Comment fic: you are not gonna die tonight
Title: you are not gonna die tonight
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean. Gen.
Warnings: Swearing, major injury, head injury, unconcious!Sam.
Summary: Sam is not dying tonight. Not on Dean's watch.
Notes: Drabble. Orginally posted here for ohsam's comment fic meme, for the prompt: "Hello, Cruel World" missing scene: It takes a lot for the Winchesters to cave and call an ambulance for themselves. With his leg shattered and Sam unresponsive and bleeding from his ears, Dean didn't hesitate to make the call. But it still took a few minutes for the ambulance to get there, and in that few minutes, Dean didn't have much to do but panic and keep trying to get through to his barely-with-it, seizing little brother.
(View in LJ's light format.)
Dean lets the phone drop to the floor and grabs the front of Sam's shirt with one hand. "Sam? It's okay. It's okay. We're gonna be okay."
It's really fucking not okay. Hold it together. Keep breathing. Look after Sammy.
Dean pulls himself forward along the ground, grits his teeth at the feeling in his leg, but keeps going until he's close enough to see the sticky blood in his ears and the shallow, fast, fast, fast, intakes of breath. He brings a shaking palm up to rest gently over his head, and pulls it away with fresh, warm blood coating his palm. "Sam?" he chokes out, gently shaking him. "Can you wake up, Sam? Come on, little brother. Wake up for me."
The ambulance is taking too fucking long and Sam isn't waking up and there's blood, blood everywhere. His leg feels like it's shattered and Sam, Sam isn't okay. He's really not okay.
"I'm here, Sammy," he says, pressing a hand over Sam's chest. He groans and something hopeful soars in Dean's chest and he latches onto that sound with all he's got.
"That's it, that's it," he murmurs, gently shaking him. "Open your eyes for me."
The sirens are wailing in the distance now and for a small moment as they lay there in the darkness, Dean thinks it's going to be okay, everything's going to be fine because it can't not be, and he can't lose the only two people he has left all in one night.
"You can't die," Dean murmurs, clutching at Sam's shirt. "I'm not going to let you, you hear me?"
But now something is happening, and Sam is groaning, and he's shaking and there's still blood in his ears and he looks pale and everything is pointing to signs of everything being really fucking bad. He brings a hand up to rest on Sam's cheek, and pulls himself even closer, his leg protesting in searing, white-hot pain.
"You are not gonna die tonight, Sammy. Do not fucking let go."
He wants to cry out and his throat is constricting but he's got to be there, got to be the one Sam can lean on and rely on and trust to stay strong. He can see blue flashing lights as the ambulance approaches, and Dean grabs Sam's shaking hand and grips tight, and wishes there was something, anything, he could believe in to save Sam. All they've got is each other, and Sam is not dying tonight. Not on his watch.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Sam, Dean. Gen.
Warnings: Swearing, major injury, head injury, unconcious!Sam.
Summary: Sam is not dying tonight. Not on Dean's watch.
Notes: Drabble. Orginally posted here for ohsam's comment fic meme, for the prompt: "Hello, Cruel World" missing scene: It takes a lot for the Winchesters to cave and call an ambulance for themselves. With his leg shattered and Sam unresponsive and bleeding from his ears, Dean didn't hesitate to make the call. But it still took a few minutes for the ambulance to get there, and in that few minutes, Dean didn't have much to do but panic and keep trying to get through to his barely-with-it, seizing little brother.
(View in LJ's light format.)
Dean lets the phone drop to the floor and grabs the front of Sam's shirt with one hand. "Sam? It's okay. It's okay. We're gonna be okay."
It's really fucking not okay. Hold it together. Keep breathing. Look after Sammy.
Dean pulls himself forward along the ground, grits his teeth at the feeling in his leg, but keeps going until he's close enough to see the sticky blood in his ears and the shallow, fast, fast, fast, intakes of breath. He brings a shaking palm up to rest gently over his head, and pulls it away with fresh, warm blood coating his palm. "Sam?" he chokes out, gently shaking him. "Can you wake up, Sam? Come on, little brother. Wake up for me."
The ambulance is taking too fucking long and Sam isn't waking up and there's blood, blood everywhere. His leg feels like it's shattered and Sam, Sam isn't okay. He's really not okay.
"I'm here, Sammy," he says, pressing a hand over Sam's chest. He groans and something hopeful soars in Dean's chest and he latches onto that sound with all he's got.
"That's it, that's it," he murmurs, gently shaking him. "Open your eyes for me."
The sirens are wailing in the distance now and for a small moment as they lay there in the darkness, Dean thinks it's going to be okay, everything's going to be fine because it can't not be, and he can't lose the only two people he has left all in one night.
"You can't die," Dean murmurs, clutching at Sam's shirt. "I'm not going to let you, you hear me?"
But now something is happening, and Sam is groaning, and he's shaking and there's still blood in his ears and he looks pale and everything is pointing to signs of everything being really fucking bad. He brings a hand up to rest on Sam's cheek, and pulls himself even closer, his leg protesting in searing, white-hot pain.
"You are not gonna die tonight, Sammy. Do not fucking let go."
He wants to cry out and his throat is constricting but he's got to be there, got to be the one Sam can lean on and rely on and trust to stay strong. He can see blue flashing lights as the ambulance approaches, and Dean grabs Sam's shaking hand and grips tight, and wishes there was something, anything, he could believe in to save Sam. All they've got is each other, and Sam is not dying tonight. Not on his watch.