Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likely_evil) wrote2008-09-10 03:47 pm
likely_evil) wrote2008-09-10 03:47 pm
for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
badcompany_muse: [031] Silence
(OOC: Warm Gun 'Verse. Prompt is from canon, and if it links to a Dean, then this Sammy's Dean = ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jstliketherifle.)
Sam doesn't remember much about dying. He doesn't remember much about anything these days. The come back to him in flashes, like fireflies appearing in the distance. You know they are there because you can see them. But they won't stay still and it's hard to catch one.
Sometimes when Sam leaves for awhile, he goes back to that spot. The spot he died. It's a ghost town, full of ghosts that watch him as he walks down the dusty streets. The hide in windows and doorways, almost as if they are afraid of him.
There is a girl who stands on the top of the water tower. Her neck is bent in a bad angle, and she sits there with her hands under her armpits.
I feel like I’m in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse.
In the window of a house that smells of salt, the bloodied face of a young man watches him. Sam can almost feel him reaching out, trying to touch his mind before he turns away to look at a dark haired woman in horror.
I’m still working through, “Demons are real”
The edge of town is covered in blood that only Sam can see. There are no birds here. No crickets. Just a single firefly that leads him until he almost trips over an iron bar. He stops, looking down at it as the firefly lands on it and lights up.
Only one of us is getting out of here. I’m sorry.
Sam fell to his knees, holding his head. There was pain. His head, stomach. he was hit and hurt. Each time he made this trip he felt it, remembering the sequence of injuries.
Sam!
The pain stopped and Sam lifted his head. There was no ghost there, but the sound of his name echoed through the town like a canon.
Dean.
His last word. And then there was a sharp pain and then his didn't feel anything but arms wrapping around him. He was safe in those arms. It was home.
Hey, look at me. It’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam! Hey, listen to me. We’re gonna patch you up, okay? You’re gonna be good as new. I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take you care of you. I’ve got you. That’s my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Sam? Sam! Sammy!
The firefly flew away from the iron rod as Sam blinked, looking around him. Not a sound. Silence. Death.
Until the screaming began.
jstliketherifle.)Sam doesn't remember much about dying. He doesn't remember much about anything these days. The come back to him in flashes, like fireflies appearing in the distance. You know they are there because you can see them. But they won't stay still and it's hard to catch one.
Sometimes when Sam leaves for awhile, he goes back to that spot. The spot he died. It's a ghost town, full of ghosts that watch him as he walks down the dusty streets. The hide in windows and doorways, almost as if they are afraid of him.
There is a girl who stands on the top of the water tower. Her neck is bent in a bad angle, and she sits there with her hands under her armpits.
I feel like I’m in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse.
In the window of a house that smells of salt, the bloodied face of a young man watches him. Sam can almost feel him reaching out, trying to touch his mind before he turns away to look at a dark haired woman in horror.
I’m still working through, “Demons are real”
The edge of town is covered in blood that only Sam can see. There are no birds here. No crickets. Just a single firefly that leads him until he almost trips over an iron bar. He stops, looking down at it as the firefly lands on it and lights up.
Only one of us is getting out of here. I’m sorry.
Sam fell to his knees, holding his head. There was pain. His head, stomach. he was hit and hurt. Each time he made this trip he felt it, remembering the sequence of injuries.
Sam!
The pain stopped and Sam lifted his head. There was no ghost there, but the sound of his name echoed through the town like a canon.
Dean.
His last word. And then there was a sharp pain and then his didn't feel anything but arms wrapping around him. He was safe in those arms. It was home.
Hey, look at me. It’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam! Hey, listen to me. We’re gonna patch you up, okay? You’re gonna be good as new. I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna take you care of you. I’ve got you. That’s my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Sam? Sam! Sammy!
The firefly flew away from the iron rod as Sam blinked, looking around him. Not a sound. Silence. Death.
Until the screaming began.