#not bau

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Dash did a thing this morning

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A Long Night (Part 2)

Continued from here.

Original inspiration and dialogue used from this post.

Sam somehow managed to fall asleep in his dark little corner. It wasn’t an easy sleep, not in the less-than-comfortable ball he’d become. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the next thing he knew, an unfamiliar voice was calling for him right outside the door!

“Sam?” The kid didn’t recognize the deep and gravelly yet gentle voice he heard, but it sounded important and he figured he’d better answer.

“W-who are you?” Sam asked without budging an inch.

“I’m Castiel,” the man answered. “Uh, ‘Cas’,” he added, which Sam appreciated. He thought that was a kinda funny name.

“I’m a friend,” Cas assured. “A friend of both of you.”

Sam’s gaze, all perked up and brightened with curiosity, lowered back to the floor as Cas brought up Dean.

“You know, your brother has been looking for you,” Cas went on. Sam heard him shift, his shadow moving away from the crack he’d left in the door in his hurry, and the next time he heard Cas, he was a big to the side. “He’s been very worried.”

“I…” Sam tightened in his ball again, the words struggling to escape him. “I don’t wanna come out yet.”

“That’s alright,” said Cas gently. “Dean frightened you?”

Sam didn’t answer for a moment, still shaken from the unexpected display of violence from his big brother.

“Sam?” Cas tried again. It helped Sam relax. Cas wasn’t growing impatient with him or demanding an answer, just checking to make sure Sam was okay.

“He… he pushed me down. He was mad at me…” Sam admitted, his voice light as he told Cas what happened.

Sam heard Cas sigh. “I don’t think he was upset with you. The mark on his arm—it’s…magic.” It was clear that Cas was hesitant to explain this to a child. “Very bad magic.”

I knew it.

Cas was quiet as he continued. “I may not be much—but I’m still an angel. I will do my best to help.”

“You’re a angel?” A hint of curiosity leaked through Sam’s voice as he scooted forward and peeked out of his little cupboard. Sam regarded the man with disheveled black hair, a desperate hope in his big hazel eyes. “Can you fix Dean?”

Cas’ bright blue eyes softened at the sight of his cursed friend, so much smaller than he used to be, fluffy brown bangs partially shading his little face. “I am,” he answered. “And I’ll do what I can for him. And for you.”

Sam decided to believe Cas, finally coming out of hiding. He came to sit next to the angel, almost right up against his knee where the tan trench coat he wore fanned out.

“Can…can angels fix me, too?” Sam asked hesitantly, staring at the floor. “I think…there’s something bad in my skin…”

Sam hadn’t told anyone he felt that way, not even Dean. Something about Sam, something deep inside, felt very wrong. Ever since his big brother became a grown-up. Everything was different, even Sam.

“Can you fix me, to?” Sam urged Cas, his voice cracking a little as he choked up.

Then Cas put a hand on Sam’s little back, spreading warmth and comfort from its touch. They sat there like that for a minute, Sam feeling his tensions and worries melting away.

“There is nothing about you that needs to be fixed, Sam,” Cas insisted, his voice as gentle as it had been. “I’ve learned that much.”

Sam liked Cas. He was nice. Sam never met an angel before…although something in him wondered if he really was one, or if he was just saying that to make Sam feel better.

So that’s the end of my entry! The reason I’m concluding this here and not after the third part of this specific mini ark [here] is because I started writing it and realized that I didn’t feel like I was adding anything to it like I did in these two parts. I love the ending, definitely check it and the rest of @asksamstuff‘s works out, this was a ton of fun to write and I hope the contest goes well!

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A Long Night -- A Contest Entry for AskSamStuff

Whoa! Content on this blog! While it’s not my usual stories, and not even Doctor Who, it’s part one of a ficlet based on a special series of comics by @asksamstuff for their contest [x]. There’s two parts, and I’ll explain more about why in the next bit, but anyway!

Original inspiration and dialogue used is from this post.

~ Sam was cursed to revert back to his five-year-old self, with only the memories he had at that age. Dean’s taking care of him, but he can only hide his demons for so long… ~

Sam’s breath hiccupped as he shuffled down the dark hallways of the bunker toward Dean’s room. His big brother was always there for him, he’d know how to comfort Sam how the nightmare he’d just had.

He could never remember his dreams after he woke up, but they always left him with a bad feeling deep down. Sometimes he even woke up all hot, like he was in an oven. And he never knew why.

Dean would make it better. He always did.

The door was open a crack when Sam reached it, pushing it open the rest of the way with on tiny hand.

“Dean, I had a bad dream and I…” Sam’s whisper trailed off when he noticed the shadow. Dean wasn’t in bed at all. He was sitting on the floor, all hunched.

“Dean? Y’okay?” Sam padded further into the room as his eyes adjusted, noticing the tension in his big brother’s shoulders, the sweat dripping from his face, the shaking in his fist.

“D-Dean?” Sam tried again quietly, his concern mounting the longer he went without an answer.

“Sam,” said Dean in a strained voice. “It’s not… Go back to sleep.”

Sam was sad for his big brother. Dean tried to hide it, setting Sam up by the TV with his Power Rangers DVDs while he took a nap or went out for some air, but Sam could tell. Dean wasn’t alright all the time.

But that was okay, neither was Sam. The least he could do was show Dean he wasn’t alone

“Did- did you have a bad dream, too?” Sam ventured, tiptoeing closer. Dean’s shoulders bunched up even more and his left hand flew to grab the inside of his right elbow as the shaking in his fist got worse. None of this deterred Sam as he reached a little hand to rest on his big brother’s shoulder, lightly patting the soft black tee.

“It’s okay, Dean—“

“I SAID GO!”

In a flash, Dean’s elbow swung out and connected with Sam’s chest. He was shoved hard, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Silence.

~~

Everything fell silent as the brothers stared at each other, Dean in shock at what he’d just done to his de-aged little brother. Tears pricked at the corners of Sam’s eyes, and before Dean could stop him, apologize – something – the kid was off like a shot.

“Sam—Sammy, wait! Come back—shit!” Dean jumped to his feet and hurried down the darkened passages of the bunker after his little brother.

Dean searched and searched, turning on every light he could find and calling after Sam. “Sam… Sam, I’m sorry,” he lamented. And he truly was. He didn’t know what came over him…

A twinge in his right arm reminded him that that was a lie. Dean stubbornly ignored it.

“Where are you??”

Truth be told, Sam had no idea where he was. He ran and ran in the dark, finding the deepest corner he could nestle himself into. There he curled into a ball, trembling and cringing as Dean’s voice echoed through the halls.

“Sam… Please, I just…”

Sam could hear Dean calling, but this time he did not want to come out. When he squeezed his eyes shut, he could still see it… The tattoo on Dean’s arm. It looked like a funky number seven, but something about it felt bad to Sam. Somehow, he just knew it was what was making Dean act all out of sorts.

It was the only thing different about Dean, from what Sam knew.

“I didn’t mean to—,” Dean’s next plea was cut off by a muffled guitar riff, one of Dean’s favorite songs. His ringtone.

It stopped when Dean answered.

“Cas—Now’s not a good time. Where are you? …Sam? He’s… Uh…”

Sam barely registered Dean’s voice anymore, curling into a ball as his head spun with bad thoughts.