[Slash] Color My Sky - And So It Is - 02
Title: Color My Sky
Author anyothergirl415
Character(s)/Pairing: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Theme: Theme 06 - 365. And So It Is
Prompt(s): 02. morning
Words: ~790
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I wish I controlled what happened but well, let’s be honest, who could really top Kripke?
Summary: Something is wrong with Sam. Clearly.
Warnings/Author Notes: The stories are all linked together in the same verse, I would recommend reading from the first prompt chronologically.
“Hey Sam, let’s go inside okay? We can get some coffee,” Dean’s voice betrayed no signs of the nerves surely sparking through him.
It was pleasant in Sam’s world. The morning sky was such a brilliant blue and if he could just stretch his fingers high enough he could touch. “Oh I would like to touch,” he murmured and grasped at the blue but it remained out of reach.
This did very little to comfort Dean and all worries about his damaged car fell by the wayside. “Okay Sam, talk to me, you’re okay.”
Brother. Brother. “Hmm honey,” Sam mumbled and dropped his hands because reaching up seemed to be getting him nowhere. “I would like a bike. Shall we take a ride? I prefer the morning,” Sam mused and the idea suddenly felt very important but he let the hand on his arm guide him indoors.
Almost instantly Sam was attracted to the colors of the room. Unpleasant and fairly disgusting. Sam desired to change them. But tapping on them seemed to do no good.
To Dean the image of his baby brother knocking on the walls was almost as unsettling as his words. In normal circumstances he would be turning to Sam, asking him what he made of the most recent event to upset the temporary calm of their lives. Since Sam had started sniffing along the puke green walls now, however, Dean doubted he would be of much help.
“I think I saw someone. A girl. I think she’s done something to you,” Dean spoke out loud though there was really no point.
“Hello,” Sam had been distracted by the words from the man and he was fairly sure he knew him but he couldn’t be one hundred percent positive about that fact. Walking across the tight curls of sandy brown carpet, Sam considered the man. Oh. Brother. Yes, Sam did know him. “Dean. Dean. DeanDean.”
It very easily could have been hilarious, if it wasn’t so terrifying. “Sam…” he whispered slowly and stared into bright blue eyes that shouldn’t belong to his brother, were far too bright, far too blue. “Stay right here. I’m gonna… I gotta… I’ll call Bobby okay? We’ll figure this out.”
Sam preferred the bright green of Dean’s eyes over the odd unpleasant color of the walls. “Oh… shiny,” his face lit up as his eyes landed on his reflection in the TV. Couple of sniffs and he inhaled dust. Coughed. “Stars are burning, we’re all burning.” Sam hummed and dropped down on the mattress.
Things were strange. Sam could hear voices and he spoke to them because it seemed only proper to acquaint himself.
“Well hello, are you enjoying your stay?” Sam was cheerful, smiling to let the voices know he wasn’t a threat.
You don’t belong here little boy.
“I don’t?” Something pink and fuzzy danced in the corner and Sam stood, joining it in a slow waltz along the carpet.
No. You’re far too dark for somewhere so pure.
Music played from the beams of sunlight coming in through the curtains and Sam hastily stepped toward them, pulling them apart so the melody could build. “I don’t want to be dark. Make me pure.”
We can’t. Can’t. Won’t. Never will be able to.
Lifting his hands to press against the dirty window, Sam leaned forward and peered up into the sky, wanting the blue to be bright enough to reach down and swallow him whole. “Who can? I want to be.” He insisted upon this for it seemed very important. As did the dancing pink thing so Sam rejoined it for a swing dance, spinning it around the room gracefully as the music picked up tempo.
Dean can. Dean will. Ask him.
Dean.
Sam knew that name. But he liked this dance so he continued until the music stopped, then bowed to show his appreciation. “I would like to dance with you once more pink fuzzy thing.”
You will. One day.
The pink fuzzy thing disappeared but that was okay because Sam’s attention had been drawn to the flickering lamp on the nightstand between two queen sized beds.
From the table, Dean stared in shock and fear and a wash of unpleasant realization.
“Dean? What the hell’s goin’ on?” Bobby grunted through the line, clearly displeased by the early hour he was woken.
“Bobby. Something’s wrong with Sam.” Dean’s voice was oddly detached as he watched Sam lift the lamp to caress it fondly. “Really wrong.”
“Well what are you waitin’ for? Get him here.”
The line disconnected but Dean kept the phone to his ear, watching Sam sing an unfamiliar lullaby to the pillow before tucking it carefully under the blankets and kissing it tenderly.
What We Always Are - And So it Is 03