A/N: My first attempt at the 50-sentence word prompt thing. I know that some of these are terribly run-on; sorry about that. I sometimes have trouble being concise. I'm working on it. I think one of these sentences in particular is the most convoluted run-on I've written since I was 12 (I read a lot of classic literature back then, and was about as concise as Dickens in 'A Tale of Two Cities').
If by some odd chance someone gets inspired by one of these and wants to turn it into a fic, just ask. It's slightly possible (but somewhat improbable) that I might someday expand some of them into longer stories.
Spoilers: "Pilot", "Phantom Traveler" (vague), "Faith", "Route 666" (vague), "Devil's Trap", "Hunted", "Born Under a Bad Sign", "All Hell Breaks Loose" (both parts)
Warnings: Character death in some (okay, quite a few) sentences. Violence and blood (it's me writing, after all). General darkness. Implied torture and vague hints of...worse. Never any Wincest. No pairings.
A/N 2: Some of these sentences are connected; some aren't; some might or might not be. A few are episode-based; most are straight out of my twisted mind. A few are Wee!Chester but most aren't. Tense may change from sentence to sentence. Some are AU; all are pretty much Dean-centric. Maybe later I'll do 50 for Sam.
Dean never tells Sam about the time that he lay bleeding in the snow and called Sam's name for twenty minutes before remembering that Sam was off being normal.
Little Sammy's head only slipped underwater for a few seconds; he came up out of the bathtub crying and it was Dean who stopped breathing.
Dean's last thought before the werewolf ripped out his throat was that he was glad Sam had longer legs and could run faster than him.
Dean remembers that his mom had a voice like an angel, and it was the only music he ever liked better than mullet rock.
When Sam starts screaming, Dean runs so fast he's pretty sure his feet never touch the ground.
In a different world, Dean is killed by a wendigo when he's seventeen and Sam leads a demon army ten years later.
One night when he's drunk and remembering, John laughs and says that Mary couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but Dean still remembers her sounding like an angel.
By all rights, it should have been impossible for Dean to get up out of the bloody snow and walk a half-mile to the road so he could flag down a car.
Dean has always known he's going to die in a fire; he just hopes Sam doesn't have to see it.
If Mary had lived, Dean wouldn't have had to stand alone between John and Sam.
Dean was four when Sammy was placed into his arms, and it turned out he never could let go.
The Demon said two different things while wearing John's face, I'm proud of you and they don't need you—Dean wishes he didn't know which of them was true.
When he walks in, her first thought is God, he's gorgeous—but then she sees the coiled danger in his walk, recognizes rugged strength and tiger's grace, and she knows that this is a man she could fear.
"It's okay, Sammy," Dean says, "you're okay"; but he can still hear Sam's screams echoing and he doesn't stop shaking for hours.
"I'm sorry, but the medication isn't working—he's still babbling about ghosts and demons, and a little brother who doesn't exist."
"Sammy," Dean said, his pissed face flickering in and out, "why the hell didn't you burn me?"
Sam told him to hang on, that he'd pull him up, but Dean saw that Sam was sliding toward the edge...so he let go.
Dean looks thoughtfully at the shard protruding from his wrist and wonders how long it'll take him to bleed to death if he pulls it out.
Sam wants to cry the minute he steps over the bastard's body and sees Dean pale and shaking, tied up in the corner, but the tears don't come until he puts his arms around Dean and touches bones wearing nothing but skin.
In his head Dean knows Sam wasn't in control, but his heart can't seem to forget that it was Sam's hand that pulled the trigger.
Dean never really mentions it, but the fact that his father doesn't call back makes him wonder why he isn't worth saying goodbye to.
"He's kinda ugly," Dean observed, staring at his new baby brother, "but I like him anyway."
The poltergeist throws Dean through the window, and as he bursts through in an explosion of sparkling glass he thinks, This must be what it feels like to be a bird.
"Your brother was beautiful," the bastard says just before Sam shoots him in the head; "prettiest boy I ever caught."
Rising heat crawls over his skin like swarming bugs, sharp and prickly, and he watches his blood congeal on the pavement like drying glue, wondering if Sam will come back in time.
Dean goes out to a bar one night and just never comes back; it takes Sam nearly three weeks to find him.
On his way to the ground Dean thinks This is SO going to break something, but he never lands...at least not that he remembers.
Dean made the mistake of falling in love once, but he was never stupid enough to get married.
Dean sits on the ground for a long time, holding the child's body, and Sam can almost see the cracks spreading through his brother's soul.
"I'm a killer," Dean says, talking over the whimpers of one of the hunters who shot Sam, "and you took away the only person who could ever stop me."
"That was a water nymph," Sam explains, after dragging his dripping brother out of the water; "according to Greek mythology they had a thing for...um...kidnapping beautiful men."
Dean says that he has a bad feeling about this hunt; later Sam will wish desperately that he'd listened to his brother's instincts.
Dean prayed for Layla like he promised, but after she died, he only ever prayed twice more: once when he lunged forward to catch a falling (bleeding dying) Sam, and once more (though he knew it wouldn't save him) when he woke up in a prison made of bone and flesh and blood and fear.
"Sammy," Dean said, still coughing up water, "if you ever call me beautiful again I swear I'll kick your ass."
Sam's been tugging at his bonds and calling Dean's name for twenty minutes; he has almost reached panicked despair (oh God he's DEAD) when Dean finally stirs and Sam can't hold back a small sob of relief.
At first they thought it was just a concussion, but now the doctor's looking worried and asking whether Dean has a history of head injuries, and Sam almost gives a hysterical laugh even though it's not at all funny.
Even before he didn't find a pulse in his brother's neck, Sam knew—because nobody could lose that much blood and live.
If you can't save Sammy, you'll have to kill him—it's like training a German Shepherd its entire life to guard one person at all costs, and then expecting it to rip out that person's throat at a single command.
Dean was afraid of the dark from the moment his mom died; he channeled that fear into a life of killing the things that made the dark worth fearing.
Sam's on his knees cradling his brother's bleeding body, saying Don't leave me, please, Dean, don't leave me, but Dean's heart stutters to a stop anyway...and then something snaps in Sam's head, a switch flips, and the sky begins to burn.
Sam never says so, but sometimes the things Dean would do to protect him—they scare him, too.
Dean Winchester travels by airplane twice in his life: the second time the plane crashes, and Dean's last coherent thought is Dammit, Sammy, I TOLD you so!
Dean was out hunting a Wendigo, but it was a regular, run-of-the-mill wolf that got him instead; he killed the bitch and then collapsed, bleeding, into the snow.
When Sam turns, he doesn't give Dean the mercy of a quick death; leaves him bleeding and writhing on the ground and still Dean can't quite manage to hate his little brother.
Afterward, Dean tries hard not to remember, but when he sleeps his dreams are sweat and blood and dark and a voice whispering So beautiful.
For hundreds of years after, the nymph spoke wistfully of the most beautiful human she'd ever seen, the man who was snatched from her grasp at the last second—the one that got away.
Dean dies laughing the first real laugh that Sam has heard from him in ages; Sam makes an unexpected smart-ass remark that he won't even remember later, and Dean actually laughs out loud, and then the ghost puts a crowbar through his heart from behind and he's still almost laughing as he falls.
"I'm not sorry," Dean says quietly in the last few minutes before she comes to rip out his soul; "It was worth it."
When he first met Dean Winchester, Bobby remembers thinking that there was darkness running deep in the kid (and hell to pay if it ever got out); now he realizes (too late) that the darkness never left, it just hid behind Dean's lightning-bright smile until they took Sam away, and then it swallowed Dean whole.
Dean never does tell Sam why he hates rats so much, but sometimes he still dreams of being chained in a damp basement, of waking from blood loss-induced unconsciousness to find rats chewing on his feet.
Because I'm amazingly sweet and kind, here are the related sentences, in chronological order:
17) Pull or23) Fly