Sam breathes heavy, alone while Dean's on a food run.
Soon, the world's gonna end, and there's nothing he can do about it -- because most of it's his fault anyway. He blinks, breathes again, tries to think of something else, some other way than the one that keeps circling around his head like a shark.
He wonders if it would have made a difference if Cas and Gabriel hadn't died for them.
He tries to put that thought away, too, because those losses are too new and too raw for him -- and he knows that one of them needs to not be drowning in memories of angels.
And Dean shouldn't have to be that one out of the two of them -- after all, him and Cas...
There had been a Dean and Cas.
He hadn't known Gabriel for long enough to know if there could have been a Sam and Gabriel. There hadn't been, but there's a dark idea deep in his soul that thinks maybe there could have been.
He shakes his head, still trying to force the feeling out, stamp down on it the way he does the desire for blood.
Then there's a flutter of wings, familiar and vague, and he twists around.
There's a quiet half-smirk on a face he'd never thought he'd see again, and mirth mixed with worry in honey-colored eyes. He's lounging against the bedpost, looking as he had when they'd met last.
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timeasmymeasure
Title: Never Change Your Mind Once It's Made
Date: 2012-02-02 10:04 pm (UTC)Soon, the world's gonna end, and there's nothing he can do about it -- because most of it's his fault anyway. He blinks, breathes again, tries to think of something else, some other way than the one that keeps circling around his head like a shark.
He wonders if it would have made a difference if Cas and Gabriel hadn't died for them.
He tries to put that thought away, too, because those losses are too new and too raw for him -- and he knows that one of them needs to not be drowning in memories of angels.
And Dean shouldn't have to be that one out of the two of them -- after all, him and Cas...
There had been a Dean and Cas.
He hadn't known Gabriel for long enough to know if there could have been a Sam and Gabriel. There hadn't been, but there's a dark idea deep in his soul that thinks maybe there could have been.
He shakes his head, still trying to force the feeling out, stamp down on it the way he does the desire for blood.
Then there's a flutter of wings, familiar and vague, and he twists around.
There's a quiet half-smirk on a face he'd never thought he'd see again, and mirth mixed with worry in honey-colored eyes. He's lounging against the bedpost, looking as he had when they'd met last.
"Hey, Sammy."