Demons (Supernatural Fan-fiction)

So much for getting that tattoo today

When Bobby and Dean came home, Cas and I had already brought Sam upstairs and I had tucked him into bed. Cas disappeared as soon as we heard the rusty old pickup truck engine pull up to the house.

I crawled into the bed next to Sam, curling up in a ball next to him, wishing for him to rub my back and tell me everything would be okay. I silently cried, hoping this was just a bad dream, and that I would wake up and Sam would be happy and healthy and everything would be fine.

I grabbed his left hand (I was laying on his right side) and pressed it against my cheek. I swear I felt him move his fingertips across my cheek. I sniffed, turning to him.

"S-Sam?" I sniffled, silent tears still trailing hot down my cheeks. I saw the corners of his mouth tug up slightly.

"Hey," he said, opening his eyes slightly. I sat up quickly and began to laugh quietly. Sam grabbed my shoulders and pulled my back down, setting my head on his shoulder.

I sat up again and kissed his forehead, now happy that he was going to live. Laying back down again, I asked him something.

"Promise me something, Sam," I asked.

"Okay, what is it," he replied hoarsely.

"Promise me that you won't leave me, no matter what," I whispered, looking up at him. He closed his eyes and smiled.

"I promise," he whispered, putting his hand on my back and drawing shapes. I smiled.

"So much for getting that tattoo today," I grinned. Sam laughed quietly.

"So much for it," he smiled. He gently moved his hand along my back, creating invisible shapes that only we could see; a square, a circle, a triangle.. We slowly drifted off into a deep slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sh!" the voice, most likely Dean's, whisper-screamed, "You'll wake them up!"

There was a quiet burp and a sound of a slap.

"Ow," someone slurred, obviously drunk. The thing is, that person sounded like Dean, too. I slowly opened my eyes and peeked around.

There stood Dean, watching Sam and I sleep, holding a bottle of vodka. I shifted, trying to get my foot closer to Dean. He flinched, but soon returned to his close-up position. I shifted again and kick him as hard as I could, right where the sun don't shine.

Dean groaned in pain, falling to the floor, clutching himself.

"I told you to shut up!" Dean whispered to himself. I groaned, annoyed with Dean. I sat up slowly, careful to not wake up Sam. I put my hands on my hips, sighing in disappointment. Dean cocked his head and smirked.

"What? Can't a guy get a drink in this joint?" he whisper-screamed.

"You've obviously had more than one drink," I mumbled, looking at the half empty bottle in his hand.

"C'mon," I said a bit louder, "up you get." I propped him up on my shoulder, guiding him across the hall to his bedroom. I sat him down on his bed, tucking him in and handing him a bottle of painkillers.

As I turned to walk back to my room, Dean grabbed my hand, keeping me from leaving. I sighed, turning to face Dean.

Dean sat up, looking at my face.

"You know, he really does love you," he said.

"Yeah, I know," I said, sighing exasperatedly and pulling away my hand.

"He might have some competition," he whispered, grabbing the back of my neck and kissing my lips roughly.

I gasped and my small fist connected with his cheek, making him let go of me so I could run out of the room. One thing was for sure: I would never look at Dean the same way again.