There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight [I wanna hold you high and steal your pain]
vigilante
Sam is sitting in a chair next to the bed where Dean’s body is lying. His hand is still tangled up in Dean’s fingers. Their joined hands are resting on Sam’s knee and Sam’s head is lolling back against the chair back. His head is still half in the battle, twisting the events, flip flopping them and trying to figure out how he could have changed anything at all. He’s got Ruby’s knife held loosely in his free hand and when someone sneaks up on him, its instinct to shove the knife back into the solid body behind him. It’s only after the knife hilt hits muscle that he realizes this isn’t the battle and he’s not fighting for anything anymore.
“OW”
The exclamation makes him look up to Ruby and the look of surprise and defeat on his face is pretty friggin’ pitiful. Confusion crosses his features as he pulls Ruby’s knife out of her thigh.
“Why aren’t you dead?”
“Because it’s MY knife you Shithead.”
Okay so she’s pissed and righteously so. He ruined a pair of her pants. He looks down at the blade, covered with her blood and back up at her, confusion still marring his features and Ruby would let him stab her all over again just to get something to replace that damn ‘you made roadkill of my puppy’ look he’s been wearing since Dean died.
“…retard,” Ruby mutters and starts back to her post by the door. “Next time I’ll bring a friggin’ fog horn.”
Sam is sitting in a chair next to the bed where Dean’s body is lying. His hand is still tangled up in Dean’s fingers. Their joined hands are resting on Sam’s knee and Sam’s head is lolling back against the chair back. His head is still half in the battle, twisting the events, flip flopping them and trying to figure out how he could have changed anything at all. He’s got Ruby’s knife held loosely in his free hand and when someone sneaks up on him, its instinct to shove the knife back into the solid body behind him. It’s only after the knife hilt hits muscle that he realizes this isn’t the battle and he’s not fighting for anything anymore.
“OW”
The exclamation makes him look up to Ruby and the look of surprise and defeat on his face is pretty friggin’ pitiful. Confusion crosses his features as he pulls Ruby’s knife out of her thigh.
“Why aren’t you dead?”
“Because it’s MY knife you Shithead.”
Okay so she’s pissed and righteously so. He ruined a pair of her pants. He looks down at the blade, covered with her blood and back up at her, confusion still marring his features and Ruby would let him stab her all over again just to get something to replace that damn ‘you made roadkill of my puppy’ look he’s been wearing since Dean died.
“…retard,” Ruby mutters and starts back to her post by the door. “Next time I’ll bring a friggin’ fog horn.”