Sorry for not posting anything in a while, guys – my inspiration has just disappeared. Maybe it'll come back. In other news, I think I've found me a new fandom or two, which I may or may not be writing for.
Prompt: Nap. Set in season one, because I am still all in a mess over the S6 finale and whatnot.
Dean is sleeping.
Sam hasn't seen him sleep in a long time. His brother's face is smooth, his weary-too-tired eyes closed, and Sam is reminded of a little kid.
Dean stirs. "We leavin'—?" he starts to ask.
Sam shushes him. "No, we're not leaving yet."
Dean half-nods, mumbling something indecipherable. There's a long pause.
"You leavin' yet?"
Sam stiffens. He remembers Jess and Stanford and blood, wendigos and spirits and terror cold on his spine.
He looks at his brother. Dean definitely looks like a kid when he's sleeping.
"No," Sam says, after a while. "I'm not leaving yet."