...you fool - Part 4 (just one)
Oct. 22nd, 2013 12:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexisjaneSo after all my bitching yesterday about wanting to do a set of five for the last of the Kiss fics prompted by this post on Pinterest, I'm posting this one all on it's lonesome.
It's too sad, I don't want to put it with the others. At least I'm hoping it's sad and not just stupid and melodramatic.
Warnings - End of Season 3 based but I'm watching Season 9 so who knows what might have slipped in there, NC-17 (?), angsty, Implied Wincest so if you don't like the sound of that, please read something else.
My house. My rules. My boys.
Words : 478
(Disclaimer; These are my words but all my base are belong to Kripke, Sera, Ben or whoever so don't sue me. It's just for fun)
Feedback is both feared and loved but I need it like...
I need a hug after watching this scene...everytime : ( x
"No!"
He could barely speak, the words coming involuntarily with his sobs as he stumbled towards his brother.
"No"
They rasped over his vocal chords, sore from screaming, screaming at Lilith to stop.
He slid a hand under Dean's bloody torso, the blood running through his fingers still warm but starting to thicken as it pooled beneath him, and pulled him into his arms for the last time.
"Dean!"
Pain wracked Sam's body, not from being crushed against the wall, held in Lilith's psychic vice.
It was the agony of the emptiness in Dean's eyes. He looked into them desperately searching for some flicker of life, of hope, of a chance that this wasn't happening, wasn't real.
But there was nothing.
And the nothing burnt low and bright like sulphur in the pit of his belly.
Because Dean had been the one that had occupied that space, his voice filling it with comfort and warmth, his touch sending it white hot pleasure or dull agonising longing. Whatever he decided Sam needed, he had given it.
And now he was gone, there was nothing but the void and every nerve-ending that touched it burnt with the grief of it.
Sam didn't even try to fight the tears. His skin felt pricked by a thousand needles and nausea swept over him. The nothing reached out and up, crushing his chest, searing at his shoulders and hips, ripping down his back. He felt like he too was being eaten alive.
The tears were a comfort. At least they felt normal.
Dean was heavy.
Oh god, Dean felt so heavy. It made no sense.
If something had left his body, surely he should feel lighter.
It was as if the opposite had happened. Like his soul was the air inside him, making him light, buoyant above the sinking depths of death and now it was gone, the spaces had filled with so much blood that it was overflowing from the ragged fissures that had ripped across his flesh.
Sam couldn't bear it.
His breath checked and hitched in his chest as the pain poured out of him.
Tears fell, mingling with the spots of blood on Dean's face. Sam lifted up his hand to wipe them away but froze, a strangled cry caught in his throat, when he saw his glistening scarlet fingers.
He threw back his head and the cry released itself and became howl.
Sam arched over, pressing his body down as he clasped Dean's up to him, his grasping fingers finding only lax, sticky flesh where his brother should be. His lips made their way to Dean's cooling forehead. He held his mouth there as he wept and rocked and screamed until Bobby found his mutilated boys, one wrapped like a shroud over the other.
His own tears being lost in theirs when he finally got the strength to pull them apart.
It's too sad, I don't want to put it with the others. At least I'm hoping it's sad and not just stupid and melodramatic.
Warnings - End of Season 3 based but I'm watching Season 9 so who knows what might have slipped in there, NC-17 (?), angsty, Implied Wincest so if you don't like the sound of that, please read something else.
My house. My rules. My boys.
Words : 478
(Disclaimer; These are my words but all my base are belong to Kripke, Sera, Ben or whoever so don't sue me. It's just for fun)
Feedback is both feared and loved but I need it like...
I need a hug after watching this scene...everytime : ( x
"No!"
He could barely speak, the words coming involuntarily with his sobs as he stumbled towards his brother.
"No"
They rasped over his vocal chords, sore from screaming, screaming at Lilith to stop.
He slid a hand under Dean's bloody torso, the blood running through his fingers still warm but starting to thicken as it pooled beneath him, and pulled him into his arms for the last time.
"Dean!"
Pain wracked Sam's body, not from being crushed against the wall, held in Lilith's psychic vice.
It was the agony of the emptiness in Dean's eyes. He looked into them desperately searching for some flicker of life, of hope, of a chance that this wasn't happening, wasn't real.
But there was nothing.
And the nothing burnt low and bright like sulphur in the pit of his belly.
Because Dean had been the one that had occupied that space, his voice filling it with comfort and warmth, his touch sending it white hot pleasure or dull agonising longing. Whatever he decided Sam needed, he had given it.
And now he was gone, there was nothing but the void and every nerve-ending that touched it burnt with the grief of it.
Sam didn't even try to fight the tears. His skin felt pricked by a thousand needles and nausea swept over him. The nothing reached out and up, crushing his chest, searing at his shoulders and hips, ripping down his back. He felt like he too was being eaten alive.
The tears were a comfort. At least they felt normal.
Dean was heavy.
Oh god, Dean felt so heavy. It made no sense.
If something had left his body, surely he should feel lighter.
It was as if the opposite had happened. Like his soul was the air inside him, making him light, buoyant above the sinking depths of death and now it was gone, the spaces had filled with so much blood that it was overflowing from the ragged fissures that had ripped across his flesh.
Sam couldn't bear it.
His breath checked and hitched in his chest as the pain poured out of him.
Tears fell, mingling with the spots of blood on Dean's face. Sam lifted up his hand to wipe them away but froze, a strangled cry caught in his throat, when he saw his glistening scarlet fingers.
He threw back his head and the cry released itself and became howl.
Sam arched over, pressing his body down as he clasped Dean's up to him, his grasping fingers finding only lax, sticky flesh where his brother should be. His lips made their way to Dean's cooling forehead. He held his mouth there as he wept and rocked and screamed until Bobby found his mutilated boys, one wrapped like a shroud over the other.
His own tears being lost in theirs when he finally got the strength to pull them apart.
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no subject
Date: 2013-10-22 08:11 pm (UTC)Brutal and beautiful. Such a great description of the crushing scene.
no subject
Date: 2013-10-22 08:25 pm (UTC)I really didn't want to write this but it wouldn't leave my head.
I hate watching this scene as Jared's grief just seems so real. He breaks my heart!
No more angst!...well, for a bit anyway : ) x