all duct tape and safety pins inside

ever_dimming

He’s not sure what’s happening. He knows his eyes are open, because he can see the room around him, can see Dean and hear Jane’s voice, though he can’t actively look at anything, can't quite listen. He’s just there. Where - - what’s going on?
“Sam.” That’s Dean’s voice, Dean’s hand on his arm. Warm, solid. An anchor. “Sammy, talk to me. Hey.”
Jane sounds sad as she says, somewhere behind him, “he can’t.”

ever_dimming

A hand touching his arm, pressing on his shoulder gently. "Sam."

He becomes increasingly aware of the distant rattle of distress, and the memory of the torment that still awaits him (not going anywhere Samuel, all we’ve got down here is time, thanks to you) floods him with panic. Stop no please go away please please.

The hand is still gripping his bicep, fingers moving like spiders on his skin, he’s trapped trapped trapped. His body reacts, muscles seizing, breathing growing rapid.

“Hey, hey. Sam, it’s okay. You’re in the hospital, you just had some tests done. Everything’s alright, you’re safe.”

Title: Away from These Shores (8/?)
Author: ever_dimming
Genre: Gen
Summary: A simple hunt leaves Sam in an altered state no one seems able to explain – at first. Pulling him out of it is not nearly as easy as it should be, especially since Dean is dealing with his own trauma.
Triggers: dissociation, post-trauma, past violence & torture
Disclaimer: Supernatural, its characters, plot lines etc. belong to their awesome creators. I am merely suggesting fun new ways in which those beloved characters could suffer and/or be comforted.

This chapter ended up pretty damn long. It explores the ways in which Sam's vulnerable state affects Dean, Ellen and Bobby, but I'd say it's still Sam-centric.

She finds herself absurdly grateful when Sam slides back into blank apathy, because at least then she can tell herself he isn’t feeling anything as she walks him around the living room or in the yard like an ailing horse, gets him to sit out on the porch swing with her. As she presses a glass of cold water into his hand and wraps his lax fingers around it again and again, drink that, honey, come on. Talks to him without getting a response.

Chapter 8 (AO3)

First chapter