SPN: 1x14 Coda
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storiesimakeupPost Date: February 8, 2006
Nightmare Coda
It's a dream.
Sam woke with one of those lucid moments that were all too rare in the middle of a nightmare. It's just a dream. The vivid picture of a bullet hole in the middle of Dean's forehead, blood spattered on the wall behind him. But Dean was right there, on the bed across from Sam, his chest visibly rising and falling as a testament to his good health.
"God." Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Then everything rushed back to him at once, the events of the past few days. The deaths he hadn't prevented, the one he almost didn't. The belated horror of it hit him like falling into a frozen lake, an icy shock to his system.
Sam curled onto his side, gulping for air. Short, shallow breaths, and he knew he was panicking, but he couldn't stop. Couldn't turn off the what ifs running through his mind. What if he hadn't gotten there in time? What if Dean had died?
I can't do this without him. I can't, I can't, god, what would I do?
"Hey." Dean's hand on his shoulder. Sam hadn't heard him get up. "Is it another vision?"
Sam shook his head, couldn’t talk yet.
The bed dipped under Dean's weight as he crawled in next to Sam. "I'm here."
Sam didn't even think to refuse the comfort. Not tonight. Not with the image of Dean's vacant stare still starkly vivid in his head. He curled against Dean's chest, and Dean's arms wrapped around him, solid and real.
Eventually, the shaking subsided, and Sam could draw a full breath again. He wrapped his arm around Dean's waist. "I'm scared," he finally admitted.
"I told you, you don't have to be," Dean whispered. "I'll protect you."
"And what about the day you need to be protected from me?" Because Sam knew. Knew it was a risk, didn't need psychic abilities to know it was Dean's unspoken fear.
Dean shook his head, and Sam could imagine his determined expression. "Never gonna happen, Sammy."
"How do you know?" Sam persisted. "How do you know that one day you're not going to have to--"
"Because I know, okay? I already told you, as long as I'm around, you've got nothing to worry about."
Sam nodded. "As long as you're around. That means you have to stay around, Dean."
Dean snorted. "What, you think I'm gonna leave you behind?"
"No." Sam pulled away and propped himself up so that he was looking down at Dean, because this was important. "I think you're going to do something dumb like, 'If you want to kill her, you'll have to go through me.' You could have been killed, Dean."
"But I wasn't."
"But you could have been."
"But I wasn't." Dean frowned. "What'd you want me to do, Sam? Just let him kill her?"
"Yes." Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. "She wasn't as saint. She may not have deserved to die, but she wasn't worth your life, either."
"Real nice, Sam."
"What would have been accomplished? If I hadn't gotten there, you'd be dead and so would she? What's the point in that, Dean?" Sam opened his eyes again. "I can't do this without you. I can't."
"Hey." Dean reached up and rested his hand on the back of Sam's neck, all solid warm comfort, and Sam lay back down again. "That's why I've got you to watch my back."
"Dean--"
"I'll be more careful. Okay?"
Sam nodded. "Okay."
"Now try and get some sleep."
Sam settled back against Dean's chest and closed his eyes, listened to the solid thump of Dean's heart. Dean would protect Sam as long as he was around. Sam would do whatever it took to keep Dean with him. Because they were in this together, and for the first time Sam started to believe that it was all they would need.
It's a dream.
Sam woke with one of those lucid moments that were all too rare in the middle of a nightmare. It's just a dream. The vivid picture of a bullet hole in the middle of Dean's forehead, blood spattered on the wall behind him. But Dean was right there, on the bed across from Sam, his chest visibly rising and falling as a testament to his good health.
"God." Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Then everything rushed back to him at once, the events of the past few days. The deaths he hadn't prevented, the one he almost didn't. The belated horror of it hit him like falling into a frozen lake, an icy shock to his system.
Sam curled onto his side, gulping for air. Short, shallow breaths, and he knew he was panicking, but he couldn't stop. Couldn't turn off the what ifs running through his mind. What if he hadn't gotten there in time? What if Dean had died?
I can't do this without him. I can't, I can't, god, what would I do?
"Hey." Dean's hand on his shoulder. Sam hadn't heard him get up. "Is it another vision?"
Sam shook his head, couldn’t talk yet.
The bed dipped under Dean's weight as he crawled in next to Sam. "I'm here."
Sam didn't even think to refuse the comfort. Not tonight. Not with the image of Dean's vacant stare still starkly vivid in his head. He curled against Dean's chest, and Dean's arms wrapped around him, solid and real.
Eventually, the shaking subsided, and Sam could draw a full breath again. He wrapped his arm around Dean's waist. "I'm scared," he finally admitted.
"I told you, you don't have to be," Dean whispered. "I'll protect you."
"And what about the day you need to be protected from me?" Because Sam knew. Knew it was a risk, didn't need psychic abilities to know it was Dean's unspoken fear.
Dean shook his head, and Sam could imagine his determined expression. "Never gonna happen, Sammy."
"How do you know?" Sam persisted. "How do you know that one day you're not going to have to--"
"Because I know, okay? I already told you, as long as I'm around, you've got nothing to worry about."
Sam nodded. "As long as you're around. That means you have to stay around, Dean."
Dean snorted. "What, you think I'm gonna leave you behind?"
"No." Sam pulled away and propped himself up so that he was looking down at Dean, because this was important. "I think you're going to do something dumb like, 'If you want to kill her, you'll have to go through me.' You could have been killed, Dean."
"But I wasn't."
"But you could have been."
"But I wasn't." Dean frowned. "What'd you want me to do, Sam? Just let him kill her?"
"Yes." Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. "She wasn't as saint. She may not have deserved to die, but she wasn't worth your life, either."
"Real nice, Sam."
"What would have been accomplished? If I hadn't gotten there, you'd be dead and so would she? What's the point in that, Dean?" Sam opened his eyes again. "I can't do this without you. I can't."
"Hey." Dean reached up and rested his hand on the back of Sam's neck, all solid warm comfort, and Sam lay back down again. "That's why I've got you to watch my back."
"Dean--"
"I'll be more careful. Okay?"
Sam nodded. "Okay."
"Now try and get some sleep."
Sam settled back against Dean's chest and closed his eyes, listened to the solid thump of Dean's heart. Dean would protect Sam as long as he was around. Sam would do whatever it took to keep Dean with him. Because they were in this together, and for the first time Sam started to believe that it was all they would need.
