if you care to say your prayers
2.4k | gen | find it on ao3
Takes place during 1x12, “Faith”.
Dean says, “Jesus, Sam. You look like shit. Go get some sleep.”
Sam looks at Dean over his laptop screen. The only part of his brother with colour anymore are his lips, chapped from dehydration but still pink. Bruising purple around the edges from Sam’s attempts to resuscitate him in the long minutes before the ambulance showed up, concrete under his knees and water soaking his jeans and Dean going colder and colder with every set of chest compressions.
Sam doesn’t have the heart to argue, not when Dean is so certain he’s going to die. Besides, Sam’s laptop is low on battery and the charger is in his bag back at the motel.
“You’ll be okay until I get back?”
Dean tries his best at a cocky grin. It does little to hide that he’s shivering despite the layers of blankets and Sam’s hoodie tucked around him. The pallor of his face and the grey hollows around his eyes. The way his pale hands are folded listlessly against his chest, over the crisp hospital linens.
White and white and white.
“Sure thing, Sammy. Now get the fuck out of here.”