Characters: Sam,Dean, others
Genre: fever dream
Notes: caranfindel likes some Trials Sam, and esp. The Great Escapist! ( ; Happy birthday to you!
All the way back to the beginning you were burnt, that's what they all said, angel and demon and prophet and monster; your own.
.... toast? your brother says.
You can hear Dean telling you to wake up, wake up, alarms banging in the brainpan; hell's bells.
It must be morning.
When you were only a kid, kissing your first girl, or your first Jess, hand curled crisp in yours like a fall leaf in a place there weren't any, not for now, just the gold and the green and the fog and the sea. Lecture: Native art. Dinner: you and your girl and California, and California’s always burning, or breaking; shaking herself loose from the earth, free at last.
All your faults, your frailties.
Oh, you're shook, your first love and your last, a demon said once, in a girl's sweet body that crimped close, slipped down your hot throat, told you to swallow. But she meant your brother--first to fill you, eyes and hands and eyes; first to carry you, first to see you go up, and up.
Lucifer fries eggs in your kitchen, hooks an arm, asks if you slept well, baby, says it was always gonna end like this, us, domestic bliss with my best, well--you know you're never gonna do it, weak as you are, Sam, you gotta eat, spreadeagle (my favorite) between two cosmologies, what does it all mean, my burning boy; you want toast with that?
Your brother slaps you. You brother says it was almost the end, man, you almost, runs glaciers over your brain, your face; lovers and lovers and others, and just like that--
the fever breaks.