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withimpunityPairing: Dean/Sam (vaguely)
Rating: R
Words: 721
Disclaimer: All your angsty puppies are belong to Kripke and Co.
A/n: this is totally random, I don't know what's going on here, its just a blip. bigfiction prompted me after a hunt, muddy and bloody and showers, and this is what resulted.
Dean hears the spray of warm water through the thin bathroom door, but nothing else; not the familiar squeak of feet moving across the bottom of the tub or the sound of shampoo bottles falling to the ground or razors clanking together. Only the sound of water falling, tapping like raindrops against the fiberglass, nothing more.
"Sam?" He calls out finally and waits, waits for Sam to yell at him, "Dude, could you give me some frickin' privacy?" but all he gets in reply is the soft sound of shitty water pressure and - wait. Dean twists the doorknob open, left unlocked because there's only one bathroom in this crap apartment, and yanks back the shower curtain. Sam's sitting there, completely naked, knees pulled up to his chest, the spray of the shower falling at his feet.
"Sam," Dean breathes out and kneels next to the tub. "Sammy." He takes Sam's face between two hands and turns it toward him, feeling his lungs tighten at the sight of Sam's tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes. "Talk to me, Sam."
"Blood," Sam murmurs, dropping his chin to the pink tinted water swirling down the drain. "Her blood. Your blood. Can't. I can't."
"Sammy," Dean says firmly, squeezing Sam's face between his hands. "Get a grip, dude. It's all right. Everything's all right."
"Not," Sam mutters, trying to pull his face away from under Dean's scrutiny, but Dean only wrenches it back up to look at him again. "Alway so much blood. Can't wash it off, Dean. Can't-"
"Shh," Dean says, pushing wet bangs out from in front of Sam's eyes, wiping salty tears off of his cheeks with the back of his hand. "It's gonna be okay."
Then Dean's pushing his boots off of his heels and pulling the t-shirt off over his head and Sam's still staring down at the swirl of blood and dirt and water as it escaped down the drain when Dean climbs in the tub with him.
Sam looks up at him looks like he's going to question him, but says nothing.
"Going to help," Dean explains and grabs the white cloth from the corner of the tub, holding it under the spray of water for a moment to wet it. Another tear rolls down Sam's cheek when Dean drags the cloth across his chest, wiping away a smearing of dried blood and red clay.
"I got you, Sammy," Dean murmurs, rinsing the cloth again before gently touching it to Sam's face, cleaning a deep wound on his right cheek, and Sam doesn't even wince; too numb to notice the pain.
"I don't know whose blood it is anymore," Sam says, staring at the side of the bathtub as Dean cleans off the mud caked on the other side of his face.
"Doesn't matter, Sammy," He replies quietly, dragging warm terrycloth across Sam's busted lip. "You're okay. S'all that matters to me."
"You're selfish," Sam whispers so quietly Dean thinks he might've imagined it, turning away from Dean's touch.
"That's probably true," Dean smiles, really smiles this time, puts his heart into it, then Sam leans forward and their lips brush for a second, a beat.
"You have to let me go, Dean," Sam whispers, the only reason Dean can hear him because Sam's lips are hovering right next to his ear, their chests pressed together. "It's over. You can't save me."
"I don't care," Dean says harshly, without hesitation, and Sam just nods. He's known it for a while, he just wanted to hear Dean say it. "You're my brother. It's my job to protect you, Sam. M'not worried about anything or anybody else. Understand?"
Sam nods again and closes his eyes as Dean wipes the blood and dirt and sin away from the rest of his body, feels the warmth of Dean's lingering touches and the brief sensation of Dean's lips against his skin. When Sam opens his eyes again the water in the tub runs clear and he is clean, on the outside anyway.
Later, he lets Dean fuck him inside out, lets him come in his mouth and swallows it down greedily, like he's starved for it. He's dirty again, but its okay. He's starting to understand that this is who he is; dirt and blood and sin. He'll never be clean again.
no subject
Date: 2008-02-22 07:33 am (UTC)