is one of the possibilities he doesn't want to be true, because that--the thought of it is just too big.
Sam's lost track of how much sleep he's had in the past five days--a few hours here and there, maybe.
He gets an email from Charlie, a link to a bittorrent file containing scans of some very old, very obscure stuff. She doesn't ask him how he is, but she ends the email promising "more TK."
The cabin's chilly, the sun long set. With the lamp burning nearby, he's in an island of pages, notes, laptop, the musty scent of old volumes and wood smell of the cabin, and the panic that keeps threatening to boil over, burst out of his chest.
With a heavy volume open on his lap, Sam falls asleep.
He starts awake what seems like moments later to find the cabin door is open to the night, only something's wrong. Instead of it being clear and cool the way it was when he dropped off, curls of mist hover in the door, the air heavy. There's no wind; he doesn't remember hearing the door bang, has no idea how it got open. Sam sets the book down and gets up. But instead of closing the door, Sam steps out on the porch in his bare feet, jeans and t-shirt.
The woods that surround the cabin are gone, mist swallowing them, and the trees seem wrong too--a lot larger, far more twisted. Sam takes a step closer to the railing and sees the cabin is now at the edge of a ravine he doesn't remember being there before.
There are shapes moving in the mist, sinuous forms that fade in and out of visibility. The glow of red eyes emerges and fades, with low growls and a thin high wordless call that makes gooseflesh form along Sam's arms.
"Dean?" He says, tentatively. Sam goes right to the railing, grips the wood hard, and yells this time into the mist. "Dean!"
Sam shouts his brother's name for a long time and gets no answer.
"Castiel?" He tries finally instead, uncertain, more quietly.
But there's only the mist and the glint of red eyes. Sam's not sure why he did that--part of him wants to stop believing. He's not angry, but sometimes he can still hear the strange cracking sound inside his head when Castiel touched his forehead in that alley. Except Castiel came back, and he fixed what he could, and while Sam's not sure what to think any more, the one thing that's keeping the panic from breaking loose is the possibility that wherever Dean is, Castiel is likely with him. They were both closest to Dick Roman when--whatever it was happened.
Sam wakes to the sound of the text alert on his phone. The cabin is cool, the door closed, the book resting open on his lap, his cheek against the couch cushion. His heart's hammering in his chest. Sam fumbles for the phone and sees he's been asleep for hours.
Did u eat? Jody wants to know.
Just about to, he texts back. There are cans of soup in the cabinet and leftover pizza in the fridge.
He refrains from asking her if she's heard anything. She would tell him if she had.
Sam heats up the soup, stirring it with one hand and reading pages of notes with the other.
Sam thinks he knows where his brother is.
He just has to figure out a way to get him out.
This entry is also on dreamwidth: http://dotfic.dreamwidth.org/420644.html. Feel free to comment at either post.