Disclaimer: None you know are belong to us.
This, besides being a landmark for breaking a promise, also
shall be the herald of a hiatus. I'll keep posting, just not daily,
at least for this week.
As for that promise...won't happen often.
Not saying this won't happen again, but at least it's not going to
happen often. ;)
Thank You, everyone who has glanced through these so far,
everyone who has commented, everyone who has favourited this or
placed these in their alerts.
I hope my replies have reached you,
or will, within a while. :)
Enjoy!
SHARDS, SHREDS, SCRAPS
"Life is But a
Dream"
by Sade Lyrate
Sam's seen Dean die.
He's witnessed his brother's demise in myriad ways, feared its closeness another multitude more.
Sometimes it's been weird, in a silly sort of way, like getting
throttled by an army of zombie Jell-Os.
Sometimes it's been
creepy, in a puke-your-guts-out sort of way, like getting flayed
alive by particularly nasty spirits.
Sometimes it's been
plausible, in a memory sort of way, like getting your brains blown
out.
Waking up has usually worked, the lingering touches of those
terrors banished once and for all when he's found Dean alive even if
not necessarily well close-by.
Or at least a phone call away.
They've had so many brushes with Death that, in a morbid way, Sam finds himself considering them to be on a first-name basis by now. They've always fooled Death, fled the reapers. They've always found loopholes, struck deals, hustled the Dark Angel with equal ease as everyone else they've ever come across.
So when it really happens, when Dean truly dies, Sam merely waits for the dream to end, denial dancing at the edges of his psyche.
It takes him a good while to realize there's no waking up from some dreams.