Just a mini one since I don't know if I'll get a chance to post a full one tonigh. Hope it's ok. PLEASE tell me what you think!
XX
Through these fields of destruction.
Baptism of fire
I've witnessed all your suffering
As the battle raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brother in arms
-Brother in Arms, Dire Straits
His senses came back slowly. Much more slowly than usual. It took him a second to remember but when he did he prayed with all his heart that when he opened his eyes he'd back in the motel, safe and sound. He could almost hear the quiet clicking of his dad on the laptop and Sam's gently breathing beside him. But he knew it wasn't real. Gradually he forced himself to open his eyes. Hunter instincts kicking in he knew he was in deep shit and needed to figure out his position. He glanced down to see the familiar mop of brown hair resting in the crook of his neck and he petted it slowly, feeling the small comfort he got from it. His head was aching and he could hardly move. The pain was too much but he hung on. Lifting his brother's neck to see his ghost-white face he allowed himself to let out a soft whimper. My poor Sammy. The hazel eyes stared back at him, glazed and pain-ridden with fever. He could feel Sam's shallow breaths against his hand but the younger hunter didn't even attempt to move away from his brother's touch, he doubted if he could. "Hey there cripple. How's… the devil-dog scratches?" He croaked softly, continuing to stroke his brother's tear-stained cheeks, only barely clinging to ife. Winchesters… we can't just live and let die. He could feel his brother's life force slowly slipping away and knew he didn't have much time left. But then again, neither did he. A slow sense of calm began to creep over him as he kissed the top of his brother's shaggy head, the tears rolling down his cheeks. Winchesters don't cry, but for this one, I think I can make an exception.
"Dean…" the younger boy whispered.
"Yeah, Sammy?"
"I just…" he watched as his baby brother struggled to pull in enough air to speak. "Thanks. For… for everything." He looked at the dripping eyes of his brother and with his last remaining strength pulled him close. He could feel how close they were to the edge. In his gut he knew that the chances of them making it out of this were next to nothing. And even if they did… They had both stopped shivering hours ago and they could barely pull enough air to breath, let alone speak. He allowed the calm to wash over him, numbing him.
Tandia hadn't been into see them in while. How long had it been? Without a window or any other way to tell night from day he had no way of telling. They just drifted in and out. Barely speaking, not needing to. She had come in once to feed them. Forcing a single moldy piece of bread through the bars to Dean and he had passed it to Sam. She hadn't liked that. By then he wasn't taking in a word she said. Something about wanting him alive, not Sam. It didn't matter, he hadn't eaten it and she had gone away. If Sam wasn't getting anything, then neither was he. They were going down together.
"Anytime little bro. Hey at least… at least we're going out with a bang…right?" A small imitation of his patented dimples ghosted over his face.
"Demons and hellhounds… bleeding out in a cage… can't ask for much more than that." They both smiled silently, too tired to laugh. Too tired to do anything but hold their brother as close as their weak limbs would allow and sleep. "Night Dean."
"Night Sammy. Don't let the bed bugs bite."
And with that they drifted off. They didn't know if they were going to wake up, if they even could but they knew that if they did, they would do it together. Neither were leaving without the other.
XX
As always, I live for your criticism.