Invincible
Sam breathed deeply as the darkness grew closer, drawing fear and desperation out of his rapidly beating, thumping heart.
Luminous amber eyes beemed from the black corners of the musty scented cabin.
Sam roughly squeased his own hazel orbs tightly shut.
'Just go to sleep they're not there. Not really.
They weren't there before his words even touched the subject,' he tried to comfort himself but his heart was trapped in the cage that held the night.
Whispers of the lost and lonely spirits
wandering eternity alone. Until they forget who they really are, forget their past, forget themselves.
But for now they wander, crying for help, pleading for mercy, beg for a death that is unreachable for they will never truly be dead. Nothing that merciful.
And Sam can't help but pity them. Though he knew these particular whispers that rung through the halls was just the wind and the creeks and squauk of crow pecking at carrion, and rotting flesh was only the groans and complaints of the old house at the icy winds pounding at it's back.
He was still frightened.
Sam flicked open his eyes and glanced over at his slumbering brother.
The ink of the night marked half of Dean's blank countanance, painting it deathly pale.
The moon's light filtered through the curtains and into the room of shadows and terrors.
Then it once again became pitch black as the circle of light was blanketed by grey lumbering clouds.
A lone wolf's howl echoed eerily through the trees and fog, adding to the pile of fears atop his brain.
He burried deeper into the bed, whimpering and trying determinedly to keep his tears from leaking down his cheeks.
His efforts were quite useful but he was unable to capture the choked sob that escaped his nearly trembling lips.
The darkness prowled, danced, and sang arounf the room. It crawled and crept unseen into the corners like a cat stalking it's prey under the midnight stars.
Another sob broke the evil silence lacing around the room. The noise arrouse Dean from oblivion.
Gazing sleepily over at his little brother with profound concern scribbled all over his face he asked "Sammy, what's the matter?"
As he finished his question the wolf's lonely yowl pierced the cold stabbed the cold Winter air.
The cry brought understanding to Sam's big brother and lead Dean's agile frame to the scared boy's side.
Without sound he sat down on the soft mattress and reaching out a hand to Sam's dark, almost black in the night, mop of hair and ruffled it gently.
"Hey, why you crying tough guy? What's wrong?" Dean already knew but Sam's reaction was just as important as the comfort he so heartfully needed needed then.
How he reacted showed the depth and heaviness of the fear.
Sam's languor was his as well.
Sam just turned his had to the side, it bowed in shame, growing hot with embarassment.
Dean gazed at the younger boy through his long thick lashes.
Clouds lazily drifted from the front of the bright full moon, slicing the night with it's exquisite glow.
Sam sat up and looked to his brother through his long bangs. His hazel eyes were like light bulbs in the shady and damp wooden room.
"I couldn't sleep Dean," his baby brother mumured.
'Of course,' Dean thought. 'It hasn't been two weeks since Sam's discovery of what is really lurking in the shadows.
Dean enveloped the eight year old with his arms and pulled him into a warm hug.
"It's okay Sammy," he reasurred him.
The younger boy sighed "I know."
And Sam knew, he knew that he would be safe. As long as Dean was here he was protected. His big brother was his iron shield and nothing could ever kill nor make it past him.
Dean was invincible.
And finally feeling the safety he craved so Sam drifted off to sleep, slackening in his brother's embrace.