• Mood: contemplative

Daily(ish) Drabble(ish) #7 - Sometimes, Sam/Dean, SPN.

First commenter on the day's drabble(ish) gets to provide pairing and prompt for the next one. You can choose from Spike/Xander, John/Rodney and Sam/Dean or choose one of them as a solo character. Give me a word, or mood, or something to think on and I'll see what I can do. I may expand the possible selection if this works and I actually get my mojo firing on all cylinders.</b> (Nobody gets two drabbles in a row. If you get one today, you don't get to have one tomorrow, even if your comment is up first.)

Author: darkhavens
Title: Sometimes
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Words: 258
Spoilers: References 'All Hell Breaks Loose', so if you haven't seen the S2 finale, be warned!
Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com. If you spot a typo, please feel free to tell me in comments. I want you to!
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: Non-graphic Wincest
Summary: Sometimes, Dean remembers what that yellow-eyed bastard said...
Notes: Written for angstpuppy who asked for Sam/Dean and gave the prompt 'humanity'.



Sometimes, when Sam does something decidedly un-Sammyish, Dean remembers what that yellow-eyed bastard said, just before their dad came out of nowhere and finished him off.

Sometimes, during a hunt, Sam seems to know which way the demon's going to come from or where it's hiding, when he really, really shouldn't. And he can't - or won't - say how he knows.

Sometimes, he'll take an immediate dislike to someone they're supposed to be helping. He'll hover silently in the background, tall and brooding, intimidating, casting dark shadows across the victim's face.

Sometimes, he'll slip away from Dean, only to return with things he shouldn't have been able to get hold of, information that he couldn't know. He denies he's got a handle on his... ability (abilities?), but Dean wonders.

The only times Dean doesn't wonder about Sam's continued humanity is when they're in bed and Sam is giving it up, open and honest, vocal and voracious.

When he's splayed across the bed, muscles tense and voice breaking, limbs shuddering with desire in reaction to Dean's touch - then Dean knows he's still Sammy, still real, still human, still his.

If, sometimes, he double-checks the color of Sam's eyes, he figures it's understandable after all the shit that's happened. And if Sam ever notices - and, God, Dean hopes he never does - Dean figures he’ll blame post-traumatic, post-resurrection stress disorder or something, and Sammy will flap and fuss and coddle him until Dean takes a swing, and then they'll be good again.

He can't bear to consider the alternative.