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somedaybitchtitle: "At the Corner of Time and Motion"
fandom: Supernatural
rating: gen, R for language
spoilers: epilogue for 2.01
word count: 1106
disclaimers: the Fabulous Fucked Up Winchesters belong to Eric Kripke and Co. i'm just borrowing them temporarily, and with any luck it will never happen again.
notes: i wondered what Dean would do...what he would be afraid would happen if he didn't. this is strictly speculation on my part. i am totally unspoiled and like to stay that way.
grateful thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
boofadil and themonkeycabal for the beta. all mistakes are mine.
Summary: The ring of Dean's cell phone makes them all jump. Dean glares at the offending object as he answers it. "What?" He snaps the word. At the sound of "I am so sorry, honey," Dean nearly breaks.
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_gen
Dive Motel Number 784.
Dean grabs a shovel then digs out a container of lighter fluid from a large gear bag. Sam catches the movement from the corner of an eye, processes, then explodes, blocking Dean's path to the door.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Dean's anger matches for a moment, flaring vividly in his eyes then banking just as quickly.
"Sam."
Dean is quiet, his tone at once brooking no argument and begging Sam not to make him say it out loud. Dean doesn't even want to think it. The Possession. A back door. Their dad as a demon's bitch. Their dad in --
It's all over Dean's face when he meets his brother's accusing stare, mixed in equal parts with the indescribable grief, the rage and the guilt. Sam's eyes begin to well after a long, silent few moments and Dean sees it all reflected back. He shifts his eyes, away, over Sam's shoulder, anywhere but the mirror of his own emotions, and he clenches his jaw to help keep his composure. When Dean looks again, Sam is swallowing hard.
"Salt?" Sam's voice is raw and it shatters Dean's heart just that much more.
"Bobby's got it."
"No!" Sam blurts out, pleading.
Dean says nothing at first. He knows how he'd feel if the decision were taken out of his hands - knows because it already was - but his instinct, and his job, is to always protect Sam, to keep him from more pain. Anything to not make this fucking mess worse. Mom. Jess. Now Dad. If he loses Sam...if Dean loses Sam, he loses himself. And his dad knew it; knew that Dean could survive his father's death but not Sam's. And Sam couldn't Dean's.
Bastard.
"Sammy," he manages roughly.
Sam doesn't stop the tears rolling slowly down his face.
"Dean. Please." His words are thick through the grief.
Dean nods, swallowing back his own tears. He steps around Sam, pausing to lean into his brother for just a moment, then walks outside without looking back.
###
Indistinguishable Forest Number 567
The fire bathes the trio in a warm, golden red. Bobby steps forward, drops a talisman into the flames and tries to speak but can't. He looks from Dean to Sam, his gaze lingering on the younger man a moment. Dean doesn't miss it and wonders if Bobby knows. Sam must feel it too because he looks up. Dean sees the same pleading, the same confusion and anger, and the same frustration when Bobby keeps the secret and looks away, back to the burning remains of John Winchester.
"Dumb sonofabitch," Bobby mutters.
Sam almost laughs then, the beginnings of it just slipping out but it quickly becomes a sob.
The ring of Dean's cell phone makes them all jump. Dean glares at the offending object as he answers it.
"What?" He snaps the word.
At the sound of "I am so sorry, honey," Dean nearly breaks.
"Missouri?"
Bobby smiles and heads back to his car as Dean and Sam share a panicked look. She's possibly the one thing that is more than they can take. She knows. Everything.
"He was a hypocritical jackass, Dean Winchester."
Dean starts to laugh then, through the tears that have finally come.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Give your brother the phone," Missouri commands gently.
He hands it over without question. Sam puts the phone to his ear but can't find his voice to speak. Dean moves closer to hear, making a half-assed swipe at his tears.
"You listen good, Sam Winchester. Your father was --"
Missouri's voice breaks. The brothers share a look.
"This is not your fault, Sam. Your father made his own choices. He was a selfish bastard but he loved you more than his own life. This was the only way he thought he could keep you safe. That's what fathers do."
"I --" Sam begins, and fails.
"I know, baby. I know. Now tell your brother to quit eavesdropping and give him the damn phone."
Sam hands it over, nearly smiling, and rubs his face with his sleeve.
"Yes, ma'am?" Dean asks respectfully.
"He told you about Sam."
Used to her by now, Dean hides his surprise but risks a quick glance at Sam. "Yes, ma'am."
"I'm sorry, Dean. I truly am. But your father believed you could handle it. And so do I."
Dean swallows hard against the rush of emotion the simple pronouncement brings, but it fills him with a pride and a determination that, just for a moment, eases the grief and the guilt. Dad told him the same thing in the hospital, but this is differnet. Cleaner. And Missouri knew that.
"Well, of course I did, boy."
He laughs. "Thank you."
"It's what family is for, Dean," Missouri says softly.
Dean looks at his brother, watches as Sam stares at the flames. "Yeah." The fist around his heart eases just a fraction.
"It's worse now."
The fist closes tight again.
"I know."
Missouri's quiet for so long then that Dean checks if the connection's dropped.
"Dean," she starts finally. "What the demon did. There's rules, and he broke 'em."
Despite the heat of the fire, he shivers. "She'll come after me?"
"I don't think so, but I honestly don't know for sure. She got a soul, just not yours."
Dean looks at Sam again and the fear hits him in waves.
"That's not what I'm telling you, Dean Winchester, so don't you get stupid on me. Sam needs you. I'm just sayin' you need to be more careful. The demon..." Missouri stops.
"Has Dad's soul," Dean finishes quietly.
"It knows what he knows now."
The compassion in her voice, the voice of a woman essentially a stranger, brings Dean to tears again.
"Tell him the truth, Dean."
"What?" He can't hide the shock this time and Sam looks up at him sharply.
"He deserves to know, and your father shouldn't have kept it from him."
Dean knows she's right. Hell, he'd be nine kinds of pissed if Sam kept that kind of secret from him. He was nine kinds of pissed when Sam kept his visions a secret. But this...Sammy's too raw. How can it not make it worse?
"Missouri," Dean doesn't quite argue.
"It's killing him, Dean Winchester, and you're not the only one that's strong."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Don't make me call you first."
"Yes, ma'am."
Sam watches Dean hang up.
"What else did she say?" Sam asks softly.
"You need a haircut."
Sam gives Dean the 'you-are-so-lying' look.
"What? You do?" Dean deflects stubbornly.
"Dick."
"Bitch."
The pyre shifts, sending a shower of sparks into the air. The brothers watch the flames for several moments before Dean turns to leave. "Grab the shovel."
Sam looks from the now quiet flames to his brother's retreating form.
"Jackass."
Another tear escapes and Sam smiles sadly. He pulls the shovel from the mound of freshly dug earth and leaves the body behind.
fandom: Supernatural
rating: gen, R for language
spoilers: epilogue for 2.01
word count: 1106
disclaimers: the Fabulous Fucked Up Winchesters belong to Eric Kripke and Co. i'm just borrowing them temporarily, and with any luck it will never happen again.
notes: i wondered what Dean would do...what he would be afraid would happen if he didn't. this is strictly speculation on my part. i am totally unspoiled and like to stay that way.
grateful thanks to
boofadil and themonkeycabal for the beta. all mistakes are mine.Summary: The ring of Dean's cell phone makes them all jump. Dean glares at the offending object as he answers it. "What?" He snaps the word. At the sound of "I am so sorry, honey," Dean nearly breaks.
x-posted to
spn_genDive Motel Number 784.
Dean grabs a shovel then digs out a container of lighter fluid from a large gear bag. Sam catches the movement from the corner of an eye, processes, then explodes, blocking Dean's path to the door.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Dean's anger matches for a moment, flaring vividly in his eyes then banking just as quickly.
"Sam."
Dean is quiet, his tone at once brooking no argument and begging Sam not to make him say it out loud. Dean doesn't even want to think it. The Possession. A back door. Their dad as a demon's bitch. Their dad in --
It's all over Dean's face when he meets his brother's accusing stare, mixed in equal parts with the indescribable grief, the rage and the guilt. Sam's eyes begin to well after a long, silent few moments and Dean sees it all reflected back. He shifts his eyes, away, over Sam's shoulder, anywhere but the mirror of his own emotions, and he clenches his jaw to help keep his composure. When Dean looks again, Sam is swallowing hard.
"Salt?" Sam's voice is raw and it shatters Dean's heart just that much more.
"Bobby's got it."
"No!" Sam blurts out, pleading.
Dean says nothing at first. He knows how he'd feel if the decision were taken out of his hands - knows because it already was - but his instinct, and his job, is to always protect Sam, to keep him from more pain. Anything to not make this fucking mess worse. Mom. Jess. Now Dad. If he loses Sam...if Dean loses Sam, he loses himself. And his dad knew it; knew that Dean could survive his father's death but not Sam's. And Sam couldn't Dean's.
Bastard.
"Sammy," he manages roughly.
Sam doesn't stop the tears rolling slowly down his face.
"Dean. Please." His words are thick through the grief.
Dean nods, swallowing back his own tears. He steps around Sam, pausing to lean into his brother for just a moment, then walks outside without looking back.
###
Indistinguishable Forest Number 567
The fire bathes the trio in a warm, golden red. Bobby steps forward, drops a talisman into the flames and tries to speak but can't. He looks from Dean to Sam, his gaze lingering on the younger man a moment. Dean doesn't miss it and wonders if Bobby knows. Sam must feel it too because he looks up. Dean sees the same pleading, the same confusion and anger, and the same frustration when Bobby keeps the secret and looks away, back to the burning remains of John Winchester.
"Dumb sonofabitch," Bobby mutters.
Sam almost laughs then, the beginnings of it just slipping out but it quickly becomes a sob.
The ring of Dean's cell phone makes them all jump. Dean glares at the offending object as he answers it.
"What?" He snaps the word.
At the sound of "I am so sorry, honey," Dean nearly breaks.
"Missouri?"
Bobby smiles and heads back to his car as Dean and Sam share a panicked look. She's possibly the one thing that is more than they can take. She knows. Everything.
"He was a hypocritical jackass, Dean Winchester."
Dean starts to laugh then, through the tears that have finally come.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Give your brother the phone," Missouri commands gently.
He hands it over without question. Sam puts the phone to his ear but can't find his voice to speak. Dean moves closer to hear, making a half-assed swipe at his tears.
"You listen good, Sam Winchester. Your father was --"
Missouri's voice breaks. The brothers share a look.
"This is not your fault, Sam. Your father made his own choices. He was a selfish bastard but he loved you more than his own life. This was the only way he thought he could keep you safe. That's what fathers do."
"I --" Sam begins, and fails.
"I know, baby. I know. Now tell your brother to quit eavesdropping and give him the damn phone."
Sam hands it over, nearly smiling, and rubs his face with his sleeve.
"Yes, ma'am?" Dean asks respectfully.
"He told you about Sam."
Used to her by now, Dean hides his surprise but risks a quick glance at Sam. "Yes, ma'am."
"I'm sorry, Dean. I truly am. But your father believed you could handle it. And so do I."
Dean swallows hard against the rush of emotion the simple pronouncement brings, but it fills him with a pride and a determination that, just for a moment, eases the grief and the guilt. Dad told him the same thing in the hospital, but this is differnet. Cleaner. And Missouri knew that.
"Well, of course I did, boy."
He laughs. "Thank you."
"It's what family is for, Dean," Missouri says softly.
Dean looks at his brother, watches as Sam stares at the flames. "Yeah." The fist around his heart eases just a fraction.
"It's worse now."
The fist closes tight again.
"I know."
Missouri's quiet for so long then that Dean checks if the connection's dropped.
"Dean," she starts finally. "What the demon did. There's rules, and he broke 'em."
Despite the heat of the fire, he shivers. "She'll come after me?"
"I don't think so, but I honestly don't know for sure. She got a soul, just not yours."
Dean looks at Sam again and the fear hits him in waves.
"That's not what I'm telling you, Dean Winchester, so don't you get stupid on me. Sam needs you. I'm just sayin' you need to be more careful. The demon..." Missouri stops.
"Has Dad's soul," Dean finishes quietly.
"It knows what he knows now."
The compassion in her voice, the voice of a woman essentially a stranger, brings Dean to tears again.
"Tell him the truth, Dean."
"What?" He can't hide the shock this time and Sam looks up at him sharply.
"He deserves to know, and your father shouldn't have kept it from him."
Dean knows she's right. Hell, he'd be nine kinds of pissed if Sam kept that kind of secret from him. He was nine kinds of pissed when Sam kept his visions a secret. But this...Sammy's too raw. How can it not make it worse?
"Missouri," Dean doesn't quite argue.
"It's killing him, Dean Winchester, and you're not the only one that's strong."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Don't make me call you first."
"Yes, ma'am."
Sam watches Dean hang up.
"What else did she say?" Sam asks softly.
"You need a haircut."
Sam gives Dean the 'you-are-so-lying' look.
"What? You do?" Dean deflects stubbornly.
"Dick."
"Bitch."
The pyre shifts, sending a shower of sparks into the air. The brothers watch the flames for several moments before Dean turns to leave. "Grab the shovel."
Sam looks from the now quiet flames to his brother's retreating form.
"Jackass."
Another tear escapes and Sam smiles sadly. He pulls the shovel from the mound of freshly dug earth and leaves the body behind.
