So yeah sorry its been a while but ive had awful writers block. . damn the thing and ive been finding it really hard to write. . plus the fact ive been going crazy. So sorry for the shortness of this chapter and its official . this is no longer a oneshot. YAY!
Dean Winchester woke with a start and a gasp. He sat up in the cheap bed and looked around the darkened room. He was sweating almost furiously and his breathing was hitched, more like gasping. He sat still for almost a minute, trying to ignore the feeling of nausea creeping up on him. It dawned on him that maybe he should break for the bathroom. Pulling back the thin bedsheets he slowly crept from his bed and into the small bathroom, trying not to wake Sam in the process. He tripped over the edge of the carpet and he almost cussed out loud. Holding the words in, in fear that he would vomit over the carpet made him hurry the way to the toilet and as he bent over it, puking whatever he'd eaten that day into the filthy bowl he panicked. After he had finished he flushed the chain and cringed as the loud noise ran through the room. He prayed Sam wouldn't wake and luckily he didn't. Dean made his way over to the cracked sink and stared at his reflection. His skin was a mottled gray in the darkness and he could see the lines of worry creasing his forehead. His eyes were bloodshot and his lips were dry and cracked. He stared at his shocking appearance before turning from the mirror and running the cold water. He washed his hands under the faucet before splashing his face,trying to rid himself of any signs of distress. He suddenly remembered back to the nightmare and found he had gripped the sides of the sink in an effort to stay focused. His hands gripped tighter still as he remembered how real the whole thing had felt.
" This isn't happening. Not to me at least, thats Sam's area of expertise. Not mine."
His gripped tightened even more and now he feared that something would break, whether it be his fingers or the porcelain he wasn't sure . He looked back up to the mirror and found he looked worse than before. His mind flashed back to the dream and he became frustrated. His eyes welled up as he remembered every last detail, all the death. His Sam lying on the floor.
"Oh god not Sammy. God Dean what the hells the matter with you?"
Just seconds after thinking about how his father, his flesh and blood had acted a tear fell down his cheek, slowly followed by another.
"Pull yourself together man. This isn't you. It was just a one off."
He begged with himself to stop the behavior and wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand. He let his grip lessen on the sink and instantly clasped his fingers into a tight fist. He thought about punching the mirror or at least something but thought the noise might waken his younger brother.
"Dean?" He heard a voice cry out from the other room. Knowing Sam had just had another nightmare he raced into the room to comfort his brother,pushing his own thoughts out of his head. His only determination was to calm Sam down.
Sam had fell back asleep after a little reassurance from his older brother and now Dean was sat in his bed, his eyes drooping slightly. A precaution to the fact he was tired and would soon fall asleep. Even though he tried to fight it his eyelids closed and he slumped down, sleep succumbing him.