Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine (Season 7 spoilers)
Dean's close to breaking point. this is just my interpretation of how it might go.
27/10/2011: knightcons Drew a lovely fanart linked to this. <3
( Nothing's alright. and nothing is fine. )
27/10/2011: knightcons Drew a lovely fanart linked to this. <3
( Nothing's alright. and nothing is fine. )
Comments 34
But he was trying.
Which was why he was shocked awake with worry when he saw Dean's bed empty. Sam flexed his hand, pressing idly on the scar, trying to see if this was another hallucinaton. He swung his jacket on and headed towards the door, looking for Dean.
"Dean! Dude, where the.."
His heart stopped as he saw him huddled next to the car in the rain, a familiar piece of battered brown cloth held in his hands. Sam knelt beside Dean, hauling him to his feet. "Come on. Back inside."
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Satan may not be his co-pilot, and he may not have gulped a few thousand souls, but recently he felt like he's been losing his damned mind.
He didn't notice, either, that as Sam had hauled him to his feet, his hand had gripped into the coat so hard that his knuckles turned white. Some part of him didn't want to drop it. He knew it was stupid, and that Cas wasn't going to be brought back by it, but at this point in time, it just...... seemed wrong.
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Empty. Like the coat. Like the impala had after Dad had first gone. Like their lives were a little more after they lost another damned friend or family member. The trouble with finally allowing himself to mourn? It opened the doors to his grief for the others which he had tried to keep firmly shut to keep himself going. or at least try to keep themselves going.
He opened his mouth to say he was fine. To get Sam the hell away from this train-wreck Dean currently had going on, but instead what came out was: "It seems so still." and his eyes flicked in the direction of the coat before dropping back down to his hands.
Well, Shit. that wasn't what he intended to say at all.
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But it wasn't going to be today. Where Dean was the pessimist, Sam was the.. well, not optomist, but he had faith in people. He still believed that Cas was alive, and that somehow, they'd find a way to save him. He believed that Dean would find his center again and be the rock that they all needed.
Even if their rock was currently sliding away from him, further and further into darkness. Sam couldn't let that happen. Dean had saved him against Lucifer. He needed Dean to save him again. Like he had since they were kids.
Dean's hand digging into his palm, his eyes wide with fear, the blood still on his lips..
"Yeah. I'm.. I'm here, Dean."
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Not that it would make a difference. Sam was such an open book on this subject. Which was another thing. Which was another thing. By now, Sam should know how much being lied to by family hurt Dean, and still he did it over and over. How was he supposed to help - the little that he could - if he didn't know?
Sam did it with Ruby. Cas did it last year. Sam was doing it again. And look what they paid eah time.
Screw it: Look what he paid each time. Dean gave everything for his family: he thinks he has more than a little right to think about this thing selfishly. Especially when he was paying for it with the family he gave everything for.
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No. It wasn't all right. But Sam didn't know what else to do. What could he do? Tell Dean about his hallucinations? The horrible things he'd see, or the flames and blood dancing just around his peripheral vision. He couldn't. He couldn't watch it destroy Dean a little more each time.
And.. there was nothing anyone could do. Sam had to deal with it on his own or he'd go mad.
He sighed. "I'm not okay. But I'm coping, Dean. It's.. it's all I can do," he offered helplessly.
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He let Sam's hand go and dropped his hand to his side, resisting the urge to scrub it over his face. He can feel that precipice again. Knows he's walking a damned thin line, but knows he's gotta keep walking it for Sam. which is why: no, he won't grieve; he won't talk about it; and he'll keep doing what he's doing. The first two won't help or change a damned thing, and what remnants of his family need him to stay strong. Crying his soul out like a little girl, and screaming to the sky is something neither of them need to see Dean doing. So he doesn't.
"Let's get a beer."
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The answer was a painfully simple one. It wasn't "because we can", because half the time, they barely squeaked out alive anymore.
It was because Castiel had been family. He had risked everything for them on more than one occasion because.. because he had seen something worthwhile in Dean.
"Because we owe him," he said softly. If they couldn't bring Cas back, and Sam wasn't so sure that was beyond the realm of possibility, they could find some way of stopping the Leviathan and letting him rest in peace.
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Cas had seen something worthwhile in Dean, but Dean had never seen it. still couldn't. All he knew was that he kept failing in his one job: to protect his family.
"I can't pay him him back for what he's done for us. Hell, he told me felt regret for what he'd done, and the only damned thing I could say was asking if that it made him feel better." There was so many things he should have said. But no. Of course he never said what he should have.
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"None of us can, Dean. And Cas.. he knew. That's why he came home in the first place. Because he was still family and he knew that we'd help him. You didn't have to say it. He knew."
He wanted to grab Dean and shake him until he screamed. He'd idolized his brother since he was a child. There were parts of him that still did, even if he did find him frustrating, infuriating and difficult half the time. He was worthwhile. He was his big brother.
"Cas was worth saving."
".. so were you."
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Or if he knew what Dean had done to Amy. That might change Sam's glowing opinion of him, or so he thought.
Dean's voice was low and broken, after he got out of the car to lean against it and get some air. "...He saved me.... but I couldn't do anything to help him."
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