ohsam | comment fic meme!

Entry tags:

comment fic meme!

Time for a new comment fic meme! Please read the rules as there have been some adjustments due to the recent comment page changes.

SPREAD THE WORD

THE RULES

→ Leave a comment here with your prompt. This is a Sam-focused hurt/comfort community, so Sam should be the one in the hurt/comforted role. Your prompts may involve sick!Sam, hurt!Sam, angsty!Sam, basically anything that results in Sam being on the receiving end of hurt/comfort. (No rules against whumping other characters as well, of course, but you have to whump Sam first. ;) )
→ In your prompt, please state your desired characters or pairings. All genres/pairings welcome, but no real-person (RPF) prompts.

Example A: “Sam, Dean, gen, set in season 2. Sam has a vision and passes out. Cue caring!Dean and limp!Sam.”
Example B: “Sam/Dean, trauma. Sam is injured on a hunt, Dean freaks out when he thinks Sam might be dead.”

→ Post as many prompts as you like - but one prompt per comment. If you've got a couple, comment with each separately.
→ Prompts can be as short or detailed as you like. Remember though - more detail means less wriggle room for the writer, which might lower the chances of someone picking up your prompt.
→ Go through the prompts! If you find one you like, write a fic for it. There's no limit to how many users can reply to a prompt, or how many prompts someone can write for.
→ When replying to a prompt with your comment-fic, put ‘filled’ in your subject line and then anything else you want, like a title if you have one/part numbers. It’s not a big deal if you forget this step, but it will make it easier for people to find your fic. As subject lines are no more, please begin your fills with the word FILLED and a TITLE in BOLD - the first box on this page shows you how to position the bold tag for proper results.
→ If you notice that your fic is not on the master list after a decent amount of time (say, two days), please poke me in a PM. I might have missed it.
→ Anon posting enabled.
→ NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES.
→ Play nice - no flaming and no character bashing, period. Any comments that break this rule will be deleted without warning.
→ Feedback is catnip for writers. Leave some author-love!
→ No spam comments.
→ Contact one of the mods if you have a question.
→ Spread the Sam love - pimp this meme!
→ Have fun!

THE MASTER LIST
Gastroenteritis by

saltfuture
Sam/Dean or gen, any season, Sam has stomach flu, all the nasty symptoms and Dean is just awesome.

Numb by

farfadine
Sam/Dean or gen. A sort of mundane nervous breakdown. Sam has been in awesome!Sam coping mode and suddenly he's just . . . not. But it's not, like, waving a gun around psychotic break. I more have a vision of Sam off doing something ordinary, jogging, an errand, and he just stops. Sitting down on the curb or in the aisle at Walmart or something. And someone gets his phone and calls the first number and Dean has to come and get him.

Everything Flows, Nothing Remains by

minviendha
S7: Dean's dead! Oh wait, no, sorry! It was all a terrible misunderstanding. Everything's fine, Sam. ...Sam?

Weaker by

monicawoe
Season 5 AU. The continuous influx of demon blood into his system completely unlocks Sam's full psychic potential, and his powers basically explode - visions, telekinesis, Andy's mind-control thing, demon manipulation (controlling and destroying). Getting them under control is not fun, especially after he and Dean go their seperate ways.

There is No Spoon by

monicawoe
Season 7, post The Mentalists. Um, what was up with Sam's bent spoon? No, really. Who did that? Subconscious telekinesis is all it takes to turn hallucination into reality.

Make Me Strong Like You by

hillz_85
Sam is acting like everything is fine, that he’s not falling apart at the seams because he needs to look out for Dean who is also falling apart... Dean doesn’t notice how bad things have gotten for his brother and his new coping mechanisms until they are pointed out to him... [author's summary]

Bad Days by

ladybastet92
Sam/Cas (set anytime where Cas is Cas) Sam is sick. Dean’s out doing important things, Cas shows up, Sam has to explain why he’s sleeping in the middle of the day. Cas decides he would like to take a nap as well. Sassy cuddles!

Miscalculation by

si_star_x
Slash. Sam gets some nasty cuts on his face. Dean cleans them. Gentle kissing happens.

By Your Side by

emmram
For some reason Sam get his psychic powers back...but rather than Sam controlling them, Lucifer seems to be able to.

Untitled by anonymous
Pre-series. Sam dealing with the aftermath of rape. Speak-esque, preferably with no graphic depiction of the act.

Out of Nothing at All by

sakura_no_mi
Sam/Dean or gen. Season seven - There are some days Sam doesn't get out of bed at all. Dean's understanding.

If it Wasn't for Bad Luck by

mamapranayama
Sam gets a minor injury- a book falls on his head or he breaks his pinky or something, lol. Dean fusses over him, and discovers Sam is running a fever.

Visit by

saltfuture
Stanford era. Dean visits Sam and finds him sick in bed in his dorm room.

Sleepless by anonymous
Gen or slash, S1 or 2. Sam develops really bad insomnia. Really really realllllllly bad. The sleep deprivation is interfering with hunting and he's all cranky and life just generally sucks but he just can't sleep much. So Sam's exhausted beyond all belief, and Dean is so worried about him. He tries everything he can think of to help and none of it works. But eventually Dean stumbles upon one thing that's actually effective. Bonus points if it's something really small and schmoopy, like stroking Sam's hair while he's lying in bed.

Trust in Me and You'll Trust in Yourself by

hillz_85
After Dean and Sam separate season 5, Sam stops talking. Even if he wants to, he has somehow lost the ability to talk [...] When Dean meets up with him again, he's of course shocked at this new development. Whether Sam starts talking again eventually is up to you, but I'd love to see Dean coax him out of his mental shell in little, big-brotherly ways.

Untitled by

checkthemargins
Sam gets hit with a sleeping curse (it can last for however long you want). After awhile Dean starts waking him up to get him to eat and stuff. Sam is sleepy and adorable and maybe cranky some of the times he's woken up. [WIP]

Life Goes On by

ravelqueen
A super wincesty one: Dean breaks off the sexual aspect of their relationship for a bunch of surely very good reasons, but Sam is pretty sure it's because he doesn't like the idea of Sam hallucinating while they're in bed. Or because Sam is all tainted with demon blood. Or because Sam isn't Lisa. Or because he just doesn't want him anymore. His train of thought doesn't go uphill from there. Big misunderstandings and relationship angst ahoy! My unrequited love kink rears its ugly head. [WIP]

It Happened Like This by

monicawoe
Dean never went and got Sam from Stanford when John was missing. So when Jess died, Dean wasn't there, and Sam went totally John Winchester, left without a word to anyone, and would not rest until he took down Azazel [...] all I'm looking for is the last scene when Sam finally gets his revenge and maybe John and Dean are there and now that Sam's work his done he breaks into a billion pieces and there is withdrawal and severe psychic pains and screaming and Sam hating himself for what he's become but kind of unapologetic for killing the thing that killed his girl.

Falls the Shadow by

inheritedjeans
Gen. Post AHBL part one and AU from there. Sam wakes up on that dirty mattress after Cold Oak with all of his memories of dying and going to heaven intact in his head (maybe he was reuinted with Jess or finally got to meet Mary and was just starting to enjoy having a mom) and he's resentful towards Dean for bringing him back to life and taking him from the peace he finally had and he's almost desperate to go back.

Singin' in the Rain by

center_galaxy
Dean doesn't know what to do about the whole broken wall, psychotic break, hallucinating Lucifer thing. Then Sam gets caught in the rain and gets pneumonia. And Dean DOES know what to do about that. Not like he's glad that Sam's sick, but it's just a relief to have something wrong with Sam he can help with. And, since he's there at close quarters taking care of Sam, Sam has his opportunity, too: to broach the subject of Dean's drinking, to try to get him to talk about his despair and his downward spiral. Basically, the manageable hurt/comfort routine goes on while Sam and Dean are tentatively touching on the big, huge hurt-don't-know-how-to-comfort stuff.

Ticking Time Bomb by

center_galaxy
Sam finds out he has an aneurysm in his brain. It could be life-threatening, but for the moment it is stable and the doctors schedule him for a surgery to repair it, but it is weeks away. Dean freaks out by overprotecting Sam and doing anything he can keep his brain from 'exploding' in the mean time. He practically drives Sam insane when he won't let him run, do any physical exercise, or even go to the bathroom with the door locked. Dean mother-hen's him to the point where he can't stand it anymore and Sam takes off for a walk ... of course, now that he is alone and separated from Dean, this is when his brain decides it's time to explode.

The Apple Falls from the Tree by

center_galaxy
He's been in the business a long time and most of that time he knew John Winchester but never really got to know his kids before, so going on a hunt with them is interesting to say the least. Watching Dean and Sam, how in tandem they are, how much they're like John in different ways. One things for sure though, Dean sure can be one scary mother fucker when Sam is threatened.

Fighting Spirit by

center_galaxy
Dean gets his shit together in the drinking department. It was hard HARD work (either on his own--maybe something really traumatic happened that compelled this new lust for a dry life--or via ye olde Twelve-Step program.) And sure, there are painful desires to backslide but dammit, he's got this. And he's had to do it alone because he can't use anything, anyone as a crutch or an excuse any longer. Upon returning to "life", he discovers Sam has drifted into his own addiction (due to the hallucinations or genetics or hey, it's Tuesday or...yeah. Author's choice!) Now Dean has to get through to Sam and save him from himself, without losing his own hard-won sobriety.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pre-series. Sam dealing with the aftermath of rape. Speak-esque, preferably with no graphic depiction of the act.

He woke at six with his brother. When Dean rose and went in the bathroom, Sam watched from the safety of his blanket and waited until he was alone before he dressed. He had showered last night and even though he felt dirty again, he knew that he wasn’t. He needed to pretend to be normal, to maintain the façade of normality that had carried him through his struggling teen years. He needed to fight his father’s commands and he needed to obey his brother blindly.

School was supposed to be a reprieve. He should’ve been able to find quiet and calm in the corridors of learning. But he wouldn’t anymore. He wouldn’t be able to find comfort in the dusty halls, in the uncrowded library. He couldn’t let himself drop his guard there, not anymore.

When he heard the shower start up, he rolled quickly from beneath the blankets and dressed. Long sleeved t-shirt, t-shirt over top of that, boxers, jeans and, socks, shoes. He brushed the strands of tangled chestnut hair from his eyes and sat on the edge of his bed.

He waited with his hands in his lap until Dean came out of the bathroom. When his brother was out of the bathroom, he forced a smile and pushed his way in. Safely ensconced within the bathroom, he shut and locked the door. Cleaned his face, brushed his teeth, used the toilet and, washed his hands. He refused to look in the mirror above the sink, refused to see what he had become. He was broken. He didn’t need to see it in the bathroom mirror to know the truth.

He swallowed back the pit of despair that that threatened to choke him and forced himself to leave the bathroom.

“Sammy, move your ass,” Dean shouted as he opened the door.

Sam made himself smile at his brother. He side-stepped Dean- refused to touch him. He couldn’t take it, not any more. And after last night, he felt disgusting.

“After school, we’ve got sparring,” Dean said. His voice was a mix of frustrated and resigned. Sam knew that Dean hated having to do the drills, especially when dad wasn’t around to make sure they were doing them right. Sam didn’t mind it too much though. Dad wasn’t there to correct him physically. He didn’t want his dad to touch him. Not right now. “Come eat, bitch.”

Sam closed his eyes and nodded. He couldn’t think of anything he’d like to do less than eat, but he knew that he needed to. Dean wouldn’t let him go to school without having breakfast. And he needed it. He was only eating anymore at dinner and breakfast, when Dean forced the issue. And even then, it was only enough to keep Dean from getting suspicious.

He sat at the table and chewed slowly, ignored the looks Dean shot at him. When they were done, it was quick work to get rid of the dirty dishes and get their backpacks together. Seven in the morning, time to pretend that everything was okay, that he wasn’t damaged.

The ride to school was a small torture. He wanted to scream in the closed confines of the Impala’s front seat. But school wasn’t a better option. Perhaps he would skip out today.

Sam Winchester sobbed softly as he carried his ruined jacket in his hands. He couldn’t let his father or John seem him like this. He couldn’t let his family know that he had been so weak. His jeans were wet and torn around his knees.

His body was heavy, he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay where he’d been either. His back was on fire, his head throbbed. It wasn’t bad enough that he felt like he’d gotten a concussion, but it was nearly a migraine. He stumbled and fell to the ground before he could catch himself. Concrete tore into his hands and he struggled to contain the cry of pain.

Dean should be out. He had a salt and burn the next county over. Dad was out of state hunting something. Sam wasn’t supposed to have gone to the party, but he hadn’t wanted to stay at home either. He’d wanted to go. Needed to go. To prove to himself that he had friends.

He hadn’t counted on Jordan Todd being there.

School was an exercise in control He had to learn to pretend that he was normal, that the not so silent jeers behind his back weren’t hurtful. He had to pretend that he really didn’t want friends. And when Dean asked, he had to pretend that he was making friends, that he was getting along well.

Otherwise, Dean might convince himself to look closer at what was going on. To see what he could do to make things easier for Sammy.

Sam didn’t want that. He wanted to be treated like normal, even if he didn’t want to act like normal himself. He struggled with keeping himself under control. He couldn’t let himself slip. If anything he would consider this another training exercise. He would learn to endure.

He didn’t say anything when he was tripped in the hallways. When his food trays ended up clattering to the floor, food he wasn’t going to eat anyway wasted on the cold and dirty tiles of the ancient cafeteria. He refused to let himself be bullied, to be intimidated by the meaningless children he was protecting.

He shuddered when touches found him, when teachers called on him and he had the answer, but he refused to give it. He didn’t talk in school. Away from Dean, away from his commanding father, he was a mute teen. It didn’t help that he was the new student. That at the party, he’d…

No. No, he would not think about that. He would not let himself think about what happened, and he refused to acknowledge the truth.

He focused on the collecting the things he needed for homework that evening. Ignored the looming presence of the football team behind him. The team was idolized throughout the school. They were division champions, the team were gods among the students.

Sam laughed at the joke Jordan had made. He threw the beer he’d been given back and grimaced at the taste. The bottle was starting to warm up, the beer was starting to get yeasty. Sam needed a new one.

“’Scuse me,” he murmured. He waved away from Jordan and moved toward the chaotic kitchen seeking another beer.

“Let me,” Jordan called. He wrapped a large hand around Sam’s biceps and pulled him back. “I’ll get you another beer,” he said with a quirked smile.

Sam waited for Dean at the Impala. He’d considered breaking into the car, climbing into the backseat and curling into himself and just waiting for the end. But he couldn’t. Dean couldn’t know about what had happened to him. He couldn’t know that Sam was breaking. Because if Dean knew, then dad would know. And if dad knew, he would be so disappointed.

He curled his arms around the books against his chest, leaned heavily against the passenger side door and waited. The sun wasn’t even out for him to pretend like it was a nice day. It was cool, a constant breeze blew and he fought the urge to shiver. The sun couldn’t make it out of the clouds, but the grey light was enough. More than what he deserved. He was so dirty.

He jumped and his books fell from his hands when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey there, pretty boy,” Jordan grinned. Pretty boy, I’m gonna ride you so hard. Sam jumped back, left his books lying on the concrete as he tried to escape without making it obvious. “You miss me?”

“P-please,” Sam begged in a quiet whisper. “L-Leave me alone.”

“Sammy?” Dean’s voice called. It broke the momentary spell he’d been under and he jumped to look at his brother. Dean was at the driver’s side door, his green eyes were narrowed angrily at Jordan and Sam looked between them both, refused to acknowledge the cold sweat on his forehead, the shivers that coursed through him at the thought of Jordan.

“Get in the car,” Dean’s voice was the soft and dangerous voice of command that was impossible to ignore. Sam obeyed. He watched Jordan as he crossed the lot while he knelt to pick up his text books. He climbed into the car and sat silent as he waited for Dean to take them to the motel they were calling home.

“We’re going to talk about that,” Dean promised.

Sam looked out the window and waited for the explosion that he was sure would happen.

Jordan handed him the beer, the lid already popped off, and Sam smiled gratefully and took a swig of the cool alcohol. He smiled at the quarterback, unused to the attention he was getting. Dean was the one who attracted partners. Sam was the nerdy and naïve one. He wasn’t used to thinking of himself as attractive. Especially when compared to Jordan. And it was probably that Jordan just wanted a cheap, quick hook-up, but Sam was kind of okay with that.

“Thanks,” Sam smiled. He watched Jordan closely as he moved closer to Sam. A hot hand slid across his lower back, caressed the curve of his back above his ass. He shuddered at the touch and he leaned into Jordan curiously.

“I want you,” Jordan whispered into Sam’s ear. His voice was soft and enticing and Sam wanted to give into it. But he didn’t want to blindly give in. He needed more than just the random hook-ups that Dean seemed to live on.

“Do you even know my name?” he asked.

“If it’s important to you, I’ll learn it. If not, then it doesn’t matter.”

“So,” Dean started when they were both in the motel room. “Wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“It’s nothing,” Sam muttered. He shook his head and sat his stuff on the bed. He would do his homework later, after he’d taken a shower. “I’m taking a shower.”

“No.” Dean strode across the room in six giant steps before Sam could react. “I’m not okay with what I saw today. And I’m not going to let you pretend nothing’s wrong. It’s been six weeks, Sam. Six fucking weeks and I haven’t said a damned thing waiting for you to bring it up. Waiting for you to step up to me and tell me you were hurting. But you haven’t. And now I have to force the issue.”

“Don’t,” Sam begged. “Please, please don’t do this.”

Dean stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sam’s trembling body. “Sammy, you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing. Let me go!” he demanded, pushing against Dean. But six weeks of depriving himself of precious nutrition, of sleep meant that he was weaker than normal. It was no wonder Jordan had gotten the jump on him. He shivered at the thought. “Let me… It doesn’t matter!”

“It matters. You either talk to me, you talk to dad, or I talk to that kid in the parking lot,” Dean threatened. He released Sam and watched him pace the length of the bed.

“C-can… Later? Okay? I need… I need a shower. Please Dean, let me go take a shower.”

“No. We’re going running. You keep up.”

“Thought we were sparring,” Sam said softly.

“No. Not until you talk to me. We’re running instead.”

Sam nodded and grabbed a change of clothes from his duffel. He pulled the sweatshirt he normally wore for running out and moved toward the bathroom.

“You can change out here,” Dean said softly. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your chest before.”

“No. I’ll change in the bathroom,” Sam countered.

“Damnit Sam. When did you become such a freak?”

“I’m not… I’m not a freak.”

Jordan had him pressed against the rough trunk of a tree. His shirts had been lost somewhere along the way. He didn’t know where they had gone, didn’t know what had happened here, he didn’t want to be pressed against this tree with Jordan moving against him.

He was hot, feverish almost. His body was on fire. Jordan felt good against him, but he felt wrong too. He pushed weakly against Jordan’s still covered chest. He tossed his head side to side and fought the urge to vomit as Jordan’s hands slid into his jeans.

He’d been curious and he’d been flirty with Jordan. This was what happened when he did that. He would do well to remember that in the future. He was hard in his boxers. He was terrified, but he wanted it. It confused him and he resumed struggled he didn’t remember stopping.

“J’rd’n?” he slurred heavily.

“God, what’re you? A freak? How’re you still conscious?” Jordan asked as he thrust his hips against Sam’s again.

His head was pulled forward by a fistful of long strands and then forced back into the trunk of the tree. “D’n!” he begged.

“Oh god,” Sam sobbed softly as he fell to his knees. He trembled at the thought that he’d been… that he’d allowed himself to be taken advantage of. He knew that dad or Dean would never have allowed it to happen. He curled his arms around himself and rocked back and forth slowly. He was a broken man. He knew that. And he couldn’t tell Dean. He couldn’t tell anyone who might actually be able to help him.

“Sammy,” Dean growled. Sam clenched his eyes shut when he heard his brother hit his knees beside him. Strong arms wrapped around him and Dean’s voice was a soft litany of soothing noises. His hands moved in a careful, steady rhythm. “I’ve gotcha. You’re alright.”

“’M sorry,” Sam just repeated.

When he was aware of what was going on again, he was alone. His jeans were tangled around his ankles, pulled sloppily over his shoes. His shirt was wadded into the dirt to the side of the tree he was lying under. His back felt like it was on fire. He’d been pressed against the tree last he remembered.

Prone on the ground, he could take the time to catalogue his body. His hips hurt. His back hurt. His ass was a constant throbbing pain. His shoulders felt wrong and stiff. His throat hurt, had he been screaming? His knees were scratched, as were his palms and elbows. He shifted and white lightening shot through him. He fought roiling nausea and turned onto his side, even though his body protested the move.

He had to get home. He had to… he needed to take a shower and he needed a good night’s sleep. Once that was over, he knew it would be nothing more than a bad dream. He had just imagined it all.

“That salt and burn,” Dean said. “You weren’t in a fight, were you?” He looked at his brother with pleading eyes and shook his head. “Talk to me. What’d that kid do to you?”

“’M gonna throw up,” Sam forced out. He fought against Dean’s hold and ran to the bathroom. He only just made it. He buried his head in the lap of the porcelain goddess and gave base worship. The hair that fell in his eyes and his retching all hid his brother’s entrance and approach. A cold rag draped over the back of his neck and he shivered.

“Did he… Damnit Sam,” Dean said softly. His voice sounded broke, and the hand on Sam’s back trembled. “Did he rape you?”

“Don’t!” Sam sobbed, his voice broken and hoarse. “Don’t say that!”

“I’ll kill him. “I’m going to fucking kill him. And then you for not telling me,” Dean growled. He stalked away from Sam, out of the bathroom, his fists landed heavily against the door, the wall, whatever he could punch.

“Dean!” Sam rasped.

Dean was still close enough that he heard and he stuck his head back in the bathroom. His eyes were red and his cheeks were pink. He’d been crying, or fighting the urge to cry. Sam felt the disgust, the self-loathing return full force and he curled into himself on the floor.

“C’mon Sammy,” Dean said softly. He slid a hand across Sam’s shoulders and down his back. “Come lay down.”

Sam fell into the room. He sobbed as his body jarred at the impact. It hurt. Everything hurt. He was grateful nobody was home even as he hated the fact that he was alone. He wanted to fall into Dean, wanted to hide away in his brother’s warmth, but he couldn’t.

Realization hit him hard. He couldn’t tell Dean what had happened. He’d been attacked. He was too weak to protect himself. He’d been attacked and violated because he was a coward. He was too weak.

He crawled into the bathroom. He vomited onto the floor and sobbed at the way it made his ribs hurt, his stomach clenched. He needed to shower. He needed to clean himself off. It was impossible… he couldn’t stay like this.

Sam didn’t remember falling asleep. He didn’t remember moving into the bedroom or climbing under the covers. The last thing that he remembered was being in the bathroom, sobbing as his brother struggled to comfort him. He struggled, it felt like he was suffocating in the covers of the bed and tried to pull himself out of the mire.

“Easy,” the gruff voice of dad cautioned. “Easy boy, you’re okay.”

“D-dad?” Sam asked, calming at the order. His voice was wrecked. He almost couldn’t believe it was his.

“Dean called me. He needed to take care of something. He didn’t say what exactly. But he needed me to come home, said it was an emergency. Funky town.”

Sam sobbed and curled into himself. It was over. Dad would have no respect for him now. He covered his head with his hands and let himself cry behind the dark curtain of his hands.

Dad’s hand slid over Sam’s scalp slowly. He pet him slow and gentle, soothing his son in the only way he knew how. And even though Sam didn’t want to, he couldn’t stop himself from relaxing into his father’s touch. John was an absent father, but he was attentive and he really cared about his sons.

He was steadily falling back asleep when the hotel room busted open. Dean strode in, all anger and sadness. He slammed the door behind him and fell onto the edge of the bed Sam was lying on. “We’re leaving this godforsaken shithole of a town. Tonight. Tomorrow if we have to. But I ain’t staying here another day I don’t need.”

“What happened, boys?”

“Humans dad,” Dean answered. It was as general an answer as he could give without giving too much away. “It’s taken care of though.”

Sam shuddered and leaned into his dad’s touch, seeking comfort. Dean and dad would protect him. And it seemed that Dean wasn’t eager to tell his dad about how weak he was. Sam was grateful.

“Dad, we need a minute,” Dean said softly.

“I expect answers to my questions,” dad ordered. He patted Sam’s head and stood.

Dean waited until dad was out the motel room before he turned to his brother. “Sammy,” Dean said softly, calling his brother’s attention to himself. “He drugged the beer. He admitted to it. And it won’t happen again.”

Sam curled into his brother and just let himself sob. He was fifteen. He hadn’t wanted to learn about sex like that. He had wanted to discover it with somebody he’d loved. It was robbed from him. But Dean was protecting him. Even though he was weak and worthless, Dean was still protecting him. Sam sobbed as he clung to his brother. “Thank you.”

The End

Oh wow--this is intense and really good.

Thank you very much! i'm so glad that you liked it!

Oh Sammy!

He suffers so prettily!

Incredible. This was so vivid.

Thank you very much! i'm glad that you liked it!

Saaaam ;____; This was so hurty and well done.

He hurts and suffers so prettily! Thank you very much!

Holy crap. That was intense and realistic and without even realizing it was happening I found myself crying. This is wonderful.

While i'd like to say that i'm sorry for making you cry, i can't do it honestly. So... i'll take it as a compliment! Thank you for reading, and i'm glad that it affected you so!

Wow, SO good. <3<3<3

Poor Sam, feeling guilty for something he shouldn't. I'm glad Dean sorted Jordan out and I'm hoping it was painful.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

comment fic meme!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject