Fic: Anchor - Supernatural
May. 28th, 2007 06:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katikatTitle: Anchor
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
katikat
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to the CW and Eric Kripke.
Genre: Gen, Sequel to "Larger Than Life"
Words: 1000
Warnings: None
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sam manages to keep it together for almost ten miles before the dam inside of him breaks.
Notes: A big thank-you goes to my wonderful betayami_tai!
Notes2: Heh, this is the sequel that I've never wanted to write - until I did :P Just a short scene set directly after "Larger Than Life".
Sam manages to keep it together for almost ten miles before the dam inside of him breaks. He shivers so hard that his teeth chatter and his vision goes dark around the edges. When he almost swerves off the road, he pulls over because it would be a real irony if he got Dean killed after he went to such lengths to retrieve his soul.
He turns the key in the ignition and the engine stills. His ragged breathing is suddenly too loud in the confines of the Impala. Sam leans forward, crossing his arms on the steering wheel and laying his forehead on them. A litany of Oh God, oh God, oh God runs around and around in his head. He is so filled with shame and horror that he doesn't even dare to look at his brother, sleeping in the passenger seat.
Sam trembles and his stomach rolls as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to think of what he has done, what he was willing to do. Such horror, such... fun!
He recoils at the thought and almost whimpers. But as much as he would like to, he can't deny the truth. His muscles spasm in the remembrance of the power that surged through them and he can still taste it in his mouth, it rolls over his tongue like the taste of a heady, sweet wine. All the power is still there, coiled in his guts like a snake basking in the sun of his abilities but ready to strike at any given moment.
And as much as Sam wants to hold back, he wants to let loose even more. Because that's who he is, that's who he is now. He wants to suck the life out of the living world, he wants to let the earth boil and sky burn... And all because he can and there is nobody to stop him. Sam tries to fight that part of him that desires all that, he tries to stuff it back into the Pandora’s box that opened when he returned back to life.
Sam remembers what Dean said once, almost two years ago... What's dead should stay dead...
His resurrection gave him power but robbed him of control...
And the power, it's so sweet... His thoughts run in circles, the two Sams inside of him playing tug-of-war with his body. To give in or not give in, to give in...
But the bad, the evil Sam, he has the snake of power on his side and when the beast uncoils, the good old Sammy, the geek boy who loved to play soccer, is pushed into the background, screaming. And the power spreads like the vines of an ugly but resilient weed through Sam's body and he feels his skin tingling, muscles relaxing in the unnatural warmth.
Sam lifts his head, eyes narrowed, and he looks at the empty road in front of the car, at the road that's now painted in hues of red. His heart beats faster though not with fear but with anticipation. He can feel the air tremble and hum with gathering power and he licks his lips to taste it. The radio flashes on and off, on and off, then it yowls a high pitched tone. The lamps outside flicker and the Impala groans, the windows making tiny cracking noises as a heavy pressure leans against them, the power wanting to explode and tear and shred... and kill just because it can.
But as the first crack appears in the driver's window, looking like a tiny spider web, and a low growl leaves Sam's throat... there is a feather-light pressure on his thigh.
Sam's head snaps around, eyes glowing black and red, seeking the person who dared to touch the one who might become a god...
The hand on Sam's thigh is pale, even to his eyes that see everything in hues of red. It's limp and it trembles slightly and Sam blinks because he doesn't remember who... what...
"Sammy..." The word is barely decipherable, said in a voice too hoarse and dry.
Sam raises his head slowly, his eyes following the hand to the arm, to the shoulder and up, to the too pale, almost snow-white face with hooded eyes that hold only a dim spark, underlined with deep shadows. The eyes are watching him but the wheezing breath that barely passes through those bloodless, cracked lips doesn't allow Dean - his Dean and only his - to speak.
Sam blinks and for a moment, the world stands still. Then Dean squeezes his thigh, the only part of his brother he can reach in his weakened state, the pressure barely there. But Sam, he feels like a vessel and the hand on his leg is a hole, a crack in his hull. The power inside starts swirling, faster and faster with every turn of the current, the tip of the whirlpool attached to his brother's hand... that's sucking him dry, the power flowing out, leaving him empty and trembling, his muscles spasm again and his head hurts...
And when it's all out, it explodes, taking the cracked window on Sam's side with it. The shards shoot outward and it's like a sonic boom for Sam's ears pop painfully. But he still hears Dean moan hoarsely as the wave of power passes over them to dissipate in the distance.
It's over. Sam is Sam once again and the snake in his gut curls up on itself tightly, giving the geek the evil eye.
He fixes his eyes on the road ahead of him. He doesn't dare to look at Dean because he is ashamed... not of the power, it's a part of him now, a part he can't cut out and cast away, but of the lack of control. He tries to think of what to say. Something lame would be enough, really. Anything to break the silence that has settled over the car like a blanket.
But before Sam can even open his mouth, Dean mumbles something. Something that sounds suspiciously like Dude, you're so payin' for m'car. And despite himself, Sam barks out a laugh, even if it's a little shaky around the edges. He turns to his brother but Dean is already asleep again, breathing deeply although still sounding too wheezy for Sam's comfort.
Sam smiles, squeezing the hand that's still lying limply on his thigh and whispers: "Thank you."
The End
Author:
katikatDisclaimer: All the characters belong to the CW and Eric Kripke.
Genre: Gen, Sequel to "Larger Than Life"
Words: 1000
Warnings: None
Characters: Sam, Dean
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sam manages to keep it together for almost ten miles before the dam inside of him breaks.
Notes: A big thank-you goes to my wonderful beta
yami_tai!Notes2: Heh, this is the sequel that I've never wanted to write - until I did :P Just a short scene set directly after "Larger Than Life".
Sam manages to keep it together for almost ten miles before the dam inside of him breaks. He shivers so hard that his teeth chatter and his vision goes dark around the edges. When he almost swerves off the road, he pulls over because it would be a real irony if he got Dean killed after he went to such lengths to retrieve his soul.
He turns the key in the ignition and the engine stills. His ragged breathing is suddenly too loud in the confines of the Impala. Sam leans forward, crossing his arms on the steering wheel and laying his forehead on them. A litany of Oh God, oh God, oh God runs around and around in his head. He is so filled with shame and horror that he doesn't even dare to look at his brother, sleeping in the passenger seat.
Sam trembles and his stomach rolls as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to think of what he has done, what he was willing to do. Such horror, such... fun!
He recoils at the thought and almost whimpers. But as much as he would like to, he can't deny the truth. His muscles spasm in the remembrance of the power that surged through them and he can still taste it in his mouth, it rolls over his tongue like the taste of a heady, sweet wine. All the power is still there, coiled in his guts like a snake basking in the sun of his abilities but ready to strike at any given moment.
And as much as Sam wants to hold back, he wants to let loose even more. Because that's who he is, that's who he is now. He wants to suck the life out of the living world, he wants to let the earth boil and sky burn... And all because he can and there is nobody to stop him. Sam tries to fight that part of him that desires all that, he tries to stuff it back into the Pandora’s box that opened when he returned back to life.
Sam remembers what Dean said once, almost two years ago... What's dead should stay dead...
His resurrection gave him power but robbed him of control...
And the power, it's so sweet... His thoughts run in circles, the two Sams inside of him playing tug-of-war with his body. To give in or not give in, to give in...
But the bad, the evil Sam, he has the snake of power on his side and when the beast uncoils, the good old Sammy, the geek boy who loved to play soccer, is pushed into the background, screaming. And the power spreads like the vines of an ugly but resilient weed through Sam's body and he feels his skin tingling, muscles relaxing in the unnatural warmth.
Sam lifts his head, eyes narrowed, and he looks at the empty road in front of the car, at the road that's now painted in hues of red. His heart beats faster though not with fear but with anticipation. He can feel the air tremble and hum with gathering power and he licks his lips to taste it. The radio flashes on and off, on and off, then it yowls a high pitched tone. The lamps outside flicker and the Impala groans, the windows making tiny cracking noises as a heavy pressure leans against them, the power wanting to explode and tear and shred... and kill just because it can.
But as the first crack appears in the driver's window, looking like a tiny spider web, and a low growl leaves Sam's throat... there is a feather-light pressure on his thigh.
Sam's head snaps around, eyes glowing black and red, seeking the person who dared to touch the one who might become a god...
The hand on Sam's thigh is pale, even to his eyes that see everything in hues of red. It's limp and it trembles slightly and Sam blinks because he doesn't remember who... what...
"Sammy..." The word is barely decipherable, said in a voice too hoarse and dry.
Sam raises his head slowly, his eyes following the hand to the arm, to the shoulder and up, to the too pale, almost snow-white face with hooded eyes that hold only a dim spark, underlined with deep shadows. The eyes are watching him but the wheezing breath that barely passes through those bloodless, cracked lips doesn't allow Dean - his Dean and only his - to speak.
Sam blinks and for a moment, the world stands still. Then Dean squeezes his thigh, the only part of his brother he can reach in his weakened state, the pressure barely there. But Sam, he feels like a vessel and the hand on his leg is a hole, a crack in his hull. The power inside starts swirling, faster and faster with every turn of the current, the tip of the whirlpool attached to his brother's hand... that's sucking him dry, the power flowing out, leaving him empty and trembling, his muscles spasm again and his head hurts...
And when it's all out, it explodes, taking the cracked window on Sam's side with it. The shards shoot outward and it's like a sonic boom for Sam's ears pop painfully. But he still hears Dean moan hoarsely as the wave of power passes over them to dissipate in the distance.
It's over. Sam is Sam once again and the snake in his gut curls up on itself tightly, giving the geek the evil eye.
He fixes his eyes on the road ahead of him. He doesn't dare to look at Dean because he is ashamed... not of the power, it's a part of him now, a part he can't cut out and cast away, but of the lack of control. He tries to think of what to say. Something lame would be enough, really. Anything to break the silence that has settled over the car like a blanket.
But before Sam can even open his mouth, Dean mumbles something. Something that sounds suspiciously like Dude, you're so payin' for m'car. And despite himself, Sam barks out a laugh, even if it's a little shaky around the edges. He turns to his brother but Dean is already asleep again, breathing deeply although still sounding too wheezy for Sam's comfort.
Sam smiles, squeezing the hand that's still lying limply on his thigh and whispers: "Thank you."
The End
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2007-05-28 05:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-28 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-28 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-28 08:22 pm (UTC)Great job! ^_^
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Date: 2007-05-29 04:49 am (UTC)Dean is Sam's lifeline.. he's the only thing that can keep Sam grounded. :)
**loves**
OMG
Date: 2007-05-29 11:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-30 02:53 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for your review! :)
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Date: 2007-05-30 02:54 pm (UTC)BTW - great icon!
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Date: 2007-05-30 02:55 pm (UTC)Re: OMG
Date: 2007-05-30 02:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-30 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-02 04:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-02 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-27 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-28 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-07 08:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-07 09:16 am (UTC)