1 - 20 of 596 Bookmarks by ratlas
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Sam’s curled up tight in the backseat of a beat-up Dodge Charger, pale-faced and scratched to all hell and looking so fragile it wouldn’t be a surprise if so much as a gust of wind sent him crumbling into dust. But he’s also asleep, and that alone quashes any doubts Dean might have had about bringing him home.
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"Great," Dean says without enthusiasm, "can't wait. Listen, Bobby, are you sure you still want us to come? I don’t wanna get in your hair. We can just hole up somewhere a couple'a days and then head over when we aren't sick."
"Don't be dense," Bobby tells him. "I've already made up the spare room. And besides, I'm the one who sent you chasing after that nuckelavee. It's my fault you got bit, least I can do is give you a proper bed to sleep it off."
"Not your fault," Dean protests immediately, just like Bobby knew he would. "But hey, next time you want us to visit, just ask, old man."
The call ends. Bobby huffs. Damn kids. Figures they'd pick up on the real reason Bobby had tipped them off on a hunt so close by.
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What happened between the rescue and the chicken.
Series
- Part 1 of Season 12 codas
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A case too close to home triggers a resurgence of night terrors in Sam - but is that really all they are?
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"Castiel had never expected to find himself here of all places, in the panic room of Robert Singer’s home, watching over the boy king of hell as they waited. And waited."
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After Sam gets his soul back, but before he wakes up, Castiel stands vigil over the man he has come to view as a friend, and reflects on all that has brought them here. -
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A demon gets the drop on Sam. Dean worries.
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Hot tears pooled on his cheeks. The moisture was like a brand, pressing itself deeper, and deeper into his skin. He screamed and reached for the bedsheets as the room began closing in on him. His eyes were screwed shut as his hold on reality spiralled.
Sam couldn't remember the last time someone had simply held him. His heart ached at the thought.
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Something is wrong with Sam.
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“You sound like shit,” Dean said, crossing his arms. “You sick?”
“I’m fine,” Sam said, standing up and brushing past Dean towards the kitchen. “You want coffee?” he asked, trying valiantly to change the conversation. “I made extra.”
“Now I know you’re sick, because that was the lamest excuse for a subject change I’ve heard from you in a while,” Dean said, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him.
“I’m trying to offer you coffee,” Sam emphasized, avoiding Dean’s gaze as he poured him a cup.
“You’re trying to distract me,” Dean corrected, walking to Sam’s side again and eyeing him warily.
“I’m serious, Sam. You sick? Hurting?”
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Or, Sam wakes up with a fever at a rundown motel in the middle of nowhere, and Dean takes it upon himself to nurse his brother back to health.
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Rolling a window down cooled off some of Dean's rampant adrenaline and the classic rock station cleared his mind. Soon, they would get a lead on killing Michael. Soon, they’d be able to clear out all the extra hunters in their damn house—get them kickstarted, give them their own lives to lead. Soon, Jack would lose all those dark circles under his eyes and Cas would stop hovering around Dean like he was about to disappear and Sam would be able to walk on his own without looking like he was about to tip and Dean would finally feel alone in his skin without the things Michael did playing behind his eyes like a horror movie B-roll.
But before all that, it would just be Dean fixing up Sammy, same as it’d been since the day the kid could crawl. That was a job he could do in his sleep. Come hell, high water, or just a regular old nest of vamps, there was nothing he wouldn’t save Sam from.
Dean pressed harder on the gas, praying he wouldn’t be too late.
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or, sam's too busy being a leader to take care of himself. good thing dean's there to help him out.
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Dean’s feet are too slow, take too much time to put one after the other, and by the time he gets to the station door Sam has a loaded shotgun in his hands. It looks weightless.
The boy doesn’t hesitate. He had stopped hesitating with shots long, long ago, even before Jess. Dean had taught him well through all those years of training. Sam points it beneath his chin, fingertip curling around the trigger, and squeezes.
The animal in Dean’s chest lets out a howl so loud and broken he doesn’t realize it’s coming from his throat. He is running, running, and as always he is too late, too fucking late.
Or: A small exploration of Sam's experiences with blood (others and his own) and the fact that Lucifer won't let him die.
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By the time Sam wakes up, it's already too late.
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Sam is a freak. He knows that and, after everything that happened with Ruby and the demon blood, Dean finally does too. Not that they actually talk about it or anything. No, they wait around for Sam to be kidnapped and tortured before they do that.
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Mary Winchester has rescued her son. She’s just thirty years too late.
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The aftermath of Sam’s rescue from the British Men of Letters
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sam winchester was all too familiar with pain. physical, emotional, mental; somatic, visceral, and neuropathic. he knew what it felt like to have a concussion, to sit on a grimy motel floor while your older brother carefully sutured the flesh of your abdomen, to be shot at and kicked and punched.
but nothing could ever compare to the excruciating pain he experienced when he had a migraine.
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Sam is back from Hell and is one giant mess of sensory issues and hallucinations. The common cold is just not something he can easily deal with. Dean tries his best to help, because it’s Sam.
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- Part 1 of Frayed 'verse
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Dean is far too aware of the real consequences of crucifixion—and he’s far too aware of the fact that before he can rescue Sam, he has to beat the monsters.
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- Part 1 of Whumptober 2020
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For all his bravado and stalwart pretenses, a week after Dean, Cas, and - fuck, he's never going to get used to this - his mom rescue him from Toni’s basement, Sam still can't face the shower.
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It's the dead of winter in the middle of the Oregon wilderness when Sam lets go.
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In which the trials are very hard on Sam which is in turn very hard on Dean.