Title: Let Darkness Unto Darkness Tell
Summary: Sam has to stop Dean before he can hurt anyone else. But will he be able to?
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: Gen mixed with a little AU. This takes place after season three ends, but has no spoilers for season four.
Spoilers: Anything up to season three.
Disclaimers: If I owned Supernatural? Well, I don't. Just for fun, no profits.
----------------------------------------
Sam was still trying to work through the fact that he had just had a vision as he neared the alley. He thought those had died with the Yellow Eyed Demon. Sam slowed as he saw the alley Dean and the hunters had gone through up ahead.
He knew Dean was somewhere close. He could feel him.
Turning the corner into the alley he gagged at the strong scent of blood. The pathetic light coming in from the street did little to illustrate the artwork Dean had left.
“Dean?” Sam called softly into the darkness. He was shaking but the air around him was warm and humid.
The two hunters lay several yards apart. Both in pools of their own blood. From what Sam could see one had a sliced throat, something that seemed to be quickly becoming Dean’s signature. The other, Sam couldn’t tell. But it looked horrific.
“You wanted me here Dean, here I am.” Sam said to the darkness. He waited; he knew Dean was here somewhere.
“Did you know when I was younger and you were what? I think you were about five.” Dean stepped from behind the dumpster, still covered in blood both his own and the dead at their feet. He was using a rag to wipe some of it off him as he spoke. “It was around the same time you finally stopped wetting the bed. Anyways, I would get scared at night. I knew what was out there and it terrified me. I told dad this much.”
Dean was several yards away now, standing over one of the hunters. He was staring down at the corpse as he scrubbed hard at the blood on his arm. He gave a noise of disgust and finally gave up, throwing the rag away.
Sam remained silent, listening to his brother speak. He wanted so bad for Dean to be able to justify all this. He wanted to forgive him and have his brother back. And to tell the truth, he just wanted to be near him and try to pretend none of this horror ever happened. But reality and the stench of blood swirled around him.
“Do you want to know what he told me? He told me not to be afraid of the dark. Of course, that was a little hard. So he told me, he told me to make myself the scariest thing in it then handed me a blade. Told me to stick it under my pillow.”
Sam thought to the Bowie Dean had always slept with. Dean had had a knife of some sort under his pillow for as long as Sam could remember. Sam understood exactly why Dean had it, but he had never known this to be the origin.
“I felt a lot better Sam, it worked and sleeping came easier. I wasn’t as afraid. Don’t you get it Sam? This is how we can finally be safe. Finally stop being afraid. We can be the scariest things in the dark.”
“What you mean is that you want us, you want me, to be a monster.” Sam croaked out, his voice rough. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“No. Yes. God damn it Sam. I just want you to be safe!” Dean scrubbed at his face, frustrated and tired. “Look, I’m sorry Sam. You were right, back then. I should have left hunting behind when you asked. Maybe none of this would have happened. But I can’t change that. All I want is you Sam; I want us to be a family again. And you know as well as I do that we can’t go back to the way things were. Things have to change.”
“We could have got past Hell together Dean, somehow! But you went and you killed people! Murdered them. How are we supposed to get past that? No one will leave us alone now.” Sam’s voice rose with every sentence, his trembling was visible now. He was breaking apart inside.
“Why did you have to do that, what did they do to you? Some of them were our friends!” Sam cried.
He swallowed, his head was swimming. He wanted to understand, but he couldn’t. And he was running out of excuses on why he hadn’t ended this already. His brother, every time he saw his brother he grew more and more conflicted. He was beginning to think he wouldn’t be able to stop Dean. He was going to fail him again. Dean needed to be stopped and Sam didn’t think he could be the one to do it anymore.
“Do you really think other hunters would have sat by after hearing some Hell bound soul got out? I don’t think so. Especially the older brother to a rumored psychic, one who may have been some kind of demonic leader had things played differently. Sam, we are the brothers who opened the gate to Hell.”
Sam just stared at Dean. He felt so exhausted, so drained. Dean kept talking.
“The hunting? Fighting evil? All it ever did was tear us apart! It got us killed. But we can’t leave this life. You tried. It just hunts us down again. We’ll never be safe. Sam…I wish I could explain it better.”
“Dean…” Sam started, but Dean waved his hand. He was moving farther away now, into the shadows.
“I have to go, I’m getting that present ready I told you about.”
“Dean!” Sam called, but Dean was gone.
- Mood:
tired - Music:Saliva - After Me
Summary: Sam has to stop Dean before he can hurt anyone else. But will he be able to?
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: Gen mixed with a little AU. This takes place after season three ends, but has no spoilers for season four.
Spoilers: Anything up to season three.
Disclaimers: If I owned Supernatural? Well, I don't. Just for fun, no profits.
"I sought my soul, but my soul I could not see. I sought my God, but my God eluded me. I sought my brother and I found all three."
----------------------------------------
Dean sat at the bar, admiring one of the slender brunettes serving beer to the patrons. The man sitting next to him wasn’t enjoying himself as much, the drink in front of him untouched.
“So Sam isn’t on our side yet, I take it. We need him if you want them to follow you.” The man was in his early forties and a little on the pudgy side. Probably an accountant or some other desk job jockey.
“You need to remember it is him you will be following. I’m just setting this up. He is the special one. Always has been. And you’ll see that for yourself soon enough.”
The man couldn’t sit still; he was uncomfortable out in the open. He knew there were hunters after Dean, and hunters for the most part were not stupid. They’d see him for what he was.
Dean was getting sick of it, and starting to think he had picked the wrong demon. Taking another shot, he looked at the empty glass wistfully. It seemed to take a hell of a lot more of this stuff these days to get him buzzed.
“What do we do about Lilith? She isn’t just going to sit by and have a tea party while we do this.”
The man dabbed the sweat on his face with a napkin, and grinned at Dean.
“We don’t have to worry about her right now. She went into hiding after you came back and started stirring up trouble.”
Dean sat a little straighter and toyed with his empty glass. Where was the waitress?
“Why?” he asked, “She is one hell of a big player in all of this. She wants Sam dead, has her own plans.”
“When you sent me out, got me spreading the word? She lost a lot of followers when the others saw their boy king might get in the game on their side this time. Azazel had had a lot of them under his thumb. Then when you started killing those hunters?” The man whistled; he had been there for a few of them. He had watched Dean in action with his own eyes.
“Even more left her side. Her little army has dwindled in numbers while in a short time. She had no choice; you have a ring of demons between her and Sam now. She doesn’t know who to trust.”
This made Dean a very happy man, there was now even less to worry about. And these demons had already benefited his family, they were keeping Sam safe whether he knew it or not.
“Still, she is going to have to be one of the first things we deal with.” Dean turned his shot glass upside down and slid it away from him, trying to draw attention that he was ready for another. The demon next to him was still glancing around nervously, had been the whole time and it had finely struck a nerve.
“Go. Get on with it. You’re starting to make me antsy. Talk to others, find more who will follow your ‘boy king’.” Dean pulled the man’s untouched drink closer to him. “Get!”
The demon slid off the stool and left the bar quickly, nearly colliding with the pretty waitress. Once outside, to take precautions, it left its dead meat suit in the alley way.
Back in the bar the hairs on the back of Dean’s neck raised, but looking around he saw no one but drunks and college kids. Which made him think of Sam. Which reminded him Sam was not by his side where he should be. Dean groaned and finally flagged down the waitress.
“Do you guys make purple nurples?”
----------------------------------------
Sam had gone to bed, he wasn’t sure if the others had or not yet. It had quieted down though; the arguing from the other room had stopped. He was trying his best to go to sleep, but the dinner he had managed to get down was not settling well in his stomach. He had too much on his mind; he couldn’t stop thinking about Dean long enough for sleep to claim him.
So he laid there, staring at the ceiling. That is when it happened, his head exploded and he ground his fists into his eyes. The pain was intense as the vision slammed into him.
Dean left a bar and Sam could see the name, Harvey’s Bar & Grill. He was alone, head down and lost in thought. Two men exited the bar after him. Sam guessed it was Mike and Thomas, he had met them briefly a week or so before but hadn’t seen much of them since then.
Dean turned down an alley, oblivious to the danger behind him. Sam wasn’t sure if in his mind he wanted to find a way to warn him or if he should wish the hunters succeeded. One of them, Thomas maybe, raised a gun just as Dean turned around. A muffled shot rang and Dean grunted and jerked back a step. He looked down at his chest to see blood slowly staining his shirt.
“No!” Sam cried out, tears flowing freely as he was forced to watch his brother die.
Dean stumbled back a few more steps, his hand going to his wound and coming away covered in blood, like he couldn’t believe this had happened. The hunters advanced towards Dean. Both had guns raised now.
Sam sobbed, helpless. He felt like he was being torn apart, watching his brother die again. This time he wasn’t even there for Dean. Sam didn’t know if this was something happening now, or was going to happen. For all he knew Dean was already dead. He couldn’t stop it.
Dean stumbled backwards into a dumpster, leaning against it for support. He was breathing hard and came out ragged, blood spilled from his lips to fall at his feet. It was like that cabin and the Yellow Eyed Demon all over again.
“That was for our friends you son of a bitch, and we are going to send you back to Hell where you belong.”
Dean’s look grew even more panicked at the mention of Hell and he let out a soft whimper. Sam ached to save him from this.
Then Sam could hear a soft metallic ring, barely audible. Dean must have heard it too, he looked down and the hunter’s gaze followed. There on the ground in front of Dean was a bloody and spent bullet. Dean stared at it in disbelief.
The hunters weren’t stupid, and both fired into him again, but Dean’s recovery time was even quicker now. It was like his body was learning a new trick and trying to perfect it.
“What are you?” one of them asked, backing away from Dean.
“I don’t know yet.” Dean answered and then fixed them with a feral grin, his teeth bloody. He went toward them swiftly, pulling out a long dagger as he moved.
The vision flashed to sometime soon after, Dean stood over a bloody corpse.
“Sammy? I need to talk to you.”
-------------------------------------
**Authors note: Please let me know what you think, whether bad or good. Keep writing or no?
It is a WIP so I can always make changes. And personally I love it when people try to predict the ending.
- Mood: tired
- Music:Already Over - Red
Summary: Sam has to stop Dean before he can hurt anyone else. But will he be able to?
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: Gen mixed with a little AU. This takes place after season three ends, but has no spoilers for season four.
Spoilers: Anything up to season three.
Disclaimers: If I owned Supernatural? Well, I don't. Just for fun, no profits.
"Other things may change us, but we start and end with family."
-Anthony Brandt
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Dean had made his way from the warehouse, keeping to the shadows in case some lucky hunter stumbled on him. He wasn’t sure how many had answered the call to take down a Winchester, but thanks to his father’s temper, probably quite a few didn’t mind the idea.
All of Dean’s careful planning depended on Sam, and Dean’s ability to predict his brother’s actions. Dean needed Sam to cross that line he is so afraid of and join him by his side. Sam had stepped so close to that line already. Dean had always been there to pull him back, keep him steady. He had been Sam’s conscious. Well, Dean wasn’t behind him anymore. He was on the other side of that line, beckoning for Sam to join him.
Dean had had time to think, time to realize the truth from a whole new prospective. His whole life he had wanted to keep his family together, that was all he had ever needed. His dad’s desire for revenge, his own desire for revenge, it had been what tore them apart. Sam had left that life and Dean should have gone with him. He should have seen before that their father had been a lost cause. All Dean had wanted was his family but in the end he had chosen to let the one piece of it he loved the most walk away. That had been his fork in the road, and the path he had chosen turned out to be the wrong one.
Well, you can’t go back and undo the past. Or, at least, Dean hadn’t figured out how to. So Dean had figured out a way to get Sam back and keep him there. It was risky, and he wasn’t an idiot. There was a chance that Sam would not join him. He also knew the moment he killed Bobby what that would bring. And then with the others? He had declared war on hunters.
Dean felt a pang of grief before it was shoved away and forgotten. Bobby had to die, Dean had to set this into motion somehow. If he hadn’t then it would have just been more hunting and eventually another Winchester would have died. He couldn’t risk that being Sam, a man only had one soul to give and his was more than just tarnished now.
Dean had come up with a plan that if it worked, would keep them safe. Keep them together not only for the rest of their lives, but for all eternity. And as a bonus, Dean could give the world a second chance if only he could get Sam by his side. Wipe it clean and start over.
“Ruby. I know you’re out there bitch.”
“Aw, Dean. What a way to greet your sister.”
“We aren’t family. I’m not like you.”
“Close enough. So I think I’ll just call you cousin. I’m guessing Sam didn’t want to play?”
Ruby walked out from behind a truck, all confidence. She was in a new meat suit now, but still one hot blonde. Oh how Dean wanted to wipe the tar from the ground with that smug face of hers.
“What do you want?”
Ruby laughed, and arms crossed she walked closer.
“Welcome to the game Dean, and our play toy? Well he’s my little puppet Dean, you can’t have him. I’ll go to him. Help him try yet again to save you, make you all better. And when he fails I’ll be there to pick up the pieces and put them back the way I want them.”
Dean growled low in his throat, and Ruby faltered a step. Dean wasn’t the same; that she knew. But like Sam, she wasn’t quite sure what else he was. Oh, he had always been dangerous. But now? Ruby wasn’t as sure of herself as she had been.
Dean didn’t say anything, but he could feel the rage building. It was pressing to get out, pushing against the seams. And Dean? Dean let it out.
Snarling he launched himself at Ruby, tackling her to the ground. He was fast, even faster than before and it took Ruby by surprise. He straddled her and just let go. Blow after blow, leaving her stunned and a crumpled heap on the ground. Getting low, right in her face he pulled out the knife he had gotten from Sam and put it to her throat.
“Ruby.”
She groaned in pain, face bloody. It was already swelling from the beating Dean had put to it.
He could see her try to focus and when she finally registered the cold metal pressing on her throat her eyes shot to jet black. A reflection of the burned soul that resided inside this girl.
“Good. Didn’t want you to miss anything.” Dean purred, satisfied with the look of horror and disbelief from the demon below him. He leaned forward, putting more weight behind him and drew the knife across her throat. She erupted beneath him, back arching as blue wires of whatever-that-was started at the wound and sparked across her body. She sizzled, then burned out. If Dean had cared, he might have seen the bit of humanity that surfaced in her eyes as Ruby died and the poor girl beneath him became more aware. But she was dead quickly and Dean just couldn’t be bothered with the little things.
Panting, Dean wiped at the blood on his face but only succeeded in painting it more. There was too much blood on his hands. Sitting back on his haunches he stared down at the dead demon, still sparking.
“Finally. I wondered what it would take to shut you up.”
They were gathered at the table in one of the dead hunter’s cabins. There were four of them, including Sam. Two more were out looking for any sign of Dean Winchester.
These were the friends of Bobby’s and Ellen’s and the other fallen hunters that knew about the deaths so far and had joined the hunt. More were sure to come as the word spread that they were all being hunted down, and by someone who would know how to find them.
“You lost the knife! Who knows what the hell your brother turned into? How do we even know a bullet can stop him?” A hunter only a little older then Dean had been going at him for a few minutes now. Sam had just let him, he was only half listening anyways. “We gave you your ten minutes. Next time, we all go in and end this. Anymore blood? That is on your hands.”
The other two hunters said nothing, just added their silent agreement. Sam sat up a little straighter and rubbed at his temples. He was getting a headache.
“I’ll be ready next time and we can end this.” Sam stated flatly, and hoped he actually meant it.
“But how do we find him? We are always two steps behind him.” One of the more quiet hunters spoke up this time. Sam thought his name might be Riley.
“Sam.” The same hunter that had been riding him a few moments before, “Sam is his weakness. We can use that to our advantage somehow to get to him.”
“You're my weakness…”
Sam’s head buzzed as he recalled words Dean had spoken before.
“…and I'm yours.”
Sam took a long swallow from the drink in front of him, and while the others planned he drifted back inside himself, thinking of Dean. Trying to figure out what to do.
One of the hunters had moved to the window and was looking out into the darkness, a frown on his face.
“Has anyone heard from Mike or Thomas recently?”- Mood:
giddy
Summary: Sam has to stop Dean before he can hurt anyone else. But will he be able to?
Rating: PG-13?
Genre: Gen mixed with a little AU. This takes place after season three ends, but has no spoilers for season four.
Spoilers: Anything up to season three.
Disclaimers: If I owned Supernatural? Well, I don't. Just for fun, no profits.
"You think you can kill your own brother? Well then, go ahead. Pull the trigger."-Dean
**This is a test run. I have written more and already have what isn't written mapped out, but I want to make sure people actually want to read it before I take up any more space on the communities.
----------------------------------------
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“I know Sammy. I’m sorry. You know I would have come to you, but I was busy.”
Sam had to swallow back bile as the images of just what Dean had been busy doing resurfaced. He couldn’t figure out whether to push it back or embrace it, take from it the strength he would need.
“I’ve been a lot busier than you think brother.”
Dean stood before him in the shadows of the warehouse, only feet away. A grin was on his face, but not one full of malice like Sam would have expected. Just a man happy to see his little brother.
“Dean, I can’t let you keep doing this. It has to stop. I have to stop you.”
Dean’s smile faded, and once again Sam was surprised. Nothing but a thoughtful expression replaced it, one full of…doubt. Where was the Dean he had come to stop? Where was this evil killer he had witnessed the aftermath of?
Shaking his head to clear it, Sam made the choice to embrace the images of his fallen friends. Bobby. Ellen. Jo. And at least three other hunters that he knew about. All were left battered, bloody, and dead. All fell by Dean’s hand.
“I’m doing this for us, for you. We won’t have to be afraid anymore Sam! Don’t you see that? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry it had to be our friends…but I couldn’t let them live. They would only try to stop us. They would try and turn you against me Sam.”
As Dean had spoke, he had moved closer and Sam found himself revolted yet at the same time, he just wanted to hold his brother. But this Dean in front of him was not the Dean he knew.
“I know what your thinking Sam. That I’m a demon. But we already got through that, you know it isn’t true. I was in Hell, yes. I was in Hell too long, but not long enough. I’m not a demon. I’m not like Meg, I’m not even like Ruby. I just…I see things clearer now Sam.”
Sam had never been more conflicted in his life. Dean was not Dean, he knew that. He had seen the aftermath, heard the stories from the few that had lived long enough to name the killer. Yet here was his brother, no sign of the murderer he was said to be. Sam could say nothing, could do nothing. He was frozen with indecision. Dean took another step forward till he was right before Sam. Sam’s whole vision was filled with his brother. Dean even smelled as he always had.
“Look at me Sammy!” Dean pleaded. “Please, Sam.”
Sam struggled with himself before finally taking his gaze from over Dean’s shoulder to look him in the eyes. Sam choked, holding back a cry.
“Dean…please…” Sam was trembling. Here was Dean in front of him, and he felt the same as before. Sam had been ready for a Dean totally lost to him, insane, evil…but here what he got was only his brother.
“You killed them Dean, you had no reason…you killed them in cold blood.” Sam whispered, and then louder, “You’re a murderer Dean, a monster.”
Dean grabbed Sam by the shirt then and spun him around violently, shoving him hard into a pillar.
“I am your brother! I died for you! I went to Hell for you Sammy! Everything I have ever done was for you.” it came out though clenched teeth, “I damned myself, I bled and I burned and all of it for you!”
Sam turned his head turned away, almost submissive in the face of such sudden rage.
“I know, I’m sorry Dean. I’m sorry…” Sam shook under Dean’s grip, suppressing sobs. Dean’s grip loosened, his fists turned into palms that laid gently on his brother’s chest.
“I tried to save you, I couldn’t. I’m sorry.” Sam couldn’t hold it in, and his whole body was consumed by sobs. Dean supported Sam as his legs grew weak, letting Sam lean into him.
“I was too late…I was too late. Oh god Dean I’m sorry…” Sam nearly collapsed to the ground. It was too much. All that had happened and here was his brother. Sam couldn’t think, and with his brother right here in front of him he found it hard to suppress the horrible idea that what Dean had done…maybe it was okay with Sam as long as he could keep Dean.
“Shh…Sammy I got you. I’m right here. I’m right here and I swear to you I won’t leave you. We won’t ever have to be apart again.” Dean held Sam up, hugging him tightly and just breathing in everything Sam.
“Dean…” Sam whispered, he was gaining control of himself again, and he had made a choice he didn’t think he’d be able to live with. There was no saving Dean. He would be hunted down for what he had done, and God only knew what he still had planned. He would never be safe. Sooner or later some ruthless hunter would find Dean and Sam could not imagine that, Dean once again dying brutally because Sam had not been strong enough to do what had to be done.
Sam’s hand slid carefully to the knife they had gotten from Ruby the day everything happened, hidden in the small of his back. He still wasn’t sure just what Dean was, so he had to be sure that this wouldn’t be dragged on.
“Dean, I can’t let them find you.” Sam whispered. Dean took a step back, concern still on his face. His hands now rested on each of Sam’s shoulders gently.
“It doesn’t matter Sam. Nothing has ever truly been a match for us. You even brought me back from Hell. And soon there won’t even be enough Hunters to make a difference.” Dean moved his hands off Sam’s shoulders and took a step back, giving him space.
Sam swallowed hard, and once again refused to look Dean in the face. He was focusing on thoughts of Bobby. A man that had been like a father to them both. He had been the first Dean had gone to after Sam rose him. Bobby had been found in his own Devil’s Trap and tied to a chair. A mirror of where Meg had once sat, of a time when Sam got to see just how torn apart and ruthless Dean could get when his family was threatened. Dean must have wanted something from him, because before slicing Bobby’s throat he had tortured him. Dean had tortured and murdered Bobby Singer.
Sam gripped the handle of the knife and pulled it out, aiming for Dean’s chest all in one fluid movement Dean himself had taught Sam. Maybe that was his mistake. And later he would wonder if he had done it on purpose.
Dean caught Sam’s wrist, the knife centimeters from his chest. His grip was fierce, and sent Sam to his knees. Once there, Dean backhanded him, sending him sprawling.
Picking up the knife, Dean studied it for a moment before tucking it away on his own body.
“That may come in handy Sam, thanks for the gift.” Dean kneeled by Sam, whose senses were just coming back to him.
“I’m sorry I had to do that. I don’t want to fight you, you have to understand that. You’ll see that all of this is for you, for us.”
Dean looked up towards where Sam had entered the warehouse and frowned, then turned his gaze back to Sam.
“You’re not hurt bad. And it seems your friends have found us. We’ll talk again soon Sammy, I have to go. I have more work to do.” Dean looked up again as the sounds of the other hunters came closer.
“I have a present for you. You’ll love it.” Dean rose from his side and moved into the darkness.
“I’ll drop you a line later Sam.”
- Mood:
curious - Music:The Beginning of The End of The Beginning
Title: Fallen Angels
Author: lynleeg
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen mixed with AU, I suppose. This is one little take of what could have happened after season three ended.
Spoilers: Anything up to season three.
Disclaimers: Just borrowing.
“Hey there Sammy.”
“It’s…”
“Sam. I know. Only big brother Dean calls you Sammy. But how much longer do you think he is going to be your brother?”
“Shut up, you don’t know him.”
“No. I don’t know him. But what I do know? I know Hell, Sam. I’ve been there, I know what it does. No matter how strong and stoic your Dean is, he won’t be your Dean much longer. The only way you can save him now is to do what I tell you to.”
Sam growled deep in his throat. He was sick of her. Dean had told him how many times that she was bad news? How many times did Dean warn him?
And how many times had she said she could help him save Dean?
She had made an offer that she had failed to fulfill. An offer that had steadied the Colt; nestled in the waistband against the small of his back. One of the few comforts he had left.
Samuel Winchester had lost his mother. Samuel Winchester had lost his father.
And three days ago, Samuel Winchester had lost his brother.
Sam already knew what Ruby was going to ask of him. And Sam was going to do exactly what she wanted him to.
Only thing was, Sam wasn’t going to let Ruby stick around to see where that led.
Sam reached his arm around and felt for that comforting cool metal.
Sam reached for the Colt.
Oh God, oh god it hurt so bad. It ripped through his soul, on fire from the pain. He couldn’t think, and all he could feel was that pain.
It burned right through him. He couldn’t focus on anything else. He couldn’t even remember what it was to not hurt.
Bobby couldn’t meet those eyes. It was like there was nothing there he knew. He had never had a child, but he was pretty sure his love for this boy was as close as he would get to a father’s love for his son. But those eyes, they were so full of rage and pain and guilt, it was burning away everything he loved. And he had to stop it.
But he couldn’t.
However, he knew what Sam was planning and he could at least stop him. He couldn’t save Dean. He couldn’t save Sam.
But at least he could save everyone else.
He turned away from Sam, he couldn’t meet those eyes. Couldn’t face what he saw there.
Under the stack of papers and notes in front of him was the way to save Samuel Winchester from himself, and the world from Samuel Winchester.
This would be the hardest thing he ever did. Bobby wasn’t ready for this, but he didn’t have a choice. He reached under the papers and turned to face the unsuspecting Sam quickly, gun raised.
Only he found that Samuel was ready for him.
It was like a climax he couldn’t reach, this pain. It just built and built but there was no end to it, no peak. It just got worse. It was driving him mad. And he just knew it would never end. Never...
Ellen didn’t consider herself a hunter. She left that to those who had nothing else to lose. She had made the choice that John Winchester hadn’t been able to. She had chosen to let go. To live for the family that was still living, for those who still needed her.
The phone call from a terrified Jo had changed all of that.
Hearing Jo scream, Ellen was a Hunter.
Rushing through the door of her daughter’s apartment she was not ready for what she found.
She didn’t even have time to react properly. Didn’t even get a good look at what was left. And maybe that was a blessing.
Ellen was too busy, having found herself experiencing an odd sensation. She was flying.
But that surprise was soon followed by a bone jarring crash into a wall that sent plaster crumbling to the floor.
Her world slowly coming back into focus she found herself staring into the eyes of a frightening Sam Winchester that couldn’t possibly be the Sam she knew.
“Christo.” She choked out, trying to find reason behind this madness. Sam chuckled, his eyes remained brown.
“I really wish I had managed to get a handle on this before, and stopped Jo got that phone call out. I really do Ellen.”
“Sam…Sam why?” she gasped.
“I needed practice.”
She cried, stuck there against the wall. She cried for Dean. For Bobby. For herself. And she cried even harder as she cried for her baby girl.
“Please, Sam…tell me why are you doing this…”
She knew the answer to that question though, already. They both did, so Sam didn’t even bother answering.
Please…please…please…please…his coherent thoughts had turned into a mantra begging for release.
But there was no mercy. Never would there be mercy, never relief. This he had become certain of.
He couldn’t remember peace, couldn’t remember…too much…too much pain…
He couldn’t remember anything but this…but that did not make it any easier...
The Winchesters protected and saved the innocents. And when they couldn’t do that, they at least stopped what had caused the suffering in the first place.
Those that knew the Winchesters felt blessed to know them. Those who faced the Winchesters, well, often they didn’t really feel anything anymore.
That was their legacy. The family business.
All this born out of the desire to avenge a fallen angel.
All those lives saved by a purpose molded from love.
Samuel Winchester had been six months old when a path had been chosen for him.
He was twenty-five when he chose his own.
He was ready, he was going to go to Hell and back for his family.
Literally.
And he didn't care what it took or how much damage it caused.
All of this born out of the desire to save a fallen angel.
All these lives to be sacrificed for a purpose molded from love.
There was only madness.
Humanity was burned out of them.
Just like Ruby had said.
Burned out of them all.
Dean’s soul was burned and black like ash.
Dean’s soul could not remember mercy, or love, or peace…couldn’t remember anything.
Pain and suffering…painpainpain was all it knew.
There was no more Dean Winchester, son of John and Mary.
But suddenly, what was once Dean; It felt something It hadn’t in what seemed like eternity.
It felt…nothing…
There was no pain.
“…Dean? Oh God…Dean…please, open your eyes. Don’t let this all be for nothing…please…”
That Voice… It knew that Voice.
“Please Dean, for me…open your eyes…”
This Voice, this Voice that It knew had just given It relief. Showed It mercy. Took away the pain…and as It opened It’s eyes and locked them with the Voice that now had a face…those eyes met It with a love unmatched by any other.
The boy kneeling over him suddenly fell back and started sobbing, great body wracking sobs. Panicked by this, It sat up quickly and without knowing why... It hugged him. Shushing and rubbing the boy’s back. The boy hugged It back just as hard, still crying.
And suddenly all It wanted to do was protect this boy who had pulled It out of the fire…and It knew anything that got in the way of this would have to be destroyed.
And though It knew nothing else, It realized at that moment It really did know this boy.
“Sammy, shh…” Dean soothed, still rubbing Sam’s back gently, trying to comfort him. “I’m here. I’m right here and I’ll never leave you again, I promise…”
There was no more Dean Winchester, son of John and Mary.
But there was Dean Winchester, brother to the Boy That Would Be King.
- Mood:
crazy
Title: If I Should Die, Think Only This Of Me
Author: lynleeg
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Best Know About That Pesky Deal. This Takes Place After The Deal But Before The Payment.
Disclaimers: Just borrowing.
Summary: On a cool morning between hunts, Dean has too much time to think.
There are as many nights as days, and the one is just as long as the other in the year's course. Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word 'happy' would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.
-Carl Jung
Dean had always known he wasn’t going to grow old, that he wasn’t going to have two point five kids and die from natural causes. Dean wouldn’t get a happy ending and retire peacefully with a pension. No, those with the job like his didn’t go that way. They went young and they went violently.
Now tell me, how is that fair?
For awhile, Dean just laid there listening to his brother’s breathing from the other bed. Sam’s breath was deep and even, and it relaxed Dean some to know his little brother was getting some rest. The night before Sam and Dean had gone on a hunt and both had been beaten up a little, so he was fairly sure Sammy would sleep for a while longer. Sitting up in bed he rubbed his eyes and winced as he heard his spine realign loudly. God his back was sore. It seemed that he was always sore these days, always tired.
Of course, he didn’t let Sam know this.
Dean got up and dressed quietly, skipping the hot shower he craved. He didn’t want to risk waking Sam, not yet. As Dean tugged on his jacket he could tell Sammy was deep in a dream and from the slight smile on his face, for once it was not a nightmare.
Walking outside the air was crisp and chilly and Dean was glad he had put on a jacket. He pulled the door shut as quiet as possible. He stood in the parking lot, in need of some fresh air to clear his head of the dreams from the night before. The grass in the empty plot next to the hotel still glistened with the morning dew, and an older man ran by with his dog close on his heels.
Dean wasn’t sure, if at moments like these he cherished the peace or hated that he couldn’t experience it the same as most. To him, this was a reprieve while to others it was just another day. To him this morning was a victory to be celebrated, because the Winchester sons had survived yet another hunt and came out mostly on top. To him this morning was a victory short lived because in their world nothing was certain.
Dean made his way to the Impala, absent mindedly running his fingers along the smooth, cool sides. The streets in this small town were still quiet and aside from the old man, deserted. Everyone nestled snug in their beds.
Dean had left the keys inside, so he leaned against the hood, his eyes not really focusing on anything. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a worn picture. He didn’t need to look at it; he just wanted to hold it. He and his mother and his father and little baby Sammy. His family together and whole, smiling warmly. Safe.
Dean couldn’t remember the dream he had woken up from, just the feelings it had left behind and thoughts of his mother. It wasn’t hard for Dean to remember her, he thought about her too often for that to happen. A day did not pass in which Dean Winchester didn’t recall what memories of her he still had that were not tainted with fire.
The memory of his mother’s smile could still warm his heart, even for a moment, and help drive him through the day. If he closed his eyes and concentrated hard enough he could still take comfort in the memory of her scent. When he was younger his father had been afraid that Dean would forget what little he knew from the short four years of life he had spent with his mother. There had been no need for his dad to worry like that though, there was no way he could forget her.
Shutting his eyes Dean swallowed hard, trying to bite back the sudden rush of panic he had been fighting for months now. Thinking of his mother…enough time had passed that the anger of being robbed of her didn’t immediately drown the other emotions she brought out in him. He had gotten to the point, up until a few months ago, where he could just think of her and feel only love.
Taking deep breaths he steadied himself.
Before, he had taken solace in knowing he may get to see her again. But now, he knew his chances of ever seeing his mother again grew dimmer with each passing day. His life had began again when she died, took a different and darker path. He just wished in the end that path hadn’t gotten her lost to him forever.
But nowhere in Dean Winchester’s soul did he regret, even for a moment, making the choice that damned him and saved his little brother. Keeping that last piece of his family safe, it was worth anything.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to keep the oncoming headache at bay. He couldn’t stop the flow of thoughts going through his head. With the most recent hunt wrapped up yesterday and no new one to investigate, he didn’t have any distractions and suddenly…all he wanted was his parents. He wanted to be four years old again, kissing his baby brother good night and then being tucked lovingly into bed by his parents. He wanted to have that night again, without the nightmare that followed.
“Dean?” came Sam’s voice from behind him. Startled, Dean took a moment to compose himself before turning to his brother. He hadn’t heard the door to the room open, but by the time he faced Sam he had a patented Dean Winchester smile on his face.
“Finally decide to join the living Sammy?” Dean noticed Sam had their bags. Sammy must have thought since Dean was already out by the Impala that he wanted to leave early. That worked for him, though he remembered wistfully the hot shower he had passed up. Sam unlocked the trunk and tossed the bags inside.
“Lets go get breakfast Dean. I’m starving.”
Dean stretched and caught the keys to the Impala as Sam tossed them to him, sliding behind the wheel of his baby.
“You’re always hungry.” Dean turned on the car, smiling as it roared to life. The neighborhood may have been sleeping peacefully, but not anymore. The Winchester’s were awake and alive and god damn it the world would know it. With a sigh Sam got into the car. Dean smiled as he turned up the volume.
“Oh God Dean, isn’t it a little early for Metallica?” Sam groaned. Dean just grinned wider.
His life may not be perfect, may not even be close. He may soon be facing something unimaginable. But as long as Sam remained safe and by his side until then…he found he was okay with that.
- Mood:
satisfied
Title: For My Blood Runs Chill
Author: lynleeg
Rating: PG-13 I suppose?
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimers: Just borrowing.
Summary: Sam and Dean are lost in unforgiving woods in the dead of winter.
Reviewed by a friend of mine.
Title from a poem by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
“Why did it have to be somewhere cold Sammy?”
The environment around them was unforgiving, harsh and bitter. The snow had stopped some time ago and that was the only thing good that had happened on this hunt.
Dean was weak, and it made Sam sick to see how his blood had stained the snow around him red. Sam had only briefly checked Dean over, the cold demanding them to get shelter. As far as Sam could tell the only serious injury was the deep gash on his side.
Neither of them was properly dressed, they hadn’t expected the snow. They hadn’t expected to be lost deep in the woods of Wisconsin either.
The brothers were huddled together. After Dean had been injured he had carried him as far as he could to a stand of trees clumped close together. Time and the limbs of the dying trees had formed a small and natural lean-to, snow building up and blocking most of the wind.
“I managed to get a call out for help Dean, just hold on.” Dean’s wound had been bleeding freely, but the cold seemed to have been on their side for at least that much and it wasn’t as bad as it could be.
Dean’s eyes were half shut, his body leaning heavily against Sam’s. To see Dean injured and so willingly looking to Sam for support when Dean was so used to giving it…it tore at Sam. Not able to look at him any longer, he stared out into the white world that surrounded them.
“Sammy?”
Sam forced his gaze back to his brother. Dean looked up at his taller brother, green eyes struggling to focus.
“We got it, right?” Dean’s voice was weak, his freckles standing out against his pale skin. His lips looked chapped and had also lost color. Sam imagined he couldn’t look much better.
“Yeah, Dean. It’s dead.” Sam resisted the urge to brush his hand through Dean’s wild hair, needing comfort as much as he needed to try and give it. He couldn’t though. Dean would only accept so much, and Sam refused to take his hands from where they were pressing against Dean’s wounds. His hands had gone numb long ago, and he couldn’t move or risk losing what body heat they had managed to generate together in order to see if it had stopped bleeding.
“Good. That little fucker was sneaky. Shouldn’t have tried to go up against Winchesters though.”
Sam didn’t know what to say, he wasn’t good at denial. Wasn’t good at hiding his fear the way Dean was.
“At least it stopped snowing, not as cold now.”
That cleared some of Sam’s fogged mind. Becoming more aware, he realized with dread that Dean had stopped shivering. He had already been worried by Dean’s state when he didn’t oppose to huddling together. Just commented about cuddling and buying him dinner, then he let it go. Studying Dean closer, he realized with a start that Dean’s pale lips now had a blue tint. The blood loss and freezing temperatures were taking its toll on Dean.
“Bobby will be here. We are only a few hours in and I gave him coordinates before the phone went dead.”
They sat there in silence, Sam shivering against Dean’s still body. His mind was fuzzy, distracted by the cold and his head throbbing from a slight head wound. Sam didn’t know how long had passed, his unfeeling hands still pressed tight against Dean.
“I’m cold Sammy.”
Dean’s voice was soft, barely whispered. Sam held him tighter.
“It will be okay Dean. I promise. Bobby is coming.”
“Why did it have to be somewhere cold?” Dean repeated, his voice more slurred this time.
Sam wanted to reply, to comfort him further but his voice wouldn’t work. He didn’t know what to say to his older brother, to his protector, that wouldn’t just be redundant. So he just held him tighter, trying to offer some more of his own warmth.
When Sam next looked at Dean, he saw he had fallen asleep.
“It will be okay Dean.” He whispered.
------------------------------------
It was so cold. Sam was mad with it, his mind refusing to focus. He had risked moving earlier to find the sleeping Dean’s wound had stopped bleeding. He had turned his body so that he could sit and had positioned Dean so he could hold him against him as if in a hug, keeping him warm. Dean had always hated cold weather, hated being cold.
“It will be okay Dean, Bobby will be here soon. We’ll get you nice and warm, I bet you could use some of that burnt rubber you call coffee.” His throat felt raw and he was pretty sure his lips had cracked from the cold long ago. He could taste metal. But he refused to stop talking, didn’t want to fall asleep too.
Sam sat there, rubbing Dean’s back and comforted by the slight warmth that seemed to bring to him. Night had fallen and with it the temperature. He too had stopped shivering and knew that wasn’t good. Hypothermia was finally setting in with him as well.
“Bobby will find us Dean.” He whispered, his mouth pressed right by Dean’s ear. Even though Dean was asleep Sam hoped he could still hear him. It was Sam’s turn to offer comfort. To protect his brother. And he refused to give up, even as the cold tried to tug him into the warmth of sleep. Dean had saved him from so much, protected him his entire life. Sam could do Dean this one thing, he could keep him warm.
“Remember…” his voice cracked and he tried to swallow. “Remember when I was fourteen? We got lost in the woods in Minnesota. Dad had told us not to leave the cabin but I was bored and whined until you agreed to go for a walk. We were lost for hours. Dad was so pissed when he finally found us, but you…”
Sam tried again to swallow, ignoring the pain it caused.
“You told him it was your fault, that you took me out there for target practice. I never even thanked you. You are always protecting me Dean. And earlier, what you did for me…it would have gutted me…”
Sam would cry, but his eyes were too dry. Maybe the tears were frozen like everything else. And he was so tired. He refused to sleep though, his hands never stopping; giving Dean whatever warmth it could offer.
-------------------------
Bobby found them like this. Huddled together, hugging. Sam’s eyes stared right through him, and he was unresponsive to anything Bobby said. Dean was unconscious. They needed out of the cold, fast.
Sam’s hands were slowly stroking Dean’s back, and there was so much blood under the two brothers. Bobby quickly knelt beside them, his knees giving loud protest after the long march in the cold woods. He placed one hand on Sam’s shoulder, trying to get his attention.
“Sam? Sam!” But Sam didn’t answer. Just kept making that same movement on Dean’s back. Bobby placed his hand over one of Sam’s, stopping him. Then he replaced his hand for Sam's on Dean’s back and was comforted by the warmth he found there. He could feel the knots in his stomach loosening.
“Let's get you boys out of here.”
Ellen stepped out of the woods behind him.
“They okay?” And Bobby’s look caused the worry on her face to lessen. “Thank God. Jo and Ash will be here in a few. I already called them on the radio.”
Ellen took off her backpack and pulled out the emergency blankets. She kneeled down by Dean and placed the blanket over him, her hand brushing his as she tucked it as best she could between the brothers as Bobby got out a blanket for Sam.
“Bobby.”
“How far out are they? They have the collapsible stretchers and…”
“Bobby.” Her voice was flat. Bobby looked up in alarm. Tears were swimming in her eyes; her hand was placed gently on Dean’s head as it rested on Sam’s shoulder.
Bobby looked at Dean, the tension he always carries eased from his face in sleep. He looked so young, so vulnerable. He was always moving, Bobby rarely got to see him still. He reached out to put his hand on the back of Dean's neck.
“Oh…oh Dean…”
He was cold, there was no warmth to him, but Bobby didn’t pull his hand away. He looked to Sam who was staring out at the woods still, and his hands had once again returned to the motion of rubbing warmth into Dean. His lips were moving but Bobby couldn’t hear what he was saying.
Ellen didn’t say anything, the tears running freely as she too looked to Sam. Bobby kneeled there, grief tearing at his heart.
“Help will be here soon Dean, I promise.” They could hear Sam whisper, his voice cracking.
His hands never stopped moving. And each stroke broke Bobby’s heart more.
- Mood: tired
I'm having a pretty cool birthday though. Besides getting lectured to yesterday by my parents, turning 20 has been less damaging and mental horror then I thought.
I got to go to EyeCon last weekend thanks as a birthday present.
My friend got me season one of Supernatural. I had only had season two. Now I have both and can go nuts and watch it an insane amount of times.
Yesterday my mom got me a birthday cake that we ate after going to lunch, right before me and my friend drove back to Fort Myers (We had gone to my hometown this weekend).
Then I come home and in the hallway I'm greeted with a banner that says 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY!', hanging right in front of my doorway.
It is from one of my roommates, who then dragged me to the kitchen to show me a really cute puppy cake.
And it is only 8 hours into my birthday. *glee*
- Mood:
awake
So I am online at around 2am last night. I couldn't sleep so I attacked my 'To Do List'. Which, happily, is so much shorter now.
I'm down to getting my Anthropology homework done (which, if only I could figure out what the hell I am supposed to do...), going shopping for some food to take to EyeCon (my friend hasn't called me at all today, so gods only know when I'm getting that done).
I have to pack, which I can't do till later tonight anyways. I need to go to the library and print out the directions I have sitting in my inbox (still waiting for friend to call, I was going to have her come with me and look over em). And I need to burn a CD for the drive up. I have a list of songs already, just need to add some more. And that can't be done till my roommate comes back because I need to use her computer for it.
So basically my day consists of waiting. Waiting on my friend and waiting on my roommate (who also needs my help on a project for school). That, and I have been staring at this homework for Anthropology with a look of confusion on my face since late last night.
And speaking of last night, that leads to the sharp and pointy.
Part of the 'To Do' list was to get my taxes filed finally. At one point I end up getting frustrated and bang my fist on the desk.
Um....ow.
I feel a sharp pain in my finger and figure I hit my tweezers or something else laying there. So I raise my hand and look at the desk. Nothing.
I look at my hand...
...Whoops.
Turns out I left a push pin facing up. And it was now stuck nearly all the way into my finger. It was at an angle so it didn't hit the bone.
My first reaction was to grab it and get it the hell out of my finger. This was at about 2:30am and I'm banging around in drawers cursing and trying to find the first aid.
And so I finally treat my finger and go back to my taxes. Oh, and 'MonkeyBones' was one. Love that movie. Brenden Fraser is awesome. So I was up till 5am.
Anyways, back to staring at my Anthropology homework and waiting.
- Location:Dorm
- Mood:
bored - Music:My Life - 12 Stones
EyeCon looks like it is really strict. Must be a Creation event. The basterds. And everything is really expensive, so I won't actually meet Jared Padalecki or any of the others.
One good thing though, is that unlike DragonCon (which I thought was one of the best things I ever put money into, I had so much fun) you can pay for certain seats.
So I got a 9-14th seating pass. Fairly close. And I got a ticket to the Steve Carlson concert, and a ticket to 'Ten Inch Hero'. Over all it put me back $92.
The hotel was paid for by my friend's mom, which is the only reason we can really go (bless her). So I am driving and the gas will set me back another... $50? $60? Just depends. Damn gas prices.
And then there is food. But at DragonCon I barely ate anything at all. When I looked back on it later I probably only just consumed 2500 calories in the four days I was there. I lost ten pounds there. DragonCon diet!
- Location:Dorm
- Mood:
drained
Battlestar Galactica premieres April 4th. I am actually excited. The long hiatus had drained me at first, but I find myself caring. I saw a promo and heard Romo's voice and then BAM!
Plus, hello. Final Four, and who the last is. The Cylon battle cliffhanger. Starbuck. So much going on I want to see the conclusion to.
Then, my friend lets me know: The premiere is the same day we'll be at EyeCon. Son of a bitch, pit my two fandoms against each other ya basterds. I'll have to catch BSG later then, maybe that night if Skiffy does the whole, two showings in one night thing. I'm not too worried about it, I am going to have fun at EyeCon.
And what am I looking forward to the most though, out of everything?
Romo and Lee are going to go at it. And not in the way you figure.
See, I think they should be together.
As in...epic love.
I mean come on! The way Lee was with Romo the last three episodes of season three?
And Romo could have fun with it.
Lee loving Romo and Romo...well, using Lee.
Work with me here Ron Moore...
- Mood: tired
Well, I get on today and see that I have notifications. So I check, and find I was compared to others through some application I forgot about.
I now hate myself. Cause seriously? Depressing and sad and ego crushing...
100% on most likely to skip class. Thanks assholes.
2 out of 3 think I'd lose a fight. Why don't we meet, and find out? Hmm?
And an overwhelming consensus based on the categories: I am one ugly fuck.
Why is there not a 'Most Likely To Kill Me?' category?
- Location:Dorm
- Mood:
pissed off
Tenth: Aaron Douglas, you rock. 
Ninth: D'Anna, dude. Back to the hatch...box...bitch! (Love you Xena!)
Eighth: I want your nuts.
Seventh: I'll read fanfiction you Cylon whore.
Sixth: YES!!!!
Fifth: NOOOOO!!!! (
)
Fourth: 
I love how Lee can't decide if he is British or American...and WTF is he talking about?! Does Tyrol even know? 
Aww fuck it, just come here Bamber: 
Third: Starbuck. You scare me. Nuff said.
Second: Go Roslin! (Never ever ever ever thought I'd say that...)
First: ........
The video an be found here, however, I warn you of spoilers. Specially for those who haven't even seen season one (you know who you are, woman.) :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YatjlSJNR
- Location:Dooooorm rooooom biatch
- Mood:
amused - Music:Silence. Sorta.
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
sgkoneko gave me 'R'1. Romo Lampkin
2. Rock salt
3. Ray from 'Due South'
4. Rum
5. Rogues
6. R-rated movies
7. Rollarblading
8. Rodney McKay
9. Reading
10. Riding The Bullet
Dude. That was hard.
- Location:Dorm
- Mood: bored
- Music:I Promise
- Location:In front of my computer
- Mood:
frustrated - Music:Here Son by Ryan Star
This started out as one of those meme things. Then it just turned into a fuck list. With a couple random characters found in my photobucket. Plus, I was originally supposed to list ten. Here is five. I'll just do em all multiple times.
Dean Winchester - Gods. This man...oh...so many kinks to be explored with Dean.
Sam Winchester (can it be right after Dean? And then with Dean?) 
Alec/X5-494, mmm...transgenic stamina...
Charles Walker, cause who isn't turned on by serial killers?
Ben/X5-493 -Yes! I know. Same actor three times so far. But dude.
One: Jensen Ackles is just that damn hot.
Two: Ben was a sexy sexy angsty serial killer.
**Note: I am disturbed, now, by my liking of the serial killers. o_0
- Location:Dorm room
- Mood: awake
- Music:Staggered and Torn - by Slut
I found my poor fish dead at the bottom of his home this evening (really early morning). For I am a horrible keeper of the fish.
My fish had no name, never could find a name that fit him. But he was a good fish. A happy fish. Until he died cause I suck at keeping fish alive.
His remains will be put to rest in the lake outside my dorm. May he find some kind of peace.
I'm sorry fish.
Rest in peace.
----------------------------------------
Edited.
So...not dead. Though, I am resisting the urge to salt and burn the fucker now. Evil, I think.
So I had looked up. He was on the bottom. I tap. No. Tap. No. TAP. No. SHAKE. No.
I am sad, depressed. Thinking over all the other pets I have lost too, all the fish who came before him.
I get my sandals and prepare to go put him to rest in the lake. And...he is freaking swimming.
After my intial shock/happinness/throttlethebasterd reaction, I suddenly realized what to call him.
Jesus Fish. Died and came back three minutes later.
- Location:Dorm
- Mood:
crushed
I really really need to rant and gods do I love this place cause I know I can. Um...long rant.
So I make the mistake of going out into the living room, partly to find out why my parents are still up at 12:40am.
I sit down in one of the recliners and regret it about twenty seconds later when I realize my dad is talking to me - about my little brother.
See, my brother is in Boy Scouts. Fourteen and already an Eagle Scout. Well known in the part of the community that is active, The mayor himself attended his Eagle Scout ceremony (please keep in mind: small town. One square mile of city limits. Swear).
Only thing is, at home he is the opposite of what he shows everyone else (yes, I know. 14 year olds are supposed to be unstable and self-fish. But still). Plus, he is the little brother I never really grew close to. So I find it very hard to be proud of him, and yes I know how little that must make me look.
Anyways, there I am, realizing my mistake with a sinking feeling of dread and I get a strong Ireallyneedanotherbeerlikenow itching. I don't drink in front of my dad but after listening for five minutes I got up and grabbed one. And I swear, every praise that dad gave my brother I drowned it with a swallow of beer.
My dad is insanely proud of him, and I know it is for good reason. Dad talks about him to me all the frigging time about what he has done.
[Mom just came in the room. Told me to make sure I was actually on time tomorrow to work is that smug Iamgivingyourdersandhayouhavetofollow tone. I wanted to fling my now empty beer bottle at her head. Allow me to go liberate another beer from the fridge and I'll continue the rant that feels so good...]
Anyways, dad blahblah insanely proud...so he is still ranting and I'm smiling what had to be an obviously fake smile, cause I know it certainly felt wrong to even have it on my face, and nodded and added an 'oh cool' 'awesome' in there. And the whole time in my head all I can think of is 'What the hell happend? Since when did I live under both my older and younger brother's shadow? Am I that much of a f*ck-up?'
I wanted to scream and I got the hell out of there as soon as possible cause I realized how jealous of my brothers I am. Dad never talks about me like he does my little brother. He can -and has- talked about him for over an hour over the phone while I used vocal cues in order to pretend I was listening.
My older brother is in the Navy, the other on his way to being a politican. And here I am. The fat f*ck up with nothing to show for my nearly twenty years on this planet. Makes a girl want to curl up and just cry and sleep and not wake up.
So I just read over this and remembered one of the reasons I hated being at home, wanted to leave and just never look back: I feel so worthless here.
I also realize how long this is but right now it is nice to say all this.
I need another beer.
[/DrunkEmo!MC]
- Location:Hell
- Mood: crushed
In the list I provided, none of them are spoilerish. So they are basically how you can introduce your friends to Supernatural.
They are all trailers, so none are longer than a minute, minute and a half. I even put them in the order you may wish to watch em.
Supernatural really is an awesome show.
- Mood: sleepy
- Music:AC/DC - Hells Bells
Characteristics of Dean Winchester
- Mood:
thoughtful - Music:AC/DC
