Author: X Academy
Summary: He remembered the sad, horrible stream of wetness on his brother's cheek as he stared in the mirror. Coda 2x17.
Warnings/Rating: T. A little language, a lotta angst.
Pairings: None. Wincest if you want to see it like that.
Dean Winchester – 27
Sam Winchester – 23
Author Notes: After I saw Heart, I got inspired to write this little oneshot. Seeing Sam cry like that, and the look on Dean's face as he watched him go kill Madison… ooh. That hit me where it hurts. :( So I wanted to write something, you know?
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of their characters. I just do this for fun. I need a life.
He remembered the sad, horrible stream of wetness on his brother's cheek as he stared in the mirror.
He remembered the cloudy, shell-shocked and just plain anguished look that reflected in his hazel eyes. He remembered how lightly they shone, filled with what looked like enlightenment, but was obviously pain and sorrow. Dean feared that the light would go out, no matter how horrible the nature of it was; he knew he didn't want that beautiful, naïve light to leave Sam's eyes, never to be silently cherished again.
He remembered the horrible, dull thud that echoed throughout the too white, too sterile bathroom of their decent motel room when Sam fell over, his legs too weak to support his body, which was likely being crushed under the weight of his depression. He remembered rushing to hold that solid, giant, dead-weight of a body in his arms, half-lying half-kneeling on the tile floor to cradle Sam's upper body in his arms. He remembered the desolate and utterly alone sobs that tore their way through Sam's throat and into the humid, stuffy air around them, remembered how he'd wanted to stop them, kiss and blow them all away for Sam, remembered how alone they made he himself feel.
He remembered how he realized that for the first time that Sam was truly feeling that cold, terrifying isolation he felt whenever he looked away from his brother for a second, or went out to grab a bite to eat, or turned his back to the window where he couldn't see anything save for the moon and the occasional blur in his vision. He remembered watching Sam futilely try to fight the tirade of emotions that had gripped him, try to ignore the broken dam and fail.
He remembered how morbidly humorous it was when he took Sam's huge hand and held it in his own, how Sam's gigantic paws dwarfed his own. He remembered that fleeting, rasping chuckle Sam let out when he pointed it out, remembered the thrill he felt deep inside upon relieving his brother's despair, if only for a moment.
He remembered the soft moans Sam had let escape as he dragged him into bed, his bed, because he knew he wasn't going to leave Sam alone with his nightmares tonight. He remembered the greasy but soft texture of his hair as he buried his long, loving fingers in its depths, stroking and cooing and telling him nonsensical shit, because he knew that's what seemed to make normal people feel better. He never really knew what really made Sam feel better, but always felt a surge of joy when he seemed to be pressing the right buttons. He remembered that it was 12:14 in the morning when the floodgates really opened, and Sam really started to sob and scream and weep into his shirt, shaking and twitching in a big, gloomy slump of a person. He remembered every word, every last one as Sam babbled and whined and complained and blamed, and blamed, and blamed, and cried and pleaded and everything else. He remembered Sam asking why it was that everything he ever needed or wanted always ended up out of his reach, or just plain destroyed.
He remembered how badly he wanted to slap Sam and tell him that he was what he needed and wanted, and that he'd always be wherever he needed him, but didn't do it because he didn't even know how true that was, and he didn't want to upset Sam.
He remembered the look of love and fear Sam had given him before he nodded off, to sleep and dream of nightmares, only to wake up hours later, screaming and crying, Dean was sure. He remembered how he'd smiled softly and held Sam against his body, trying to transfer all of his love and devotion for that boy through sheer bodily contact, remembered how Sam nodded softly as if he understood, then slowly went limp and unconscious.
More than all of that, Dean remembered how he'd kissed Sam's right temple because it was his favorite spot to kiss, no matter how rare or fleeting those kisses were, and murmured, partly to himself, partly to Sam, a lullaby.
I wrote this while listening to Silent Lucidity by Queensrÿche, which happens to be the song that was playing at the end of Heart. I'm kind of depressed after writing this. ^^;
Reviews are appreciated.
- X Academy