withimpunity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
withimpunity) wrote2008-12-11 03:41 am
withimpunity) wrote2008-12-11 03:41 am
Entry tags:
fic: beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
Title: Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
Pairing: Sam, Dean (sam/dean if you want it to be)
Rating: PG
Words: 202
Prompt: 0023 @![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
winchesters100
A/n: This is a longer version of the 100 word drabble I posted here at the comm.
Dean finds it when John's sleeping off the pain and the Vicodin from their recent hunting trip; it falls out of the tattered journal pages when Dean picks it up off the nightstand and starts flipping through the pages for Bobby's number; John might be too proud to ask for help, but Dean learned long ago where pride got you: a little left of fucking nowhere.
Dean pinches the plastic photograph between his thumb and forefinger and feels the walls he put up the second Sam left start to crumble, brick by brick. Its just a stupid picture; Sam's thirteenth birthday. His hair's too damn long and there's a pimple on his nose and blue icing dried in the corner of his mouth. He's looking up the camera through a curtain of jagged bangs. Happy birthday, Sammy. Say cheese, bitch.
Dean shuts the bathroom door and slides down the peeling wallpaper, crumbling the picture inside his fist, soaking his face with tears that burn his cheeks with loss and regret. When the walls finally completely break away, Dean's chest aches and heaves with the pain and a strangled sob forces its way out of his mouth.
I can't do this alone.
Yes you can.
I don't want to.
Pairing: Sam, Dean (sam/dean if you want it to be)
Rating: PG
Words: 202
Prompt: 0023 @
winchesters100A/n: This is a longer version of the 100 word drabble I posted here at the comm.
Dean finds it when John's sleeping off the pain and the Vicodin from their recent hunting trip; it falls out of the tattered journal pages when Dean picks it up off the nightstand and starts flipping through the pages for Bobby's number; John might be too proud to ask for help, but Dean learned long ago where pride got you: a little left of fucking nowhere.
Dean pinches the plastic photograph between his thumb and forefinger and feels the walls he put up the second Sam left start to crumble, brick by brick. Its just a stupid picture; Sam's thirteenth birthday. His hair's too damn long and there's a pimple on his nose and blue icing dried in the corner of his mouth. He's looking up the camera through a curtain of jagged bangs. Happy birthday, Sammy. Say cheese, bitch.
Dean shuts the bathroom door and slides down the peeling wallpaper, crumbling the picture inside his fist, soaking his face with tears that burn his cheeks with loss and regret. When the walls finally completely break away, Dean's chest aches and heaves with the pain and a strangled sob forces its way out of his mouth.
I can't do this alone.
Yes you can.
I don't want to.
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...
lol that sounds naughty.
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And the I can't do this alone... quote has always been one of my favorites from the series and I think it says alot about Dean.
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Oh! And this is the bitch of the bunch: I missed the first two goddamn episodes of Leverage! Stupid work! Have you seen 'em? Are they good? TELL ME!
Finally, if this meets your approval, I'm going to be posting one of the SPN drabbles I owe you on my journal tomorrow (way to celebrate the weekend, huh?) if you want to check it out. However, I also have these really cheap money/gift card cards from Hallmark (I bought 'em for a discount, but what's better than money? SPN angst!) and I could mail one of those with the drabble written on it instead.
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