Summary: Rest for the Wicked.
Empathy by frostygossamer
Howling darkness. Sickening cries of crushed and bloody phantoms. Agonizing echoes of lost hopes. Black sirens of Hell flutter around Dean's tormented psyche as he lies on his bed exhausted, desperate to find rest. He curls up into himself, feeling the raw pain biting in the pit of his stomach. Too much, too cruel, too brutal for one pathetic human soul to bear, and he has borne it far too long.
Sam stares across at his brother's shivering outline each and every night. If only he could help his tortured sibling. If only he could carry some of his pain. "God, Dean, why can't you share some of this with me? You don't need to endure it alone. I'm here for you. Always", he thinks. Every damn time.
In his mind he bends his body around his brother's heart, protective, maternal. He pulls his knees up and twists his hands into a double fist, tight against his stomach, imagining that feeble but ever burning light nestled safely like a phoenix egg, fragile and beautiful, yearning to be reborn. He will keep it warm. He will nurture it. He will protect this dear thing from everyone, everything. Because this is all the love he has left and he'll never let it go, not again.
Alone Dean unravels, sleep finally fading the edges of his nightmares. Cool, calming, comforting sleep, deathlike and deep. He lets go all sense and falls into the bottomless pit of oblivion. Safe? Lost? Done?
Sam's knotted hands unfurl releasing the brittle butterfly of his compassion into the dawn light. Another day begins. Dean has gotten through the night once again.
The End
A/N: Something thoughtful this time. Please review.