I love how you get everything. I know that's easy to say, but you get everything without me needing to say a single word. I'm glad there were still some moments left for you, after you saw the two minute preview last night. ♥ ♥ ♥
This? Is amazing and reminds me why I love to vid so damn much. Thank you for that.
Just a little something-something:misread_January 31 2007, 11:23:28 UTC
Everything seems pitch black, the only light the faint glow of yellow street lights, filtering in from outside the motel and giving Sam just enough light to make out the angles, shapes and corners of the room. There's a lump in his throat, and his hands clutch the pillow a little tighter, a little closer as he shifts, ending up on his side, knees drawn up to his chest. Pushing his face in the pillow, he takes a deep, shuddering breath, dust tickling his lungs.
It's not helping. The knowledge that he might have not any control over...this, what's happening to him, no matter how many people he saves, no matter how many times he looks in a window as he passes it by, convinces himself the black shimmer he thought he saw in his eyes is just that. A thought, mindtrick, illusion of his own twisted imagination. Every step he takes, or doesn't take, still brings him that much closer to what's bound to happen. It crashes down on him like a wave, the darkness making it seem more menacing, making it difficult to breathe, and suddenly, he feels
( ... )
Later, in daylight, it occurs to Dean to think that it’s odd how Sam can get up at the freaking crack of dawn and do his soulsearching ninja practices or what the hell ever it is one does at that ungodly hour, and Dean doesn’t so much as stir in his bed, but all it takes is that note in Sam’s voice, a whispered word, and he’s is torn out of sleep more effectively than by a gunshot
( ... )
Comments 6
This? Is amazing and reminds me why I love to vid so damn much. Thank you for that.
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It's not helping. The knowledge that he might have not any control over...this, what's happening to him, no matter how many people he saves, no matter how many times he looks in a window as he passes it by, convinces himself the black shimmer he thought he saw in his eyes is just that. A thought, mindtrick, illusion of his own twisted imagination. Every step he takes, or doesn't take, still brings him that much closer to what's bound to happen. It crashes down on him like a wave, the darkness making it seem more menacing, making it difficult to breathe, and suddenly, he feels ( ... )
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...
.
*ded*
Dean: *ded*
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