angelicalxcosmo:

_{“—Slow down there tiger.”}

        _{❝ …  —-} ❞ 

                     _{❝ —- sorry, what was that? ❞}

fractusxanimus:

            ❝ You’re not real. You can’t be. ❞

      as much as he didn’t want his own words to fall truth, they did. he saw what had happened to his brother, the day that was burned into his memory forever. he remembered each and every second before the earth enclosed itself again and the world fell silence allowing dean to sit in the pained quiet. but as his “brother“ approached, an unsettled step back was taken from him. he wanted to trust, he wanted to so bad but he couldn’t find himself to. he didn’t want to fall victim to his mind playing devious tricks on him if it was even that.

                                  ❝ — the pit… you jumped… ❞

           _{❝ what? dean, what are you talking about?}

                                                          _{—- it’s me, it’s just me. ❞}

    _{something was definitely not right here. sam’s stomach churned with fear, eying dean’s retreat warily. his nightmares had passed —- dean was getting better, hell no more than a scary memory. was he hallucinating? but they hadn’t done anything. dean had been fine a minute ago, fixated on pie and girls, and now he looked as if he’d seen - for lack of better words - a ghost.}

                   _{❝ hey, hey, why don’t we head back to the motel? you don’t  l o o k  so good. ❞}

+rexpuerilis

ilaughedicriedipukedinmymouth:

          ^{”Sam, you look so much younger than when I last saw you.”}

     ^{Seriously, that wasn’t just some sarcastic comment toward his age. The guy legitimately looked younger, and to Meg, that was definitely out of the ordinary. Still, her confusion was partially covered up by her usual attitude she kept with her,}

 

          ^{”You must’ve bought some expensive anti-aging cream.”}

      _{his head quirks to the side, eyes narrowing as he runs her face against the catalog in his memory. so far, no matches.}

                       _{❝ uh —- do i know you? ❞}

            _{she knows his name, but then a lot of people know the winchesters - the boy who           s t a r t e d  the apocalypse and the one who f i n i s h e d it - and he wouldn’t be surprised if she was just another demon.}

                                  _{but no, it’s like she knows him, really knows him, and the only demon sam has ever known was ruby (may she   r o t   wherever the hell that knife sent her).} 

fractusxanimus:

          ❝ You can’t be —- you can’t… ❞

     words were entirely incapable of being formed correctly. heavy hues once filled with sorrow were now veiled with disbelief and shock. he wanted to believe, so badly he wanted it to really be his brother before him, but his mind continues to return him to the scene that he watched with a heavy heart and tugging him back down to reality. but their reality wasn’t normal to others so something like this was always up to consideration as a possibility. how still left him clueless.

           _{❝ hey, hey, hey, dude —- s l o w   d o w n . ❞}

    _{sam raises his hand in a gesture of surrender, eyes wide with confusion. dean seems frightened, manic almost, and sam’s mind whirs and whirs but he can’t figure out why.  he crosses slowly over to dean, head cocked marginally to the side. he doesn’t understand why dean is so upset, but he h a t e s it, hates seeing dean like this. it reminds him of the nightmares he used to have, the way he would thrash and groan in his sleep, and his heart is weighed down by stone-footed guilt and iron-laden regret.}

                                       _{❝ you okay? ❞}

fractusxanimus:

          ❝ Sa—am? ❞

     this can’t be, facts told him
     it was impossible for the figure
     before him, taking form of a 
     haunting memory to even be
     in front of him.——————-
     he had really lost it this time.

                       _{❝ —- dean? ❞}

    _{his brow pulls up and together, knotting in confusion. something’s not right —- dean looks  s h a k e n , as if the ground has been tugged out from beneath his feet. sam holds himself still, hoping to steady the world that appears to be whirling underneath his big brother.}

                                              _{❝ you okay? ❞}

killersmurff:

                     It’s one in the morning.

        It’s one in the morning and she still smells soot if she breathes too deep and sometimes she just aches, no matter how many pain pills she takes and Dean flushed them all down the toilet 3 days ago because he said she’d been looking at them funny and the doctor at the free clinic said she shouldn’t be hurting anymore anyway. It was a complete miscarriage and she should be healed by now.

        But he’s overworked and they waited 5 hours to be seen so what does some doctor on his 2nd rotation in as many hours of sleep know anyway?

        It’s been 3 weeks since their past - Sam’s past, hers, it doesn’t matter, they both lied and that’s the long and short of it - reared it’s ugly head and really, Jessica could care less about their dumpy little apartment.

                               She just wants her baby. That’s all.

        But sleep is good too. Until Sam wakes her and her eyes are already burning when she blinks away. All she wants is to sleep. Being awake, without a demon to salt or a werewolf to slice up, it’s all too much to deal with.

        “…What?” Dean’s somewhere, Jess doesn’t know where, doesn’t really care but she does care that it’s 1am.

                “Sam, what are you talking about?”

         _{sam is used to pain. trouble follows the winchesters 
around like a lost puppy, resting its head on its paws and
waiting for the right moment to pounce. but although he
is not a stranger  to  pain,  he  still  feels  it  like  any  other.
it hurts the worst at times like these, when he’s alone with
his  grief  and  his  bed  and  he  doesn’t have to be strong
because jess has her pretty little head pillowed on her arm,
eyes slipped close in sleep.}

                          _{she’s so pretty when she wakes, shaking off sleep’s  greedy
                 fingers,  and  sam  is  hit  with  desire  burning  deep  in  his belly.
                 that’s  not  fair,  he  thinks,  because she will hate him for what he
                 has to say and she is scared and hurting and now, of all times, his
                 body decides to betray him.}

                                               _{❝ it’s not —- it’s just not safe here, jess. dean and i have to
                                      find whatever did this and stop it from doing it again. i can’t lose
                                      you, jess, i just can’t, okay?  ❞}

      _{he feels his throat burn and he looks away, picturing jess
in flames like his mother was, imagining coming back here to
an empty  home.  sam  swallows  hard  against  the  thoughts,
forcing  them back  down  into  the  pit  of  his  stomach,  and
gathers jess in his arms.}

                                                                                                                      _{❝ p l e a s e. ❞}       

                       _{jess. it is all his mind can really focus on at the moment.  jess  j e s s   jess   j e s s. sam buries his nose in her soft curls, inhaling the subtle scent of her shampoo and closing his eyes against the sudden onslaught of emotions the simple act brings.  if he’d only been there to protect her, if he’d only acted on the dream.} 

        _{if only, if only. that is the winchester curse, isn’t it? if only. if only i was stronger, if only i was there, if only god helped me. sam’s if only weighs down on his chest like an iron ball, crushing his chest slowly in toward his heart.}

                           _{he hates dean for bringing this upon him and hates himself for not seeing it. sam hates his father for raising them into this business and hates whatever the hell murdered the child in jessica’s stomach, hates them all with an intensity and a fear that he cannot shake.}

                                                       _{❝ —- jess. ❞}

                                                                               _{he says, simple and low, pushing stray blonde locks back off her forehead. overcome with desire and relief and pain, sam presses his mouth to hers, soft as he can manage with the churning in his stomach. she’s so  s o f t  , so delicate, and sam can’t lose her, he just can’t. not after all they’ve been through. he’d been lost for so long, carted around across america on a whim, and in jessica sam had finally found his home. this is the life he wants, plain and simple, and he won’t relinquish it even if satan himself tries to wrench it from his fingertips.}

                  _{❝ jess, you can’t stay here. you have to go home —- to wisconsin. ❞}

_verbotii:

                                slight fondness curls around dean’s small features, the heavy scent of petrichor clinging to the air as he digs his hands into his pockets and tries to fight back a small shiver. he supposes the rain was a good thing. a metaphor, perhaps, for new beginnings and idle conversation as the darkness around the edges slowly fades away into something more. he glances back into the windshield of the impala, malachite eyes searching for the broad shoulders of a sibling that could brighten his day even more.

                        a metaphor, he thinks, for the ability to renew a withering connection between shattered hearts and dreams — rain supposedly meant cleanliness and purity, and if there was one thing any son of winchester needed, it was a good metaphor.

         ❝Rise and shine, Sammy—❞

                                 calls he, loud enough to be heard through the window slightly cracked on the driver’s side. whether sam was actually asleep or not, he doesn’t know. dean just likes to be partially irritating.

            _{nights spent in the impala are both sam’s salvation and the bane of his existence. he clings to the feeling of freedom, the memories, the scent of worn leather. sometimes dean will park near a lake or a forest and sam will crack his window just a bit more and let the scent of calm and peace wind its way around that of gunpowder and sweat, cleansing him of his sins.}

                                            _{but sam is tall and the impala is small, so he wakes with a stiff neck, joints cracking and groaning like his late father’s. today, though, he finds only b l e s s i n g in the numbness of his tailbone, sees only s a l v a t i o n in the ridged imprints the leather has carved into his cheek. they’re signs, sam thinks —- markers of the start to his long journey of penance and redemption. dean has not cast him out like a pariah. dean t r u s t s him; dean believes in him. the hope swells in his chest, so childlike and innocent that he has to keep his eyes screwed shut against the onslaught of relief that builds and builds in his chest until it feels like he will burst open at the seams.}

                 _{still, he puts on a show, groaning and scrubbing at his eyelids with the heel of his hand. it takes more effort than usual to scrounge up an irritated glare in dean’s direction, because although    s  a  m  m  y    is young and childish and girly, ‘sammy’ is something that has not passed dean’s lips for far too long.}

                                                                           _{❝ —- what time is it? ❞} 

mexmienta:

       _{”You’ve got to be kidding me. That really can’t stay secret for long.” She may as well warn someone when their emotions are giving away their lies. It’s only polite.}

_{“You should probably handle it.”}

           _{sam is smart and sam is witty, but sam has   n o  c l u e   what she is trying to say. his brow furrows in puzzlement, drawing tight just above the scoop in his nose.}  

                                     _{❝ —- wait, wait, wait, slow down. handle  w h a t ?  ❞}