Supernatural 100 Drabble Challenge
Prompt Word: WILD
Word Count: I went a little crazy today and did a quadruple drabble so 400.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I'm sure enjoying just having a little fun with them.
THE CURIOUS INSTANCE OF DEAN IN THE NIGHTTIME
By: Vanessa Sgroi
Sam knew that wild-eyed look in Dean's eyes. Knew it all too well. A post-Hell, post-Purgatory nightmare thousand-yard stare mixed with frantic hyper-awareness and raw loathing. And he knew better than to hastily touch Dean when he was in this state. He approached but kept well out of striking distance.
"Dean? Dean, it's me...Sam." His voice was low, steady.
Dean's gaze shifted rapidly side to side, his breath stuttering.
"You're okay, Dean. It's safe. Put down the knife."
As expected, his brother lashed out wildly with the weapon.
"Dean, c'mon, man. Wake up." Words weren't working tonight. He stepped further into the strike zone. The deadly knife tip neared his chest. He shifted, sidestepped, and cautiously wrapped his fingers around Dean's wrist.
Dean growled, menacingly deep. His breath sawed roughly across his throat. Dean struggled against the hold.
Sam applied pressure to Dean's wrist until Dean's hand numbed and the knife dropped to the floor. At
the same time, he swept Dean's legs out from under him, holding on as he went down. That's when the struggling really began.
Dean was a wild man—bucking, scratching, and even biting. Desperate grunts escaped past his chapped lips.
"Dean! Stop before you hurt yourself." Now Sam was panting. He threw a leg over Dean's legs, pinned his arms over his head. Then he waited, cringing at the sounds coming from Dean's mouth.
It took a while this time before the tension in Dean's body suddenly melted away, and he went limp. Soon the trembling started. Sam backed off slowly until he was on his knees next to his brother. He pulled Dean up, anchoring him with hands on his shoulders.
"Been awhile since that happened, huh?" Dean all but whispered, his voice raspy.
"Yeah."
"Sorry." Dean's cheeks were pink beneath the sweat and tears.
"You know you don't need to apologize."
"Yeah. But I'm sorry anyway."
"You okay?"
"Mmm—yeah. No worse for wear, I guess." Dean spied the knife on the floor. He paled. "I...uh...I didn't cut you, did I?"
Sam shook his head. "Not a chance." Sam stood and helped Dean gain his feet, steadying him when he swayed. "You ready to go back to bed."
"Not really."
"Coffee it is then."
"You don't have to stay up with me, Sam."
Sam patted Dean's shoulder. "Yeah, I do."
FIN