| Auryon F. ( @ 2008-12-08 21:05:00 |
|
|
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Current location: | in the 8th level of Hell; apparently I lie a lot. |
| Current mood: | |
| Current music: | "Lonely is the Night" -- Billy Squier |
| Entry tags: | drabble, fanfiction, prompt20, supernatural, supernatural100 |
[SPN] Lonely is the Night
Title: Lonely is the Night
Character/Pairing: Anna, Dean
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
supernatural100 's prompt deep
Words: 296
Disclaimer: I don't own anything resembling angels or demons or humans. Or Billy Squier. Also, 4.10 spoilers. FYI.
-------
The movements under the blankets were jerky and frantic, but it was still like watching it in slow motion. Everything was like that now, and the angel formerly known as Anna enjoyed it while she could.
She tilted her head and smiled slightly. She shouldn’t be here. Technically, she shouldn’t be anywhere, but what the hell. If there was anything she learned while she was human, it was that being witness to someone asleep was one of the little jewels in life you could take pleasure in – whether that joy came from later mockery or a personal leap of the heart.
She parked herself on Dean Winchester’s bed and stared unabashedly. Oh, but she would have loved to touch him again, just once. A soft hand on his shoulder, his neck – his hands, Anna could really only see them when they were on her shoulder blades, claiming her in a way she knew she’d never experience again.
But it was worth it. Even with destroying Alistair and his minions, and saving Dean and Sam, the best part about the whole thing was the look on Uriel’s face. If Anna was prone to mad cackles, she'd let one loose at the memory.
He shuffled under the covers again, twitched his hands like he was reaching for something, and Anna didn’t have to wonder what he was reaching for.
She wanted so badly to touch him; he was so far into his dreams (or nightmares) that he wouldn’t have noticed it. But that was part of the problem right there. She wanted him to notice, to need.
But he wouldn’t. Not really. Not with Sam alive and next to him and breathing.
And Anna, for all her human memories and selfishness, felt that it was better this way.
.
.
.