#i am pacing in my cage like a rabid animal

[gothoevsky]

THEM… WAHHHH,

[catboydogma]

#15 for the confession prompts w/ codywan??

thank u red!! i got two 15s if u can believe it. also this took like two years to answer skdkekd BUT i hope u enjoy :)

things said prompt ask game

prompt: things you said with rage between your teeth

wc: 986

tags: established relationship, hurt / comfort, angst, post-kadavo, semi canon-compliant

pairing: cody / obi-wan

cross-posted to ao3

“If one more individual inquires after the state of my health, I shall be breaking something quite shortly.” Obi-Wan took a deep breath and braced his palms against the holotable. He ignored the steady ache of his ribs and the sting as his lip split—again—and tongued at the blood beading up from the wide cut. Everything seemed designed solely to vex him today: the harsh fluorescent lights lining the halls of the Venator, every ache and pain he carried, the stares piercing into him, even Cody’s solicitous presence hovering just too close—and yet not close enough.

“General,” Cody said, fingers flexing in and out. “Are you—”

“No,” Obi-Wan said shortly. His hands shook on the holotable under the projected terrain for this tenday’s campaign. “I am not doing very fucking well at all, Commander, thank you for your concern, but if we could kindly focus on—” Obi-Wan took a deep, shuddering breath, let it out, did it all over again. The stares were burning into him now, searing like electrowhips jolting against each vertebra all down his spine and—“If we could focus,” he said, curt again. “It would be much appreciated.”

The silence was worse than their questions. Obi-Wan thought, longing, of his quarters and the cot within, of pulling the thin blankets over his head and curling up in the warm and dark without the weight of what felt like every pair of eyes from here to the Outer Rim on him.

“Let’s take ten,” Cody said after a moment.

Obi-Wan’s rage was crimson and blinding. He turned in one swift movement to find Cody already there, shoulders squared against his ire. Obi-Wan had been an angry boy; he’d been an angry Padawan, for a number of years, and in the empty months following his Master’s death he’d felt hollow with rage. It had been tempered over years, or so he thought, but it all came roaring back at the bite of fear at his heels and he was an initiate once more, thirteen and terrified of a future he hadn’t foreseen himself.

“Perhaps, Commander, we might get further in our efforts if you did not countermand me at every step,” Obi-Wan hissed. His hands were folded into the sleeves of his robe, tucked together, nails digging so hard into the scarred skin between his knuckles that he could feel blood starting to bead to the surface.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody said, frank, cutting. “You shouldn’t have left the medbay.” His gaze didn’t sear Obi-Wan: it flayed him alive, right down the terrified, quivering core of him. Obi-Wan took a step back and hit the holotable, powered down as troopers started to trickle out of the room. He flinched hard enough to white out his vision for a moment, hit the side of the holotable with his fist. His bones cracked. The reinforce durasteel didn’t.

“I’ll do what I damn well please,” Obi-Wan snapped. The slavers had corralled them into cages on Kadavo. The stink of the mines had been inescapable. Obi-Wan had spent each night pacing like a rabid animal and nearly desperate to try the strength of his own teeth against the ray shields.

“That’s not what I mean,” Cody said. He took a step back. Obi-Wan took a step forward. Cody brushed two fingers against his shoulder—Obi-Wan shoved the touch away with the flat of his palm like he was deflecting a strike. When Cody reached forward again he hauled Obi-Wan to him, against him, crushing and grounding all at once. His Commander had left Obi-Wan a thousand openings to take, if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to.

“I want you here,” Cody said into his ear, fierce, like there had ever been any doubt.

Obi-Wan became aware that he was clutching Cody, half-stooping to crush his face against the side of Cody’s throat, shaking like a wet leaf.

“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” Cody told him, like he didn’t already know that. “But you’re here now, Obi-Wan. You’re not there anymore, and you can trust us to be with you. You can trust me to be with you. Every step of the way.”

There was a wet patch growing across the neck and shoulder of Cody’s body glove that Obi-Wan was contributing quite enthusiastically to, despite his utter chagrin. He tried to pull away, testing Cody’s grip halfheartedly, and Cody drew him back in even tighter.

“You’re going to strain something,” Cody murmured. “Getting so angry.”

“Sod off,” Obi-Wan mumbled into the junction between Cody’s throat and spaulder.

“You wouldn’t know what to do without me.” Cody rocked Obi-Wan from side to side for an awkward moment before giving it up and pressing an even more awkward kiss to the side of Obi-Wan’s temple, the top of his head, the shell of his ear.

“I wouldn’t,” Obi-Wan said mournfully. The anger drained out of him, leaving only the fear and cold and pain. “I wasn’t joking, you know. If someone else asks me how I’m doing—”

“You already broke something, sweetheart,” Cody said, cradling Obi-Wan’s hand between the two of them like a wounded bird. “Your wrist, at the very least. Let’s get you to Howl, yeah, and get you some rest.”

“The campaign,” Obi-Wan said, twisting in Cody’s hold to pull his datapad to hand. “We can’t just—”

“We’ll hold it in the medbay,” Cody said, like this wasn’t the most horrifying thing Obi-Wan had ever heard.

“You can be the one to take it up with Howl, then.” Obi-Wan wrapped an arm over Cody’s shoulders and sighed as Cody supported his weight, aching knees and stinging back easing for a moment. The anger would return, he knew; likely in the night when he was least prepared for it. But he would have Cody, and Cody would have him, and together they would make it through the tide.

[tanzrielle]

Xerxes paced back and forth in the bar that had since been abandoned by those he had met with earlier. He paced like a caged, bloodthirsty animal waiting to swipe through the bars at the next thing that moved.

He was livid.

He needed to do something.

No.

He needed to wait. But he knew the kinds of things Victoria must be feeling right now. Maybe even worse. To be tortured and....’Rehabilitated’ by your own family, people you love, must hurt worse than any wound.

And it angered him. He was ordered not to act on his own. To wait.

It made him sick.

All it took to reduce him to a screaming, weeping mess was a week. A week at a Twilight camp that was then burned down. He was not the same person he was when first captured.

He feared the same would happen to Victoria.

Remembering the things he went through brought a feeling of sickness over him. The feeling brought him back to reality and he finally took a seat at the bar. Soft footsteps approaching from behind made him seethe anew.

He recognized Aliverre’s footsteps. And he knew what was coming, too. A lecture. A look of disappointment. He heard him stop at the table behind him. The silence that followed was deafening.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while.” Xerxes said, choking down his aggression.

“Same to you.” Aliverre said, sitting at the table.

Aliverre looked tired. His hair, usually nicely kept, was a disaster and his robes were stained with dried blood. He looked over at Xerxes with mild irritation. “Heard you got promoted. Congratulations.” He said.

“Thanks.” Xerxes replied flatly.

That’s right, he was an Overseer now. He had....Authority. Responsibility. The weight of his decision to accept the rank made him feel sick with anxiety. He needed to shape up now. He couldn’t keep acting the way he was.

But how was he supposed to just sit here and let this all happen? He told those men, the ones Victoria brought with her, to stay in one piece. One of them mentioned a wife. How was he supposed to sit here and do nothing? They were all dead now.

He gripped the edge of the stone counter and didn’t stop applying force until he heard the stone crack.

Something dark was rising inside of him again. Deep, burning hatred. A hatred that fueled the sha that still resided within him. He hadn’t been able to get it out. Maybe he was afraid to take it out. Surely it would manifest into a gruesome, powerful monster at this point.

“I’m going to cut to the chase.” Aliverre said, looking at him directly. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m going to tell you to calm down.” He added sharply.

“How the fuck do you know what I’m thinking? You weren’t even there. Where have you been, anyways?” Xerxes snapped, turning to look at him. “Sure coulda used a healer of your skill tonight.” He hissed with the tilt of his head. Aliverre always jabbed at him like this, so he figured he should return the favor.

The look that Aliverre gave him....Almost didn’t fit on his face. It almost looked like it belonged on his own instead. It was dark, angry, and sharp.

“I’ve been on Kul’tiras and Zandalar, helping the war effort. I’m still a member of the Alliance military, you know. Can’t exactly shirk those duties.” Aliverre responded flatly.

“Oh, so wasting your time.” Xerxes replied. He held back a smirk as he saw Aliverre’s eye twitch. It felt so good to get under his skin for once.

“I’ve saved plenty of lives. I don’t consider that wasted time.”

“Yeah, but you’re like....Never around. Would anyone miss you if you never came back?”

Xerxes let himself smile softly as Aliverre rose from his seat and walked over to him. His auburn haired counterpart gripped the back of his chair.

“Yeah. I know at least one person would miss me if I died. And for them, I keep fighting.” Aliverre said. “You? What even are your goals, Xerxes? My goal is to save lives. Is yours to become a monster?”

A gray mist escaped Xerxes’ mouth as he stood from his chair to look Aliverre in the eyes. Almost...Instinctively, his hand wrapped around Aliverre’s throat. Aliverre didn’t move. He continued glaring straight into Xerxes’ eyes.

“It’s kind of funny how we’re the same person, yet nothing alike. If anything, you’re the embodiment of everything I ever feared I’d become.” Aliverre said. “Do you like being such an erratic lunatic?”

“Do you like being an inch away from dying?” Xerxes hissed. “You’re a mockery of everything I’ve become.”

“Good. Then I’ll mock you until you realize what a childish, violent, hate fueled, void addled lunatic you are and pull yourself together. YOU are the only one impressed with yourself. Nobody takes you seriously because you act like an idiot ALL THE TIME.” Aliverre snapped.

“Careful, you’re so delicate I might accidentally crush your windpipe.”

“I’ll say it as many times as I want. You are a childish, violent, hate fueled, void addled lunatic. You have yet to prove me wrong. Let’s not leave out impulsive, either. I came here because I KNEW you’d try to do something reckless after that mission.”

“Yeah, and? Why do you care?”

“Because I don’t want you to be the next threat the Collective has to kill because you got caught and broke.”

Something else snapped inside Xerxes. It made him grip Aliverre even tighter, visibly unsettling the priest. He grabbed Xerxes’ wrist.

“I will not BREAK. Even with all I’ve been through, I haven’t broken. I’m still me. I am unbreakable.” Xerxes growled.

“That’s a lie and you know it. You are who you are because you BROKE.”

“I DIDN’T BREAK.”

“YES YOU DID! IF YOU DIDN’T BREAK, YOU WOULDN’T BE LIKE THIS. YOU’D BE MORE AT PEACE WITH YOURSELF, XERXES.”

“I’M PERFECTLY AT PEACE WITH MYSELF.” Xerxes roared, tightening his grip and making Aliverre struggle to break free.

“Y-you broke...A-and that’s alright...! Nobody is  unbreakable, Xerxes....” Aliverre managed, digging his nails into Xerxes’ skin. “ Y-you just need a little help...”

“I don’t need help. ESPECIALLY from you.” Xerxes growled.

“Y-you do need help...B-before somebody breaks you again because you think you’re unbreakable.” Aliverre whispered.

Xerxes growled and shoved him away. Aliverre stumbled back, landing on his rear and gripping his throat, gasping for air.

“I didn’t break. No matter how much torture and torment I have been through, I didn’t break. I just chose a more offensive path to walk because I was tired of being HURT.”

“And how far have you come?” Aliverre said.

“Far enough to be able to dish out the same pain that was done to me.”

“Mentally.”

Xerxes remained quiet, unsure of how to answer. Of course he’d grown mentally. Right?

“ You’re the same as you were back then, just angrier and full of hatred. If I took those two emotions away, you’d be just like you used to be.” Aliverre said, sitting up.straight.

“You’re wrong.” Xerxes snapped.

“I don’t think so.”

Xerxes growled. In another movement that almost felt....Not his own, he stepped forward and kicked his leg high, nailing Aliverre in the face and breaking his nose. Aliverre yelped in pain as he scooted backwards, gripping his nose.

Xerxes only stared. He didn’t mean to do that, did he?

“See what I mean?” Aliverre said. “Angry, hate filled and impulsive.”

Xerxes only continued to stare. He couldn’t reply.  Aliverre was exactly right. He reached a hand out tentatively, only for it to be harshly smacked away.

“Don’t touch me.” Aliverre hissed as a gentle golden light filled in the hand on his nose.“You’re becoming like an animal, Xerxes. A rabid animal.”

Xerxes didn’t respond still. He only hastily made his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Aliverre asked as he healed his nose.

“Somewhere private. Maybe...Maybe I need....to reset.” Xerxes said, racing down the hall.

Aliverre frowned. Well, that didn’t sound good. He wondered if he should chase after him. Perhaps not, he knew it would just end the same way it always did. He continued to sit on the floor, mulling over the things he had said.

Xerxes really brought the worst out of him, didn’t he?

[happywitch416]

Chapter 20

Rhena and Muriel gazed out over the vast frozen plain. The ground was hard beneath their feet and it spread endlessly and unbroken into the horizon. "The Shining Steppe. This is where I was born."

Rhena still shivered beneath the layers she was wearing under Nadia's cloak. Morga had already given her derisive opinion of her delicate sensibilities. Rhena couldn't be bothered to care. "It's beautiful." He gave her an arched look at that and she shrugged self consciously drawing the cloak tighter about her. "I am cold, not blind." A little huff of laughter left them both. "Is it like you remembered?" She asked softly.

Muriel was quiet for a long moment. "Flashes here and there, nothing specific. Probably for the best."

She studied him thoughtfully. "Do you have any good memories?"

"Good memories?" She nodded and frowning he stared out at the tundra. Inanna startled him as she headbutted his hand. "Yes, meeting you wasn't a terrible memory, Inanna." She stared up at him very pointedly. It made Rhena's nose twitch as she watched them. "I guess it's happy. Sort of." 

"Would you tell me?"

He shifted. "I'm not really good at telling stories." Inanna woofed and he sighed leaning down to scratch her ears. "I was still a gladiator, I told you Lucio had me perform executions." His voice grew an edge. "Sometimes he'd get bored, throw me in there with rabid animals to shake things up." Rhena felt her heart in her throat, knowing what he was going to say next. "That day, he put me in the arena with Inanna."

She looked at them, a bemused smile forming. Inanna looked very pleased. "I am assuming he didn't get what he wanted." 

He shook his head. "No."

Inanna woofed. "I didn't forget, I just didn't say it." She woofed again. "She says Lucio caught her when she attacked his army as it marched through the forest. Anyway." He said with a look to Inanna when she made a whuffling sound. "When they opened her cage, she was starving. Her fur dirty. I expected her to attack me but she just sat there." A small smile appeared. "Lucio was furious. Docile wolves don't make for good entertainment." Inanna licked his hand, tail thumping. "And I knew I couldn't do it anymore." He continued a little quickly. "She was innocent. She hadn't done anything except defend her home from invaders. Everyone else I had faced were criminals. And they fought back. But not her. She looked me in the eyes and waited. So I took my axe and broke down the gates keeping us in the arena and we ran." 

"Both of you."

"Both of us. I could have left, I could have walked out on my own whenever I wanted. But I didn't until her." A tired sigh moved his shoulders. "I thought she'd leave when we got to the forest. Instead, she stayed. Still hasn't left." At the last sentence he smiled, wide and genuine before pressing his forehead to Inanna’s. "Without her I'd still be in that arena." He looked up, flushing across every inch of skin she could see. "Story's over. Let's get moving." Rhena gently scratched under Inanna’s chin as she watched him head out over the tundra.

Chapter 21

"Make sure he comes back in one piece." Rhena heard Morga say softly as Rhena went into the darkness after Muriel, summoning a ball of light as she went. Morga was hard on them, true, but she had grown to like the woman too. Morga reminded her of her Anassa and Nana. A wolf howl led her to the stream, and the figure huddled next to it. 

Inanna paced before him but he looked up as the light reached them. His eyes were red and her heart ached. "Go away." She reached out gently, he looked so small under the vast sky. He jerked away from her. "Don’t." She nodded and dropped to the ground before him and waited, for as long as he needed her to.  She gently toyed with her medallion, her fingers occasionally brushed the charm next to it.  Finally, he spoke. "I don't want to hurt you." 

"I know." She said softly.

"Do you? How can you?"

"You told me you wouldn't." She was calm, sure of her words and hands falling still in her lap as her head fell to one side to watch him. 

"It doesn't matter what I say. My hands are stained with blood. You don't." His breath caught in his throat. "You don't just forget that. People don't just change." The tears that had formed in his eyes slipped down his cheeks. "This is who I am." 

Rhena shook her head. "No." She met his shocked gaze, her eyes steady and bright with their sunshine glow. "I trust you, Muriel." 

"I don't trust myself."

 "I can prove it." She took his hands squeezing gently when he tried to pull away and he stilled. 

"How? By fighting? I know how that goes! You." He choked out. "Bloody at my feet like everyone else." Rhena's heart ached at the pain in his eyes, the fear. "You have to let me leave. You're too important to hurt." 

He tried to pull away but Rhena was faster with her knees under her. Her lips met his for a brief moment. He stopped trying to escape, his hands hovering awkwardly. "What are you doing." 

Rhena gave a short huff of embarrassed laughter as she pulled away a little, hand still wrapped in the front of his cloak. "Not a great job at kissing you apparently."

He stared at her, a million things rushing through his mind and across his face. "Why."

"I." She floundered, flushing and letting go of him. "I don't want you to leave." 

"So you kissed me."

Rhena fell back to sit on her heels again, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. "Yes?"

"Okay." He said with a slight nod, still sitting still and not trying to get away. "It was." Rhena perked up a little as he struggled to find the words. 

After a moment, she gave him a shy smile, her eyes sparkling. "Should I try again?" She chewed the inside of her lip as his face turned into a kaleidoscope of red.

"It wouldn't be." He spluttered. "I mean." A mumbled stream of words left his mouth so fast she didn't catch it. At her quizzical look, he said it again. "It wouldn't be the worst thing."

She leaned up a little on her knees again, giving him time to escape if he wanted, her one hand steadying herself against his bicep. He stared out over her shoulder and she smiled a little before brushing her lips against his. He leaned forward, nose gently bumping hers as he softly kissed her back, his hands gentle at her back and waist, holding her like she was priceless. 

Rhena pulled away for breath, eyes fluttering open as the sky began to glow with light, ribbons dancing across the sky in a thousand colors. Muriel looked upwards and watched them. She had heard of the southern lights, but none of the descriptions had done them justice. How the colors were so bright even as they shifted, like an endless song dancing through the stars. Her gaze kept returning to him. She knew he was the same Muriel, but he wasn't either. Her eyes roved his face and shoulders before it hit her with a spark of happiness. "The chains are gone." Her voice was quiet and filled with wonder. 

He started, checking his wrists and finding them gone before his hands went to his throat. The collar was gone too. Rhena leaned back, searching but they were lying on the ground beside them. "I don't understand."

Rhena reached out, fingers gently running along the scars on his wrists. "They were from the Coliseum." 

"Yes. To remind me." He picked them up, studied them a moment before hurling them as hard as he could into the darkness. He watched where they went for a moment before turning back to Rhena, lacing his fingers with hers. "Thank you." 

 "I didn't do anything." She shook her head with a soft smile.

"No, you." He took a deep breath. "You did. All I've ever done is run away. I don’t. I don’t know how to do anything else. But you." He met her eyes before staring down at their hands, both of them twined together now. "You came and you wouldn’t let me. You expected more from me." He looked a little ashamed as he continued. "Even when I was mean. Even when I tried to drive you away." He flushed. "And you are patient. You give me time to talk, even when I'm not good at it." 

"I'm not always great at it." She fidgeted, thumbs brushing against his knuckles. "It's hard sometimes." 

"You're better than me." 

She gave him a bright little smile. "We can get better together then."

"I'd like that." He looked away then, truly away. "Sorry for running off." 

"Morga would drive the forest to the end of their patience." She said tartly. He stood and pulled her up, keeping her close to him. "I'm glad you are coming back to camp." He smiled a little at that but it turned to a scowl with her next words. "She's going to keep at it about the sparring."

He sighed. "Nothing sharp, hand to hand only."

Rhena's eyes rounded and a shaky laugh left her. "I don't know how. If they got that close my training was run away before they get that close."

"I'll show you." He leaned down towards her when a sound from the stream interrupted them. Water was bubbling rapidly and spreading out to form a smooth surface. "Rhena?"

"Not me." She said softly and called small stones to her as she edged to the stream. She peered into the smooth surface and the rocks thudded to the ground. "Asra?!"

Asra and Nadia peered up at her, a third figure coming into view. Julian waved with a chuckle. "Fancy seeing you there, Rhena."

A moment of silence was followed by everyone speaking at once, Nadia worried when the horses arrived without them, Asra asked a thousand questions, Julian a thousand more. Finally they fell into silence again and it was Muriel who spoke. "We're alive. Are the horses okay?" Rhena nodded anxiously beside him. The smelly things had grown on her. 

Asra laughed. "They are fine, if a little dirty. We were more worried about you two. When they came back without you." He ran a hand through his hair, his laughter disappearing like smoke. "We feared the worst."

Relief had filled Nadia's face. "We are all quite glad to see you alive and well, to be honest." She paused a moment. "Are you? Well, I mean."

"It's been a bit of a disaster but we are fine now." The three faces stared up at them not looking the least bit convinced. "We’re alive and that's what matters." She added.

"Not for long if Lucio has his way." Rhena debated kicking his shin.

"Tell us everything."

Chapter 22

Muriel had headed back to camp but Rhena stayed to speak to Asra, even with the twinkle in his eyes. "You and Muriel, hm?" He didn't say anything else, but his smile widened when Rhena flushed.

"Yes, me and Muriel-."

He lit up. "Really? Like really really?'' Rhena smiled, his glee infectious. "I knew it. This is so exciting, tell me everything." Rhena laughed but his grin faltered. "I mean you don't have to if you don't want to. Of course. I just. It's really good to hear that he's opening up." 

"Well." Rhena caught him up on everything. It was like being back at the shop, her and Asra kicked back at the table and just talking. When she got to the kiss, he gasped and clapped.

"He kissed you back." She nodded, half hidden in her cloak but grinning. "I’m so proud of him. And you." He straightened his shoulders and attempted to look serious. "When's the wedding?"

Rhena gave him a grin that made her nose crinkle. "Tomorrow, I think. Inanna agreed to officiate." Asra laughed, deep and long. He hasn't been this happy in a long time. She thought affectionately.

"That's probably a little fast for him." Rhena chuckled as he continued. "I've known him a long time, you know." He gave her a sly grin. "The day after tomorrow then, I'll wrestle Inanna to see who officiates." Rhena laughed but it fizzled out when Asra grew somber. "It's been a long time since I've seen him this happy. Life," Asra sighed. "It got crueler, and crueler. And worse when the plague came. And we ran. But. He ran further, into himself. It always felt like something was missing. He didn't smile a lot." Asra gave her a conspiratorial grin. "And every time he thought you weren't looking, he was beaming at you." 

Rhena's heart thudded and her voice squeaked. "Really?"

"Really.” He said with a grin before sobering again. “I don't know what the future has in store. With everything happening, all the moving pieces. But I know how strong you are, how strong Muriel is. Together you can take on anything."

She nodded as he stood away from the water. "Wait!" He stopped, brow raised. "Sweets?"

He grinned. "Waiting for news, hee's keeping the chickens company." 

She smiled. "He's going to give them complexes."

"I'll keep in touch okay?" They waved and the magic disappeared, leaving her alone on the tundra, but her heart was happy.

Heart of the Wood

[demondeanismybaby]

I Just Need a Break Part 9

Pairing: Sam x reader, Dean

Word count: 1902

Summary: It’s rougher at night, after everything that’s happened, maybe that’s why you so afraid but you are convinced this time its real.

Warnings: Language, violence, Dean is an asshole again, angst along the lines of hurt/comfort.

A/N: Ok, so I think there is only going to be one possibly two more parts. The next one is for sure going to be smutty. Read the rest here...

Series Masterpost

Letting you go, he moved to finish cleaning up the mess you had made, and you bent down to help him. After a while the evidence of your outburst was gone and Sam went back into the room to lay down. You weren’t tired but you followed him anyway, and this time when you couldn’t sleep you laid there and listened to his breathing.

Time kept sliding by, you willed yourself to stop looking at the little electronic face that Sam had set innocently on the nightstand, but you kept turning so you could see them. 3:23, am, the numbers read. Although you were weird from the coffee earlier that wasn’t the only thing keeping you fixed on the clock, it sounded like there was someone in the house.

Past the heavy, sleep induced, breathing beside you. There was a sound underneath that, in the next room. It was a faint rustling, you were trying to convince yourself it was just the argument with Sam tonight, but it could have been footsteps. The type of feet, that knew when to walk lightly. Part of you knew you should force yourself to go check it out. Maybe when you turned on the light in the other rooms and saw nothing you could even go to sleep, but you were terrified. Pushing against the warm body next to yours you tried to focus on him.

A book hitting the floor, the soft thud onto the hardwood, that’s when you knew. 

Nudging his chest, you heard him grumble at you, “go to sleep.”

You didn’t take it personally, you knew his brain was still mostly asleep, instead you shoved him. When his eyes popped open and you could see the panic, you slapped your hand over his mouth, willing him to hear the sounds.

It was completely still now, you wondered if maybe you had imagined it, you let go of Sam who was growing more concerned.

“Y/n what’s going on?” He said pushing himself up to lean against the headboard, there was no indication he had been sleeping less than two minutes ago.

“Nothing,” you didn’t know why but you were still trying to be quiet.

He laid you against him, you head balancing on his upper arm, “please talk to me.”

“It was just another nightmare.”

As you felt him press a kiss on the top of your head, you felt guilty, you knew that you should be telling him the truth. It wasn’t even a big deal, it was just a noise, you were going through a lot. But you hesitated, there was a part of you that was sure you weren’t imagining it, and now you were really hoping Sam would go back to bed. In a way you wanted to deal with alone, prove to yourself that you could still do something as simple as walk around your own place at night, but also you were sick of giving him an excuse for thinking you were weak.

You faked a yawn and convinced him to lay back down. Still hyper aware of any noise in the house, but beyond the bedroom there was nothing. It was now early morning and you were figuring that soon the sun would start lightening the sky, you waited an appropriate amount of time that he would have been sleeping so he wouldn’t notice when you got out of bed, carefully moving the covers off your body you slipped onto the floor.

Instead of flipping on the light, trying not to wake Sam, you felt your way along the wall. The house was new enough that you weren’t familiar with every part of it, like you had been back at the bunker, when the edging around the opening into the living room bumped under your palm you pushed yourself away. Doing you best to adjust to the darkness, dimly you could sense what the shapes would have been in the sunlight, a couch, desk, a few other pieces of furniture.

Scanning the floor you saw it, the offending book, the sound which had freaked you out so much before. Nothing that sinister about it really, maybe it had been placed on the edge of the bookshelf or something.

Pushing forward you made you way through the house, all the while you were calming down, and feeling proud of the fact that you were managing to do it by yourself. Then you got the kitchen, it was one of the few rooms you didn’t need to feel around, you had spent more time there than anywhere else.

“Fuck,” you felt your foot land on a leftover piece of ceramic from the mug you had broken.

Bending your leg, you pushed your foot into your hand, balancing against the counter with your free hand. In the dark you couldn’t make out anything, so you knew you needed to find a light switch so you could make sure you didn’t track blood everywhere.

Hopping to the left side opposite the counter you felt for the switch and as it came on, you carefully examined your foot. Wincing you pulled out a little shard of white that was sticking out of your heel. Still trying to keep your foot held off the ground you made you way over the roll of paper towels by the sink, you were so absorbed in wetting it clean off your foot you didn’t even notice Sam come into the room, but you didn’t flinch as he rested a between your shoulder blades. “Sorry, I know the light must have woken you up.”

“Actually, I hardly even noticed.”

Bile rose in your throat, you didn’t want to turn around, it wasn’t Sam at all. You wondered briefly if he was going to kill you right then, knowing that getting in  between the two of them was the biggest mistake a person could make. His fingers twitched against you. It was his way of making you focus on his touch, his presence, it worked because you turned around.

Time had not been good to him, the week or two since you had been gone had done nothing for his own beating, under his eyes traveling all the way to the tip of his nose were various colored bruises, interrupted only by a more striking darkness of self-made stitches. 

“Dean you look good.” Even though you were terrified being able to face him was a relief.

His face crumpled into a sneer, and he barred his teeth at you, giving him the appearance of a rabid animal. For a split second his eyes left you and traveled down to his arm, but it was so quick it had you almost second guessing he ever did it at all, it was too risky for you to focus on any one thing about him though you were trying to take in any sign of movement so you could counter him.

“You filthy little bitch,” he chest heaved, “you think you get to keep him from me?” He laughed but it was devoid of humor.

When he dipped his head back and had shut his eyes you used it to step away from him, positioning your back so that it was towards the open entrance to the kitchen, you wanted an exit strategy.

“What Dean, you thought he was going to shake your hand and congratulate you after what you did?”

“He should have, I could have told him it wasn’t worth it, been there done that.”

This time you were sure he kept looking at his forearm and it was making you nervous again, his words stung, but you figured if he was all hopped up on some weird spell or something none of that would matter.

Each time you could you inched back, not noticeably, but enough so that soon your feet would technically be the next room. “So why are you in here talking to me, why not just slit my throat in my sleep or something?”

“There’s no fun in that, besides this is so much better watching you.”

“Well, here I am.” The laminate ended and your feet were back on the smooth wood.

“Nah, you don’t get it, I mean I have,” he leaned heavily on the next word, “been,” then smirked, “watching.”

You turned, your pace stuttered to get traction and then you were running, bouncing against walls, tables, you head the shatter of one of the lamps. At this point you wanted it be noisy, sure enough you Sam peering into the hallway. You skidded to a stop and he pulled you in instinctively.

He tilted his head as he looked at you, “where is he?”

You noticed a tremor as you pointed towards the kitchen, “please don’t leave me.” Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, as he started to edge away from you. When he turned back you saw the rage, it wasn’t at you, Dean had ruined everything for him again. He was always doing this, taking Sam’s life and tearing it apart whenever it suited him. This was the first time that you noticed that he was done, he wasn’t ever going to leave you.

As you released him, you could see the way the fabric was bunched in the spot right under his rib-cage. He didn’t reach for a light, his eyes were used to the darkness, and he crept away. It wasn’t the same fumbling journey that you had made it was graceful and in every stretch of his legs or the way you couldn’t hear anything when he touched a foot you saw the way that he was a true hunter.

It scared you more, that the evil thing this time, was his brother.

Sooner than you wanted you watched his back vanish from sight, his smell the new one of the expensive new mint shampoo lingered. Straining you tried to hear anything but nothing then a sound of wood splintering, more of Dean’s creepy laughter, and then an argument you couldn’t really make out the words to. Eventually a door slammed and you knew it was Dean, still alive, walking out. Gripped with utter horror, you flew down the hall.

“Sam,” nothing, “Sammy?”

“In here.”

You turned on the light, Sam was standing over what used to be a chair but now was kindling.

“I think maybe we should get some more furniture.” You grabbed the remains of a chair leg then tossed it back down.

He moved towards you, and you leaned against him, he was taking deep even breaths. If you hadn’t see the casualties and the damage you wouldn’t have believed he had just been fighting. His shirt was the perfect worn softness and you rubbed your face against it, you wanted it all right then. A normal life, it had never been who you were, but seeing the broken furniture and watching you and Sam play out the broken lives, all of it made you feel so tired.

As he moved away you stumbled a little, “I need to clean this up, and then I’ll go look for him.”

“Not today, alright, he won’t come back here anyway now that we know.”

“I can’t let him get away with this.” His fist tightened around a piece of wood and you knew that blood would start oozing out soon.

You knelt down and pried his fingers open. “I just want to be with you, please lets not let him take anything more away from us.”

You had gotten down in time to save his hand from any real damage, you brought it to your mouth and peppered  kisses all over his skin, finished you surveyed his face. He was calmer, the stormy look was gone. It was clear from his expression he agreed with you.