Summary. . . . . . . . Dean's POV as he wakes from a dream.
Disclaimer. . . . . . . Not mine, Kripkies.
A.N. . . . . . Just a small drabble to get me past the writers block that has taken hold and is keeping the next chapter of Hidden hostage. I hope you like, catch you soon, and thanks as always for reading, Peanut x
I watch him as he sleeps, head buried into the coarse pillow, hair splayed across the white linen, face relaxed taking years off of him, making him look child like again, reminding me of times past when life was so much simpler, when he was still innocent and unawares of the powers that resided inside him; a part of me yearning to go back to that time again, wondering if there was any thing I could have done differently that would have prevented the outcome that has now surfaced. I wonder what I did wrong, what I forgot to do, that has changed him from the doe eyed innocent, constantly questioning child, into this man I no longer recognize, a man who if I didn't know him, I would hunt down and kill. I remember reassuring him once that I would do everything in my power to save him, that killing him would be something I could never do, but seeing him like this, this angry raging beast, I wonder if that promise was one to be broken?
What went so wrong? When did things get so bad? How can I fix this? These questions and more run rapid through my head day and night. I find myself, night after night, longing for the sleep that comes so easily to Sam these days, my body craving rest yet forever pushing it away whenever it tries to take me under, as dreams of smoldering heat mingle with dreams of a Sam so far gone, I know I can't save him; a Sam so far gone he doesn't recognize me anymore, his fist clenching, blocking off my airway, slowly killing me with a sick smile plastered across his face. I wake up before the darkness becomes complete, my eyes instinctively finding my brothers sleeping form, part of my happy he is still next to me, part of me fearful that he still is. I must have cried out, or maybe it's a new part of Sam's freaky powers, my brother's eyes slowly opening to rest on mine; my heart racing, a breath caught in my throat, as I wait in the dim light, cast from the neon signs outside, to see if it will be blue green orbs staring back at me so full of concern and love, or the black soulless depths that so haunt my dreams.
I release the stale air from my body and ignore his concerned questioning, as the blue green greet me, stating that "I'm fine Sam!" before rolling over to face the window, effectively building a wall and cutting off all other communication between us, something that seems to happen all to easily between us these days. I can feel his eyes boring into my back, the gaze almost burning as he tries to pick up any inkling of what is wrong, before he sighs dramatically and I can hear him also turn over on his own bed, so his own back is to me, both of us now sleeping in positions alien to us, a gulf wider than any ocean created.
I still can't sleep though, the dream still vivid in my mind. Not for the first time I wish our father were still here, my own confidence taking a battering as I pour doubts on my own abilities, and create this unbeatable figure who would be able to save Sam, my father a modern day superman. I feel sick inside as I'm reminded once again how one sided that deal turned out to be; dad would have been better off never having made it in the first place, and Sam, well Sam would have been safe.
A wetness trickles down my cheek, and I angrily brush at it, sick of the weakness that to me it portrays. I can't control myself anymore, can't seem to be able to fix that stoic mask into place as easily as I had once been able too, leaving myself open and vulnerable to attack, lucky that so far my insecurities have only shown when I'm alone, or at night. I choke back a sob, that has slowly been building, unwilling to let Sam know just how crushed I really am. I know he's awake, I can feel the worry and concern emanating from him, but I know without my blessing he will stay on his side and allow me to mope alone. I'm just not ready to share, I'm not sure I'll ever be; or if I am, that there will be anyone left to share with. I crush my eyes closed as salty wetness builds within them, and force my mind to think of better days, so that I can push the dream aside. I know I wont sleep again this night, but maybe, just maybe, I can find some hidden memory that will steel my resolve again, and the chasm will lessen, bringing two men back together, back to being brothers.