"I Will"
Sam Winchester x Reader
This was based on Mitski's song, I just love her music so much.
Authors note: Suprise!! A comfort fic!! I haven't been doing the best lately, my mental health is really getting to me. I think writing this may help :) Beware of any writing mistakes, it's 4 am right now so criticism is welcomed. (silly hours for me) Non-specific reader and this one might be a little small.
Reblogs are appreciated!! <3
He was always so caring and lovely no matter what, you knew that.
However, something inside of you just ate at you for days, weeks even. It was different and difficult, causing the past to reel you back in. The 'What if' thoughts were consuming you once again.
What if that never happened to you? What if everything you went through was for nothing? What if this was the last week for you? What if you're just making it all up? What if.
The sadness was a persistent parasite, you wanted it out of you.
You were a little avoident and dismissive about it, throwing "Yep I'm good"'s at him.
He knew something was actually up with you, he attempted to try to fish it out of you.
You started to refuse to sleep in the same bed, if you did it would only be for a little bit before rising earlier than he did. You slept in the library or even the kitchen, your excuses with research and exhaustion weren't cutting it anymore.
He didn't do anything wrong, it was you being you.
He was finally able to corner you, catching you up in your lies.
You two were sitting in the impala, Dean in the store for some food on the ride home. You, in the backseat, pretending to be asleep so you could wiggle your way out of the tense situation.
"You're getting worse, I can see it. Please just talk to me, I will take good care of you."
You took a quiet deep breath to reject the tears.
You couldn't explain it to anyone out loud, it felt like an internalized argument with yourself.
An argument of upset and angry thoughts. You wanted help but the shame and bravery of asking for help was overwhelming to ignore.
His hand patiently reached for yours. It was warm and soothing. You ached for his love yet you couldn't bring yourself to embrace it.
"I'm sorry," is all you could mutter out. How could you explain to him?
Sorry Sam! The thoughts are getting worse and I'm not sure if I'll make it this time. I hope you can understand!
As if that was okay to tell him, it'll raise him to questions and concerns.
Dean came back to the car, putting an end to the situation. He was aware of how your mental state was, you weren't too hard to read.
He offered you food and you accepted it out of a hint of guilt if you didn't. You just placed the food next to you and watched the environment move when he backed out of the parking lot.
The drive was going normal, their normal brother bickering and silence. They were having a talk about the hunt you all got done with yesterday.
You decided to tune it all out, ruminating in your own world.
You thought of ways to tell him. Maybe you didn't need to, you could just lock it all away to eventually forget.
You started to feel a sense of dread building up in you so you attempted to sleep it off.
You woke up with soft whispers of your name, Sam's voice trying to wake you up.
Due to the lack of sleep and high alert you bolted up, sitting straight and facing him.
"We're here now, come inside so we can talk."
Those words made you feel small as a little kid would when they get in deep shit. You thought about it more, that's all you've been doing as of lately.
You got out of the car with Sam trailing behind you.
Dean must've been inside already, ready to booze and snooze.
The two of you just walked in the same tense atmosphere as before, making your way to your shared room.
He closed the door behind and immediately wrapped his arms around you in such a gentle way.
Obviously you couldn't help but sob in his care, you needed it so much. Repeating the words 'I'm sorry' to him over and over.
It never felt enough.
He never said anything during it, he understood sometimes you struggle. He played with your hair, guiding you to the bed to sit down with him.
"It's okay to feel this way", he replied to your aftermath of crying.
"I'm always here for you. I will always be here for you. There's no need to run and hide from it." The way he spoke to you in that tone, you wanted to melt in his love.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You shook your head still unsure of how to talk about it. He gave a simple nod and hugged you a little tighter before letting go.
"We should go clean up, we're dirty from that hunt."
Sam held your hand the entire time as he lead you to the showers.
You both stood in silence again, just appreciating each other while the water ran. You wished the peaceful intimate moments with him lasted forever.
The night ended with him holding you, the tense atmosphere now replaced with kindness and comfort.
"It's just getting really bad again, I just want it to stop."
"We can get through it together, please just stay with me for now."
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tim and bernard who break up and it's nothing big, no one cheated or anything. it's just their lifestyles didn't work out well together. tim cannot give up vigilantism currently and bear cannot handle the level of danger tim puts himself in. and on the other hand, tim cannot handle the fact that bear chooses to run into danger as an emt bc he already worries about everything but now he has to worry if he'll find his boyfriend convulsing from fear gas in a random alley but also bear who felt the life drain out of darla cannot stand the thought of not helping people and runs headfirst into dangerous situation after dangerous situation hoping that every person he saves can somehow make up for the fact that he could not save darla.
(he very pointedly does not think about the fact that there was nothing he could do because if he thinks about that, he'll spiral until they have to lock him in arkham too)
and so they break up but they were tim & bernard in high school and when they started dating they balanced out the worst of each other and they became tim&bernard. and everyone who knows them, knows that they're better together but they cant be together, they refuse actually because they cannot lose another person to the violence of gotham and by the time they figure out that they cant work together as long as the other is an emt or vigilante, it's too late for both them. they've already left too many pieces of themselves in each other.
tim still knows what bear means when he says "tim" in that exasperated voice. tim still goes boneless when he hears bear say "baby" in that firm tone. bear can still read tim like a book. he still knows the right way to massage tim's neck so that tim can go to sleep. everyone at the first responders gala knows not to bother ceo drake-wayne and senior emt dowd when they're talking.
(and if they're standing a little too close to each other than what is normal, who are they to judge? everyone knows that dowd and drake-wayne have history)
and if everyone on the night shift has caught red robin with his head tucked into the crook of emt dowd's neck as emt dowd runs a soothing hand up and down the vigilante's back, well then, they just quietly back away.
(after all, dowd's one of like, five, emts that can get the bats to receive medical treatment so if turning a blind eye to whatever the fuck they have going on is what allows them to give back to their heroes, then the night shift will do it every time)
and of course, tim and bear are practical people. they loved (love) each other sure, but when your lives are fundamentally incompatible, well, you cant get too stuck on the what-ifs, that's for sure. and so they do find love with other people and yeah, maybe it's not what they expected love to be when they first fell in love with each other. it's not the bubbly, stomach-swoopy, cant stop grinning, feeling that permeated tim&bernard's early days or the i Know you/you Know me that was their middle or the quiet despair that was their end but it is contentment. and in a life with as many losses as theirs, contentment is something they hold dearly
and they're happy! truly! but sometimes, at galas when they're making each other snort champagne out their noses or in darkened alleyways when their clothes are both stained with blood or at rallies for stricter gun regulations in gotham where they both sit too close to each other, fingers enclosed around each other in a death grip, when the presenters inevitably bring up grieves
(worst school shooting in gotham in decades, there's blood on their hands and blood in their mouths and darla is dead in between both of them and there is a chasm so wide that they are screaming to get their voices across and she will always be dead and maybe this had always been the problem that she is dead and there is no coming back from that and that there is blood on their hands and blood in their mouth and blood on their han-)
but sometimes, most especially on opposite sides of the street, as life pulls them in different directions, just sometimes, they see each other and just for a second, nothing too long, the flap of a hummingbird's wings, the time it takes to blink, an electron's orbital, they look at each other and for the briefest moment, blue on brown, a barely noticeable stutter in their steps, the space between heartbeats, because this is all they will give themselves because they do not dwell on what-ifs or what-could-have-beens, or what-should-have-beens, or delusions of a softer world, their eyes meet and they think to themselves, god, in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with him.
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