Sam's pretty sure he's being honest with himself when he says, "Dean, please, I cannot handle this shit right now." Because Sam's nose is bleeding, his vision is blurry, and he can't get his brother into the fucking car.
He got Dean out of the house okay, they hauled ass as soon as they saw what was hiding under St. Mary's altar. But halfway to Ruby's car, Dean just stopped and knelt down and quit. He's got one hand on his shoulder, the other on the gravel for balance. He might not be breathing so good, either.
"Dean!" Sam hisses, accidentally getting blood all over Dean's jacket. Fuck. "Come on, man. We cannot stay here. Dean."
"Did you get some silver?" Dean whisper-sings. His eyes are open, unblinking, like he's forgot to close them. "Did you get a little gold?"
Dean's not really home right now.
Sam fists a hand against his forehead, which feels like it's about to split open. "Okay. Okayokayokay." Hypnagogic regression. That's what it is. Sam's put a name on it now, and somewhere beyond the rebound migraine, his
( ... )
Wow, babe. So visceral and spot-on. Love young Sam mouthing the words but not saying them because he's too cool for that song, but drawing it out when Dean needs it. ♥ Beautiful little fic.
Thanks. But...do you love it enough to accept it in lieu of the beta-rewards ficlet I promised you, oh so many months ago? *hides* Say no if you want something else. Or just post another prompt here and I'll take it on.
I love this so much, you have no idea. I always, ALWAYS, think of Dean and Sam when I listen to this song. Which happens to be in heavy rotation on my iPod.
This was freaking incredible. So gorgeous and haunting, especially the feeling I got when I recognized the lyrics. I've never thought about that song applying to them, but I will from now on! Nothing could have made this more perfect; thank you...
He got Dean out of the house okay, they hauled ass as soon as they saw what was hiding under St. Mary's altar. But halfway to Ruby's car, Dean just stopped and knelt down and quit. He's got one hand on his shoulder, the other on the gravel for balance. He might not be breathing so good, either.
"Dean!" Sam hisses, accidentally getting blood all over Dean's jacket. Fuck. "Come on, man. We cannot stay here. Dean."
"Did you get some silver?" Dean whisper-sings. His eyes are open, unblinking, like he's forgot to close them. "Did you get a little gold?"
Dean's not really home right now.
Sam fists a hand against his forehead, which feels like it's about to split open. "Okay. Okayokayokay." Hypnagogic regression. That's what it is. Sam's put a name on it now, and somewhere beyond the rebound migraine, his ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
So sweet and lovely! Thank You!
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment