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Title - Last Stand
Is - SPN, Gen (Warning, character death)
For -![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hidden_easel
Prompt - Supernatural/Sam Winchester/ Dropping dead from "The Deal"
Disclaimer - Don't own, don't sue!
He found Sam at the crossroads.
The night was chill and the steam was still coming off his body. Dean put a hand up to his face and rubbed over his mouth. He was putting off approaching the prone form because until he actually looked at the slack face, this could quite possibly not be real.
Just some horrible nightmare.
“Hi Dean.”
Dean didn’t even bother turning. The voice was close, right by his shoulder, breath heating his ear but he didn’t turn. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from what was in front of him.
“You know it’s funny,” the demon continued, like Dean had acknowledged her presence. “I actually knew this would happen. Pretty much guaranteed two for the price of one. How could I resist?”
“I didn’t… the deal was as long as I didn’t…” Dean choked out. It had sounded so reasonable when Sam had explained it. How if he was the one to get Dean out of the deal then the demon couldn’t really do much. How she’d made it clear that if Dean tried to weasel out of the deal then he would be…
“Assent is participation in my book,” she said, one finger tracing the line of his jugular, making the skin chasing it break out in gooseflesh. “Maybe if he hadn’t clued you in then… well, but that’s neither here nor there is it.”
“Do you.. is he…?” Dean couldn’t bring himself to ask. Everything felt like it was shutting down inside, like if he stood in this place long enough, he would just be a shell, left behind cicada-like husk to blow away on the wind. In Hell, he wanted to ask. Is Sammy in hell?
The pause was telling. He heard her clear her throat before the smile was back in her voice. “Of course he-”
“He’s not!” Dean crowed, turning on her. He caught the expression she’d been wearing before she could mask it. Annoyance and low cunning. He grabbed her by the shoulders, gave her a hard shake because he didn’t have to worry about her being delicate. He was tempted to snap her neck just for the hell of it but what stopped him was the knowledge that the woman he was holding was a person under it all.
“Don’t be stupid!” she hissed. “Your brother’s burning just like you’re going to.”
“He’s not,” Dean denied, feeling victory shoot through him. There was grief on the tail of it, black and all consuming but he wasn’t letting it in, not just yet. Dean let go of the demon, stepping away. He finally approached Sam, seeing how he’d crumpled, one arm flung out. He looked just like he might have if Dean hadn’t been there to catch him the first time.
“He’s home,” Dean said, letting the tears come. “You can’t hurt him anymore. No one can.” Dean knelt by Sam’s side, resting a hand to the stilled chest. He had four hours left until his year was up and he was going to spend them right there.
Is - SPN, Gen (Warning, character death)
For -
hidden_easelPrompt - Supernatural/Sam Winchester/ Dropping dead from "The Deal"
Disclaimer - Don't own, don't sue!
He found Sam at the crossroads.
The night was chill and the steam was still coming off his body. Dean put a hand up to his face and rubbed over his mouth. He was putting off approaching the prone form because until he actually looked at the slack face, this could quite possibly not be real.
Just some horrible nightmare.
“Hi Dean.”
Dean didn’t even bother turning. The voice was close, right by his shoulder, breath heating his ear but he didn’t turn. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from what was in front of him.
“You know it’s funny,” the demon continued, like Dean had acknowledged her presence. “I actually knew this would happen. Pretty much guaranteed two for the price of one. How could I resist?”
“I didn’t… the deal was as long as I didn’t…” Dean choked out. It had sounded so reasonable when Sam had explained it. How if he was the one to get Dean out of the deal then the demon couldn’t really do much. How she’d made it clear that if Dean tried to weasel out of the deal then he would be…
“Assent is participation in my book,” she said, one finger tracing the line of his jugular, making the skin chasing it break out in gooseflesh. “Maybe if he hadn’t clued you in then… well, but that’s neither here nor there is it.”
“Do you.. is he…?” Dean couldn’t bring himself to ask. Everything felt like it was shutting down inside, like if he stood in this place long enough, he would just be a shell, left behind cicada-like husk to blow away on the wind. In Hell, he wanted to ask. Is Sammy in hell?
The pause was telling. He heard her clear her throat before the smile was back in her voice. “Of course he-”
“He’s not!” Dean crowed, turning on her. He caught the expression she’d been wearing before she could mask it. Annoyance and low cunning. He grabbed her by the shoulders, gave her a hard shake because he didn’t have to worry about her being delicate. He was tempted to snap her neck just for the hell of it but what stopped him was the knowledge that the woman he was holding was a person under it all.
“Don’t be stupid!” she hissed. “Your brother’s burning just like you’re going to.”
“He’s not,” Dean denied, feeling victory shoot through him. There was grief on the tail of it, black and all consuming but he wasn’t letting it in, not just yet. Dean let go of the demon, stepping away. He finally approached Sam, seeing how he’d crumpled, one arm flung out. He looked just like he might have if Dean hadn’t been there to catch him the first time.
“He’s home,” Dean said, letting the tears come. “You can’t hurt him anymore. No one can.” Dean knelt by Sam’s side, resting a hand to the stilled chest. He had four hours left until his year was up and he was going to spend them right there.