xylodemon: (Default)
xylodemon ([personal profile] xylodemon) wrote2016-02-11 03:58 pm

spn ficlet: noiseless

Dean (+ Amara) | gen | ~300 words

11x13 coda-lite.


It hadn't been quiet.

That had been his first clue that the Amara in that witch's basement wasn't real. The qareen had looked at Dean too coldly, and its movements had been to stiff, but before he'd noticed that he'd heard its footsteps. He'd heard the plastic sheeting brush its shoulder. He'd heard a car drive by outside.

The real Amara drowns all that out. Whenever she draws him into her orbit, everything else disappears. The world behind her blurs. An empty pressure rings in his ears. When she brought him to that field, everything had been quiet, so fucking quiet. No birds. No wind. No heartbeats. No anything.

He's ashamed of himself when he finally admits it. Heat crowds under his jaw, and a thick, rising feeling claws into his throat. He should be better than this. He should be stronger. When the hellhounds came, he'd been willing to fight. When Lucifer had stared him with with Sam's face, he'd stuck his chin out and kept talking. How he's useless, helpless. When Amara's around he can feel her tugging at him, like a hand pushed up underneath his ribs, pulling him down, dragging him under.

It isn't desire. He'd been terrified when she kissed him. A slow chill had crawled over his skin. He doesn't want to touch her. He just wants her to fill the empty space she's carved for herself in his chest. He just wants to hear the quiet.

"It's going to be okay," Sam tells him, as I-90 ribbons through the wheat-gold burn of western Ohio.

Dean clears his throat and mumbles, "Yeah."

He turns the radio up just to hear the noise.