Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hasperkynipples) wrote2009-11-05 12:09 am
hasperkynipples) wrote2009-11-05 12:09 am
[MM] I'm too tired to sleep.
[Set in the Detective AU. Sam is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
likely_evil and used with permission from his mun who made a request for Dean and Sam future!fic with the prompt “quarters.” Jo is ironknifehunter and her I don’t have permission for, but I steal with love. ♥ ]
The insomnia started in prison. Long nights with a bunkmate who liked to beat the shit out of him followed by long nights all by himself in solitary just him staring at the walls and trying not to lose his mind. It was only four years, but those four years were enough to screw with his sleep process just enough. It was one of the main reasons why he drank—at least, one of the ones that he’d admit to—and added in his own mix of sleeping aids on top of it. Looking back on it now, he was lucky he didn’t kill himself with that stuff, but that was a whole other story.
Him getting sober wasn’t the problem. In fact, him getting sober was probably the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he was sticking with it. The problem with him being sober was that he hadn’t slept in three days and he was starting to doubt he ever would. It was two-thirty in the morning, there was nothing on TV, and he still wasn’t any closer to sleeping than he already was. He needed to do something. He just didn’t know what it was.
He switched off the TV for a moment, sitting in the silence of his apartment until he felt fingers itching for the cool feel of a glass under his palm and he reached for his phone instead. He knew that no one but his sorry ass was gonna be up at this time of night, but he was going to bother them anyway. Better than hating himself later for going out and finding a bottle of Jack to down. It wasn’t long before he stumbled across his brother’s number and was placing the phone to his ear. It rang three times before his brother’s sleep-heavy voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sammy.”
There was a long pause, and when his brother responded again, he was more angry than asleep. “Dean?”
“Yeah, who else would it be?”
“Who else would it be? Dean, it’s three in the morning.”
“I know, I know, I just—” Asking for help was still not one of his strong suits, but he was getting better at it with Sam. “—I can’t sleep.”
“So drink some warm milk and try and relax.”
“Yeah, I tried that two days ago,” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to relax more.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “You haven’t slept in three days?”
“Nope. And it’s not looking like that’s changing anytime soon.”
“Sam, who is it?”
“It’s Dean—Look, I don’t know what you want me to do?”
“—the hell, it’s three in the morning?”
“Just—come over for a bit. Make sure I don’t do anything—stupid?” He was damn near close to begging, and he really was hoping that Sam would get over there before he got to that point. That was the point of having a brother who was an addict wasn’t it? Calling them when you were feeling that urge to just take the easy way out.
There was a long pause and a heavy sigh. He could hear the hand Sam was running over his face before nodding. “Yeah, Dean. I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks, dude. I mean it.”
“Yeah, of course you do.”
***
“Your turn, Sammy.”
Sam sighed heavily before looking at the quarter in his hand. “I can’t believe we’re playing an actual drinking game.”
“Aw, c’mon, Sammy,” Dean sighed, letting his head rest on the crook of his arm while he waited for his brother to flip the quarter into one of the shot glasses in front of him. “Didn’t you ever play ‘I Never’ with Mountain Dew when you were in high school?” He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Then again, you were a geek in high school. Only action you ever got was when you took Jo to the prom.”
There was a long pause as the quarter flipped through the air and landed in one of the glasses in front of Dean. He paused for a moment, fishing out the quarter to take the shot, before getting ready to take his turn. His vision was starting to blur a little around the ages, but for once it wasn’t from booze. He was about to take the shot when he looked up at Sam again.
“Speaking of that, I never did ask—did you actually get any action that night, or did you just take her home at the end of the night like a good little boy?” He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his brother’s cheeks, before Sam shook it off.
“You sure that’s water in those shots?”
Dean smirked. “I take it that’s a no then.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up and take your turn.”
Dean did so with a bit of a laugh. “You know, jokes aside, I really am happy for you two. Seriously. You guys—you’re long haul.”
He could tell his brother was watching him carefully as he said that. “You think so, or did you reach the point where you’re delirious yet?”
“Hey!” he said softly, not bothering to lift his head from the crook in his arm, but pointing over at his brother. “I don’t get delirious.” Then there was a pause, as he closed his eyes. “Me and Cassie—we wouldn’t have worked if you had us both on house arrest and threatened to—murder small children or something but you two?” His sentence was cut off with a wide yawn before he settled in again. “You two are good for each other.”
“Thanks,” Sam said softly, so softly Dean could barely hear it. Though he wasn’t sure if that was because Sam was being quiet or it was that fuzzy feeling his head was getting. He could hear Sam saying other things too, but he wasn’t quite making them out. In fact, it was a few hard minutes of mumbling before there was a “Dean?” from his brother’s direction.
“Hmmm?”
The words weren’t making any sense again, and he was starting to get drop off further, slowly slipping into the fuzziness in his head. The last thing he remembered was a set of hands landing on his shoulders, and then there was nothing at all.
***
When Dean woke up in the morning, it was near two in the afternoon and he was on the couch. It was odd, waking up naturally from a good rest. He hadn’t had that in a while, and it was actually kind of refreshing. It wasn’t until he looked down at his watch and actually saw the time though, that he panicked, going for his badge and wallet on the coffee table, and stopping when he saw the note sitting on top of his badge.
I called Cas and let him know. Get some sleep, big brother.
- Sam
1165 words
likely_evil and used with permission from his mun who made a request for Dean and Sam future!fic with the prompt “quarters.” Jo is ironknifehunter and her I don’t have permission for, but I steal with love. ♥ ]The insomnia started in prison. Long nights with a bunkmate who liked to beat the shit out of him followed by long nights all by himself in solitary just him staring at the walls and trying not to lose his mind. It was only four years, but those four years were enough to screw with his sleep process just enough. It was one of the main reasons why he drank—at least, one of the ones that he’d admit to—and added in his own mix of sleeping aids on top of it. Looking back on it now, he was lucky he didn’t kill himself with that stuff, but that was a whole other story.
Him getting sober wasn’t the problem. In fact, him getting sober was probably the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he was sticking with it. The problem with him being sober was that he hadn’t slept in three days and he was starting to doubt he ever would. It was two-thirty in the morning, there was nothing on TV, and he still wasn’t any closer to sleeping than he already was. He needed to do something. He just didn’t know what it was.
He switched off the TV for a moment, sitting in the silence of his apartment until he felt fingers itching for the cool feel of a glass under his palm and he reached for his phone instead. He knew that no one but his sorry ass was gonna be up at this time of night, but he was going to bother them anyway. Better than hating himself later for going out and finding a bottle of Jack to down. It wasn’t long before he stumbled across his brother’s number and was placing the phone to his ear. It rang three times before his brother’s sleep-heavy voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sammy.”
There was a long pause, and when his brother responded again, he was more angry than asleep. “Dean?”
“Yeah, who else would it be?”
“Who else would it be? Dean, it’s three in the morning.”
“I know, I know, I just—” Asking for help was still not one of his strong suits, but he was getting better at it with Sam. “—I can’t sleep.”
“So drink some warm milk and try and relax.”
“Yeah, I tried that two days ago,” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to relax more.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “You haven’t slept in three days?”
“Nope. And it’s not looking like that’s changing anytime soon.”
“Sam, who is it?”
“It’s Dean—Look, I don’t know what you want me to do?”
“—the hell, it’s three in the morning?”
“Just—come over for a bit. Make sure I don’t do anything—stupid?” He was damn near close to begging, and he really was hoping that Sam would get over there before he got to that point. That was the point of having a brother who was an addict wasn’t it? Calling them when you were feeling that urge to just take the easy way out.
There was a long pause and a heavy sigh. He could hear the hand Sam was running over his face before nodding. “Yeah, Dean. I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks, dude. I mean it.”
“Yeah, of course you do.”
***
“Your turn, Sammy.”
Sam sighed heavily before looking at the quarter in his hand. “I can’t believe we’re playing an actual drinking game.”
“Aw, c’mon, Sammy,” Dean sighed, letting his head rest on the crook of his arm while he waited for his brother to flip the quarter into one of the shot glasses in front of him. “Didn’t you ever play ‘I Never’ with Mountain Dew when you were in high school?” He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Then again, you were a geek in high school. Only action you ever got was when you took Jo to the prom.”
There was a long pause as the quarter flipped through the air and landed in one of the glasses in front of Dean. He paused for a moment, fishing out the quarter to take the shot, before getting ready to take his turn. His vision was starting to blur a little around the ages, but for once it wasn’t from booze. He was about to take the shot when he looked up at Sam again.
“Speaking of that, I never did ask—did you actually get any action that night, or did you just take her home at the end of the night like a good little boy?” He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his brother’s cheeks, before Sam shook it off.
“You sure that’s water in those shots?”
Dean smirked. “I take it that’s a no then.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Shut up and take your turn.”
Dean did so with a bit of a laugh. “You know, jokes aside, I really am happy for you two. Seriously. You guys—you’re long haul.”
He could tell his brother was watching him carefully as he said that. “You think so, or did you reach the point where you’re delirious yet?”
“Hey!” he said softly, not bothering to lift his head from the crook in his arm, but pointing over at his brother. “I don’t get delirious.” Then there was a pause, as he closed his eyes. “Me and Cassie—we wouldn’t have worked if you had us both on house arrest and threatened to—murder small children or something but you two?” His sentence was cut off with a wide yawn before he settled in again. “You two are good for each other.”
“Thanks,” Sam said softly, so softly Dean could barely hear it. Though he wasn’t sure if that was because Sam was being quiet or it was that fuzzy feeling his head was getting. He could hear Sam saying other things too, but he wasn’t quite making them out. In fact, it was a few hard minutes of mumbling before there was a “Dean?” from his brother’s direction.
“Hmmm?”
The words weren’t making any sense again, and he was starting to get drop off further, slowly slipping into the fuzziness in his head. The last thing he remembered was a set of hands landing on his shoulders, and then there was nothing at all.
***
When Dean woke up in the morning, it was near two in the afternoon and he was on the couch. It was odd, waking up naturally from a good rest. He hadn’t had that in a while, and it was actually kind of refreshing. It wasn’t until he looked down at his watch and actually saw the time though, that he panicked, going for his badge and wallet on the coffee table, and stopping when he saw the note sitting on top of his badge.
I called Cas and let him know. Get some sleep, big brother.
- Sam
1165 words