CURL
Bad times for Dean.
A precursor for my multi-chapter fic, Stalking Horse.
xxxxx
Cold.
Icy, bone-numbing, cold.
Dean cried out soundlessly as the black, icy waters closed over his head.
Soul-destroying, crushing cold.
Flailing despairingly, he thrashed toward the surface, but the kelpie dragged him further and further down.
He cried out soundlessly to a brother who could neither see nor hear him; the last of the precious air in his lungs spent.
Defeated, he went limp, allowed the burn in his chest to give way to a reflexive breath.
"Goodbye Sam, I'm sorry …"
xxxxx
Long arms curled around him, and pulled him up to the surface.
No longer cold.
Sam was here.
xxxxx
end