gavemea_45: (in pain)
[personal profile] gavemea_45
He'd gone down the hall to see what he could find out, and what he'd found had been a team of doctors and nurses trying to resuscitate Dean.

No--

And there wasn't a damn thing Sam could do but stand at the door watching his brother die right in front of him.

But then something had happened

...get back...

and Dean's heart had started beating again.

This time.

It'd been too close. Way too close.



He'd gone back to Milliways on a fast pass just to check, but there'd been no sign of Dean. It hadn't been a real surprise.

Sam's pretty sure he knows where Dean is right now.

It's quiet in the hospital room when he gets back from the gift shop. Sam's clutching a brown paper bag, and stands there for a second looking down at his brother.

Date: 2007-11-18 05:37 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (a-wounded eyes)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
"Good guess, college boy."

Dean's voice is a lot more tense than it was back in the bar.

"'Cause I am definitely not leaving my body again. There's something after me, dude."

He takes another couple steps forward.

Maybe--maybe this time Sammy's psychic shit will work.

Because somebody not-him has gotta know what's going on.

Date: 2007-11-18 05:50 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (a-you didn't just say that)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit






"I'm likin' Lilly's ridiculous pendant thing more and more."

Really, Sam. Isn't this kinda--lame?

Date: 2007-11-18 06:00 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (hospital hallway)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
Dean sighs.

Then, like every other time Sam's gotten a crazy-ass idea in his head, he follows his brother.

"You make fun of my spelling and I'll kill you."

Date: 2007-11-18 06:10 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (worse than a game of telephone)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
"Next you'll be paintin' your fingernails. Jesus."

The grumbling seems mostly for show, as Dean sits down across from Sam, reaching for the board.

"If this doesn't work, you are gonna feel so stupid."

But--

He can touch the little plastic pointer thing.

Huh. Go figure.

Then, making a face of utter disgust and embarrassment, Dean slides the thing to rest over the YES.

Date: 2007-11-18 06:42 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (a-wounded eyes)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
"I'll be damned."

Funny.

"Who woulda guessed."

He's looking at his brother instead of the board for a second.

"So--start asking me some questions, Sammy."

Date: 2007-11-18 06:48 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (worse than a game of telephone)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
"Yeah, man. I coulda wished gettin' back in my body was that easy."

He exhales sharply, squaring his shoulders before looking back down at the board.

"And that was a shitty question, dude. Guess it's up to me to get the ball rolling, huh?"

So. Okay.

First the pointer goes to 'H', then it goes to 'U', then it goes to--

Date: 2007-11-18 07:00 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (worse than a game of telephone)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
"No, I'm humping the undead. Jesus, Sam."

But Dean gamely moves the pointer back to YES.

Seems easier than bitching.

This letter by letter thing is a pain in the ass.

Date: 2007-11-18 07:42 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (worse than a game of telephone)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
Dean's eyebrows go up, even though he's still looking at the board.

At least for the next couple seconds.

"Steady there, Tiger. One question at a time."

Now would be a good time to hit Sam upside the head.

Date: 2007-11-18 07:51 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (worse than a game of telephone)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
Dean takes a deep breath, unconsciously mirroring Sam, then swallows.

This is the shit he doesn't want to talk about.

But Sam--Sammy's gotta know.

R

"I'm pretty sure the floaty spirit thing ain't killing these people, Sammy."

E

"I think it's just taking 'em."

A

"When their time's just up."

When they're dead.

Like Dean should be.

Fuck.

Date: 2007-11-18 08:01 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (worse than a game of telephone)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
Dean slides the pointer over to YES, the motion strong and swift.

He really wishes he didn't have to.

Then he looks up at Sam.

Because he can't not.

Date: 2007-11-18 08:10 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (a-straight calm)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
"Yeah. Tell me something I don't know, Sammy."

Dean's voice is tight, but the curve of his mouth is almost--

Resigned?

Almost.

"You can't kill death."

He's gonna try anyway. He can't just do nothing.

Date: 2007-11-19 03:37 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (a-straight calm)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
Dean nods, that same resigned smile still on his face.

Even if Sam can't see, Dean's not gonna--

He's just not that much of a wimp, okay?

"I'm screwed, Sammy."

Date: 2007-11-19 03:59 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (a-straight calm)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
Dean's laugh is soundless, and he shifts position to rest one arm on his upthrust knee.

"Yeah, Sam."

His voice is real quiet.

"Sure he will."

Pardon Dean if he's havin' a hard time believing that right now.

Date: 2007-11-19 04:13 am (UTC)
hopeitsworthit: (a-you know something)
From: [personal profile] hopeitsworthit
"Guess I'll be right here, then."

Especially if he wakes up.







Hey, it could happen.

Right?

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