I don't own supernatural
I swear my computer has it out for me. It will hardly let me type in word . So progress with most of my fics has been stalled, but not haulted. Here's another random oneshot. I say random, because I normally can't write a oneshot to save my life.
I wrote this for a prompt on the "Oh Sam" comment community on Live Journal.
The prompt I chose was; Sam/Dean(doesn´t need to be Slash, can be Gen too). Because Sam is going crazy and he start to allucinate with Lucifer Killing Dean in front of him over and over and for some reason Sam cant stop feeling horrible about it, even when he knows that the demon is playing with his mind"
This is what popped into my head after reading that. Enjoy.
Dean's Gonna Make it all Better
Sam flinched as Dean was killed by a pin poking through just the right place. Lucifer wasn't quite as inventive as Gabriel, but he was close.
And then came the guilt. He didn't have any idea why his hallucination of Lucifer killing Dean would make him feel guilty, but it did.
Maybe it was because he could never save his big brother. He just had to watch Dean die over and over and over again.
Maybe it was because the last time something like this had happened, Dean was about to go to Hell for selling his soul. Because of Sam. Dean had to sell his soul because Sam didn't have the good sense to stay alive.
He was pretty sure there was something wrong with that logic, but he was way past the point of being able to figure out where it stopped making sense.
See, Lucifer had hit on the one torture that Sam couldn't take. He couldn't handle watching Dean keel over again and again and again and ag-
Oh God, he was hyperventilating.
Where was the real Dean? Where was his big brother? Where-
Oh God, oh God, oh God, he was pretty sure it wasn't a good thing that his vision was fading in and out like that.
Wasn't there a name for this kind of thing? A panic attack or something? That didn't sound good. In fact, it actually made Sam panic even more.
The door slamming open startled him for a second, and was almost enough to break the vision of Lucifer. Almost.
"Sam?" That was Dean's voice, wasn't it?
Sam couldn't be sure, but wouldn't have been able to answer even if he was. He was using all the available air to breath right now.
"Sam?" Dean called again. There was a note of panic in his voice this time, Sam noticed vaguely.
All he honestly wanted was for his big brother to come and make it all better again. Dean was good at doing that.
But Sam was really confused right now. Dean was dying about half a foot away from him, but another Dean was coming around the edge of the mattress Sam was hiding behind.
He had thought wedging himself in the corner between the bed farthest from the door and the wall would mostly keep him from seeing Lucifer and the now dead Dean. He should've known better. Lucifer had simply moved himself and the constantly dying Dean to a position where Sam had no choice but to see them. And Sam couldn't move because he had backed himself into a corner. He was such an idiot.
"Sam?" Dean's voice was more urgent now as he gently shook Sam's shoulder. "Come on, talk to me man," Dean coaxed. "What's going on?"
Sam tried to get a hold of his breathing enough to tell his big brother, but simply couldn't. Not when Lucifer was dissecting Dean's brain right next to the earnest looking Dean squatting in front of him.
"Ok, it's gonna be ok, baby brother," Dean murmured. The live one, that is; the dead one just looked kind of limp. "Breath with me here," Dean ordered softly. He grabbed Sam's hand and gently pried his fingers from the fist Sam had been unconsciously making.
Once he had Sam's fingers straight again, Dean placed Sam's hand against his own chest.
His heartbeat, his real live means he's a living person heartbeat, was slow and steady. It was calming. It always had been.
Dean used to do this when they were little and Sam had nightmares. It was something Lucifer and Michel had never bothered to imitate. It meant safety.
"Dean," Sam mumbled back as he fell into his brother. Lucifer and dead Dean vanished, the angel leaving Sam alone without pain being involved for the first time ever.
He fisted his hand again, in his big brother's shirt this time. He was shaking uncontrollably, but Dean was here now; he would make everything all better. He always did.
Sam's breathing slowed back to normal rates as he buried his head in Dean's shoulder.
"Shhh, it's gonna be ok, Sammy. I'm gonna make it all better," Dean was soothing. Sweet nothings were starting to make Sam sleepy by the time Dean hauled them both up and dropped them onto the bed right next to them.
That was familiar too. Dean never left Sam alone after nightmares. This wasn't a nightmare, but Sam didn't want to be alone, so he chose not to mention that.
Sam didn't know how Dean had managed to maneuver him, but they somehow ended up against the headboard with Sam's head on Dean's chest. Sam was pretty sure he hadn't helped with any of that. Huh, maybe Dean was stronger then Sam had thought. It had to have taken a lot of effort to move Sam like that.
He knew Dean would probably demand to know what all this was about tomorrow, but Sam couldn't bring himself to care. Not when Dean's hand was carding soothingly through his hair.
It didn't take long for Sam to drop off after that. After all, Lucifer was gone, and Dean was here. And his big brother was going to make everything alright again.
Yeah, it's really short. At least this one isn't depressing.