![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yllektraTitle: Triptych (Of Pain)- Part Two
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
force_oblique
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam/Ruby (Lilith)
Spoilers/Warnings: Mostly 3x16 // A bit Angsty and the blood imagery is powerful..
Word Count: This part 1723, but I will probably have a few more parts to come XD
Summary: ...Sam Winchester shifted himself on the floor and holding his brother’s body tighter in his arms he began to weep for the fairness and the justice that refused to make their appearance in this life, in this world...
Author's Notes:It's a take on the last scenes of 3x16. I would like to explore the possibilities after that...and my are they infinite... lol
~ English is not my native language so excuse any crappiness and/or mistakes!And I am sorry but I just couldn't be lucid today...I don't know why.. lol
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to:
[1]herm_weasley because it was about time I dedicated something to her! ^^
[2]kris_21 because she is all about Dean and Sam! <33
Part One: HERE
Majorly Crossposted at:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
daysofthereapermoon_hunterswincest_freesn_ficspn_fanficspooky_fictionsupernaturalfic
Triptych (Of Pain)- Part Two
Sam
The silence was hurting him. The silence around him almost made his ears bleed.
If indeed any sound were present, it would be the traitorous sound of his own breathing and the beat of a heart that continued to work even though it obviously had no reason to.
And it seemed to him that it was perhaps the single scariest, most detrimental sound he had ever heard…
Cross-legged on the cold floor with his brother’s hand in his hands, Sam Winchester tried to make his peace. But inside he knew there was no way and no chance he could do that.
All he knew, all he ever trusted was his family. Life with his brother and father. What they were, he was...
If he got mad at them, he always recognized a little of their stubbornness in him... His father's despotism, Dean's silly tricks...
And it could all be a game now. One silly game, an act meant to deceive, to lure, to manipulate any demon into thinking that his brother, Dean was dead. Only this time it wasn’t an orchestration or a play…
This time it was true and the unbearable weight of truth felt like a giant rock against his chest. Constricting him, making him feel smaller and smaller…
Sam felt hot. As if he was burning from the inside. As if the reality of this was a flame inside him, threatening to devour and blacken everything until there was nothing left on the inside and it finally made its way on the outside.
And he wondered if he would be come a vengeful human torch soon...
A time-bomb one tick away from detonation....
He was burning and he wished that his heat, his warmth could somehow be transmitted to the now cold body of his brother and make it live again or appear alive…
As if he were sleeping…
It would only be make-believe but at least it would be something.
At least it would be something different than this bitter taste in his mouth, the venom on his dry lips and the emptiness inside his chest.
Sam Winchester took a look at his brother’s face. His dusty blond hair, his thin mouth…
It was a nightmare that all of his beautiful, familiar features were concealed by blood- now dry- and the ugliness that only a hellhound, a messenger of death can cover you with…
Still, Dean Winchester couldn’t be called ugly. He could never be called ugly. Not even when he was mean, or harsh or ruthless.
There was always grace in him. Not only divine grace, but also grace in everything he did.
A grace bestowed to him by his innate sense of justice and righteousness.
He touched his hand again. It was already cold but it was also wet with his tears.
Tears that could not wash away the pain, the agony or the harsh, undeniable reality that was etching its way into his heart.
His brother was dead and not just that. He was doomed to suffer for all eternity in the darkest pits of hell and that was something he could not live with…
How could it be that his body was still here on earth, in his loving arms but in reality he could be anywhere in the flaming darkness of the inferno underground?
How could it be that his face was inches from his own –as he took his torso in his arms- bloodied yet calm, but in reality it may be torn and swollen beyond recognition due to the torments and the tortures taking place in hell?
How he wished his brother could instead be sent to heaven like he deserved for all the good he had done, for all the work he had done in the name of justice and virtue and for everything he had sacrificed in order for the world to be free of evil and suffering…
Sam Winchester shifted himself on the floor and holding his brother’s body tighter in his arms he began to weep for the fairness and the justice that refused to make their appearance in this life, in this world, rocking back and forth trying to lull his pain away…
Ruby
Darkness. Darkness all around her with no beginning and no end. It made no difference whether her eyes were open or not…
She blinked wearily more to occupy herself with something, to keep insanity from edging closer to her mind than because it would actually help her eyesight.
Black. Everything around her was black.
And although the color was familiar to her eyes, to her soul, she thought that at last she was finally free of its constriction. That she was free from its grip ever since the day she escaped hell.
But she was wrong. Deluded once more...
It was all clear to her now. It made no difference what you believed in, how much good you tried to do or how much faith you held…
You still ended up in the same place you started from.
Trying to sit up from her position on the rough, jagged floor, Ruby had no doubt that this was indeed hell.
She could feel it in her stomach which was in knots.
She could feel it inside her head that was spinning.
She could feel it in her heart, where once something good resided...
It was hell...
A part of it she had never visited before, but it was just as blunt and hurtful as anything in this dimension.
Yet, there was something which was undeniably different and that was the coldness in the space she was held in.
Ruby drew back a breath to avoid vomiting but still the sick feeling wouldn't loosen it's hold on her.
It was eerie...everything in this place was eerie and it made her feel sick.
As if she were not in contact with herself anymore.
Then again, nothing belongs to you in hell.
Not even your own body...
In hell it was never cold. It was always hot.
Too hot, scorching hot even and it caused her to be constantly sweaty and exhausted, adding to the anguish…
But in here, wherever “here” was, it was cold.
So cold it was freezing.
It was causing her to shiver, so much that her teeth were clattering and wrapping her arms tight around her broken body she tried to maintain her body heat in an attempt to salvage her life however worthless it may be…
Dean
“Help me, somebody help me!” his voice echoed bringing back no help or any sign of concern…
Dean Winchester knew where he was and what he could expect but he couldn’t stop fragments of a hope smashed beyond recognition approach him as if he were a magnet and them pieces of metal.
Breaths he wasn't sure he still needed kept coming in and out of him, but they were more of a torture instead of a means of sustaining him.
Every single volume of air caused his ribs to ache as his ribcage expanded along with his breathing.
He felt as if everything in him, everything that was him had been smashed with one giant hammer.
Of course he remembered. And however painful, he didn't wish he didn't.
The longer he could hold on to his memories, the longer he could resist turning into what he hated the most...
And if that ever happened, everything would be lost.
He struggled for clarity but he found that he was dizzy, numb from pain.
The pain was so much that his nerves couldn't even catch up with it to register it and there he was like honey to a swarm of bees.
Their stings in more places of him he could count..each sting another needle in his skin filling him with darkness.
The same darkness that threatened to consume him.
To occupy him and turn him into another personification of evil.
Another embodiment of malice...
How he wished he could die, just as quietly and as peacefully as he had intended.
He just wanted to close his eyes and pretend that this was just a bad dream. An illusion created by a trickster, a jin.
Something -anything tangible, anything he could wrap his mind around...
Because he needed to understand, he needed to make sense of it and blackness, evil is something too abstract, too general to comprehend...
And too insurmountable....
And as he swallowed saliva filled with bile; he bitterly admitted that it was too big for him.
Too great a measure to calculate and stay calm or focused...
His skin was itching, aching, stretched on the hooks on all sides and he tried to go past it, transcend the pain.
He tried to tell himself that he was still in that room with Ruby and his brother, only this time everything went differently.
Sam gave him his hand and ,as he felt it on his own, he knew he was safe because if he could trust anyone to never let go, that was Sam.
He would trust him with his life and he'd give his for him anytime.
He didn't regret, he couldn't regret sacrificing himself for his brother.
"No regrets" he whispered and screamed once more as the strain became too much...
One more gasp, eyes shut hard and he escaped.
He escaped again. To his reality.
And in this reality Sam's hand was strong in his and Ruby was there too...
In his reality, Ruby had killed the hellhound with the knife.
There was no messenger of death now. Nothing chasing him.
Nothing to drag him in hell.
There was no wound on him.
Nothing to fear, no blood gushing out of him.
It was just another day of them vanquishing evil...just like any other time.
Nothing had changed.
But even if dizzy and bloodied and swollen, Dean Winchester was not a fool nor crazy.
He knew he was only fooling himself.
He knew that the only embrace he could expect now, was one of darkness, one of agony but there was still something inside him.
Something that went beyond all doubt and all anguish.
And that was that Sam would come for him.
And all he could do now was wait.
Wait and help his brother find him.
So he kept calling to him....
"Sam? Sam!! Help me please! Help....!"
End of chapter 2
If you enjoyed this part, other SPN fiction:
1)This Is How You Fall - A Ruby Fic - [1]
2)A Shell - Running On Hope - A Ruby/Dean fic - [1]
3)The Other Side - A Ruby Fic - [1]
Author:
force_obliqueRating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam/Ruby (Lilith)
Spoilers/Warnings: Mostly 3x16 // A bit Angsty and the blood imagery is powerful..
Word Count: This part 1723, but I will probably have a few more parts to come XD
Summary: ...Sam Winchester shifted himself on the floor and holding his brother’s body tighter in his arms he began to weep for the fairness and the justice that refused to make their appearance in this life, in this world...
Author's Notes:It's a take on the last scenes of 3x16. I would like to explore the possibilities after that...and my are they infinite... lol
~ English is not my native language so excuse any crappiness and/or mistakes!And I am sorry but I just couldn't be lucid today...I don't know why.. lol
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to:
[1]
herm_weasley because it was about time I dedicated something to her! ^^[2]
kris_21 because she is all about Dean and Sam! <33Part One: HERE
Majorly Crossposted at:
daysofthereapermoon_hunterswincest_freesn_ficspn_fanficspooky_fictionsupernaturalficTriptych (Of Pain)- Part Two
Sam
The silence was hurting him. The silence around him almost made his ears bleed.
If indeed any sound were present, it would be the traitorous sound of his own breathing and the beat of a heart that continued to work even though it obviously had no reason to.
And it seemed to him that it was perhaps the single scariest, most detrimental sound he had ever heard…
Cross-legged on the cold floor with his brother’s hand in his hands, Sam Winchester tried to make his peace. But inside he knew there was no way and no chance he could do that.
All he knew, all he ever trusted was his family. Life with his brother and father. What they were, he was...
If he got mad at them, he always recognized a little of their stubbornness in him... His father's despotism, Dean's silly tricks...
And it could all be a game now. One silly game, an act meant to deceive, to lure, to manipulate any demon into thinking that his brother, Dean was dead. Only this time it wasn’t an orchestration or a play…
This time it was true and the unbearable weight of truth felt like a giant rock against his chest. Constricting him, making him feel smaller and smaller…
Sam felt hot. As if he was burning from the inside. As if the reality of this was a flame inside him, threatening to devour and blacken everything until there was nothing left on the inside and it finally made its way on the outside.
And he wondered if he would be come a vengeful human torch soon...
A time-bomb one tick away from detonation....
He was burning and he wished that his heat, his warmth could somehow be transmitted to the now cold body of his brother and make it live again or appear alive…
As if he were sleeping…
It would only be make-believe but at least it would be something.
At least it would be something different than this bitter taste in his mouth, the venom on his dry lips and the emptiness inside his chest.
Sam Winchester took a look at his brother’s face. His dusty blond hair, his thin mouth…
It was a nightmare that all of his beautiful, familiar features were concealed by blood- now dry- and the ugliness that only a hellhound, a messenger of death can cover you with…
Still, Dean Winchester couldn’t be called ugly. He could never be called ugly. Not even when he was mean, or harsh or ruthless.
There was always grace in him. Not only divine grace, but also grace in everything he did.
A grace bestowed to him by his innate sense of justice and righteousness.
He touched his hand again. It was already cold but it was also wet with his tears.
Tears that could not wash away the pain, the agony or the harsh, undeniable reality that was etching its way into his heart.
His brother was dead and not just that. He was doomed to suffer for all eternity in the darkest pits of hell and that was something he could not live with…
How could it be that his body was still here on earth, in his loving arms but in reality he could be anywhere in the flaming darkness of the inferno underground?
How could it be that his face was inches from his own –as he took his torso in his arms- bloodied yet calm, but in reality it may be torn and swollen beyond recognition due to the torments and the tortures taking place in hell?
How he wished his brother could instead be sent to heaven like he deserved for all the good he had done, for all the work he had done in the name of justice and virtue and for everything he had sacrificed in order for the world to be free of evil and suffering…
Sam Winchester shifted himself on the floor and holding his brother’s body tighter in his arms he began to weep for the fairness and the justice that refused to make their appearance in this life, in this world, rocking back and forth trying to lull his pain away…
Ruby
Darkness. Darkness all around her with no beginning and no end. It made no difference whether her eyes were open or not…
She blinked wearily more to occupy herself with something, to keep insanity from edging closer to her mind than because it would actually help her eyesight.
Black. Everything around her was black.
And although the color was familiar to her eyes, to her soul, she thought that at last she was finally free of its constriction. That she was free from its grip ever since the day she escaped hell.
But she was wrong. Deluded once more...
It was all clear to her now. It made no difference what you believed in, how much good you tried to do or how much faith you held…
You still ended up in the same place you started from.
Trying to sit up from her position on the rough, jagged floor, Ruby had no doubt that this was indeed hell.
She could feel it in her stomach which was in knots.
She could feel it inside her head that was spinning.
She could feel it in her heart, where once something good resided...
It was hell...
A part of it she had never visited before, but it was just as blunt and hurtful as anything in this dimension.
Yet, there was something which was undeniably different and that was the coldness in the space she was held in.
Ruby drew back a breath to avoid vomiting but still the sick feeling wouldn't loosen it's hold on her.
It was eerie...everything in this place was eerie and it made her feel sick.
As if she were not in contact with herself anymore.
Then again, nothing belongs to you in hell.
Not even your own body...
In hell it was never cold. It was always hot.
Too hot, scorching hot even and it caused her to be constantly sweaty and exhausted, adding to the anguish…
But in here, wherever “here” was, it was cold.
So cold it was freezing.
It was causing her to shiver, so much that her teeth were clattering and wrapping her arms tight around her broken body she tried to maintain her body heat in an attempt to salvage her life however worthless it may be…
Dean
“Help me, somebody help me!” his voice echoed bringing back no help or any sign of concern…
Dean Winchester knew where he was and what he could expect but he couldn’t stop fragments of a hope smashed beyond recognition approach him as if he were a magnet and them pieces of metal.
Breaths he wasn't sure he still needed kept coming in and out of him, but they were more of a torture instead of a means of sustaining him.
Every single volume of air caused his ribs to ache as his ribcage expanded along with his breathing.
He felt as if everything in him, everything that was him had been smashed with one giant hammer.
Of course he remembered. And however painful, he didn't wish he didn't.
The longer he could hold on to his memories, the longer he could resist turning into what he hated the most...
And if that ever happened, everything would be lost.
He struggled for clarity but he found that he was dizzy, numb from pain.
The pain was so much that his nerves couldn't even catch up with it to register it and there he was like honey to a swarm of bees.
Their stings in more places of him he could count..each sting another needle in his skin filling him with darkness.
The same darkness that threatened to consume him.
To occupy him and turn him into another personification of evil.
Another embodiment of malice...
How he wished he could die, just as quietly and as peacefully as he had intended.
He just wanted to close his eyes and pretend that this was just a bad dream. An illusion created by a trickster, a jin.
Something -anything tangible, anything he could wrap his mind around...
Because he needed to understand, he needed to make sense of it and blackness, evil is something too abstract, too general to comprehend...
And too insurmountable....
And as he swallowed saliva filled with bile; he bitterly admitted that it was too big for him.
Too great a measure to calculate and stay calm or focused...
His skin was itching, aching, stretched on the hooks on all sides and he tried to go past it, transcend the pain.
He tried to tell himself that he was still in that room with Ruby and his brother, only this time everything went differently.
Sam gave him his hand and ,as he felt it on his own, he knew he was safe because if he could trust anyone to never let go, that was Sam.
He would trust him with his life and he'd give his for him anytime.
He didn't regret, he couldn't regret sacrificing himself for his brother.
"No regrets" he whispered and screamed once more as the strain became too much...
One more gasp, eyes shut hard and he escaped.
He escaped again. To his reality.
And in this reality Sam's hand was strong in his and Ruby was there too...
In his reality, Ruby had killed the hellhound with the knife.
There was no messenger of death now. Nothing chasing him.
Nothing to drag him in hell.
There was no wound on him.
Nothing to fear, no blood gushing out of him.
It was just another day of them vanquishing evil...just like any other time.
Nothing had changed.
But even if dizzy and bloodied and swollen, Dean Winchester was not a fool nor crazy.
He knew he was only fooling himself.
He knew that the only embrace he could expect now, was one of darkness, one of agony but there was still something inside him.
Something that went beyond all doubt and all anguish.
And that was that Sam would come for him.
And all he could do now was wait.
Wait and help his brother find him.
So he kept calling to him....
"Sam? Sam!! Help me please! Help....!"
End of chapter 2
If you enjoyed this part, other SPN fiction:
1)This Is How You Fall - A Ruby Fic - [1]
2)A Shell - Running On Hope - A Ruby/Dean fic - [1]
3)The Other Side - A Ruby Fic - [1]
