Conversations With The Dead - Epilogue
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Sam - 26th June 2000, A Letter to Dean
Dean,
I have so much to say to you. I have four years' worth of things to say and I'll never be able to tell you directly. I won't speak again. For a long time, you thought the no-talking thing was psychological. You thought that one day I would be myself again. I won't ever be who I was before. None of us will.
It's been almost a week. I think dad might still be alive but I don't know how much longer he'll last. There's something about the Dark, it keeps you alive. I barely ate or drank, I felt like I was there for years, and I stayed living. Maybe dad has a while longer.
Right now, I'm watching you clean your guns. You promised me a few days ago that we'd stick together from now on. I can see how much you want to leave. You won't give up on dad, because you're you. You're too damn heroic, asshole.
I want you to know this: if you leave to find a way to rescue dad, I'm coming with you. I'll be honest, I would really rather stay as far away from that world as I can. I can't take any more of it, but I would if I had to. For you and dad, I'd give up everything.
As far as I know the door into the Dark can't be opened without Her. You shot Her full of bullets, which is all kinds of awesome, but it still means She's not opening that door. Maybe you're right, maybe there are others of Her kind, maybe there are other ways of getting in. There's no such thing as impossible in our fucked up world, right?
I don't know what She was. I don't know what the Dark was. I guess there are all kinds of things out there that even we don't know about.
I've been talking to Jim. Actually, I've been exchanging notes with Jim. I've decided I want to finish school. I think I'm ready for that. Knowing that She's dead is like a weight off my shoulders. I've spent the last four years avoiding shadows because I thought She'd crawl out of them and drag me back to wherever She took me. Thinking of dad being in that place hurts more than I can tell you.
Like I said before, if you want to leave and find a way to get dad back, I'm with you. If you keep your promise and stay in Blue Earth with me and Jim, I'll go back to school. The simple fact is I'm not letting you out of my sight. You've been in and out of my life too often these past few years and I'm putting my foot down. I'm with you, whether you're here in Blue Earth or whether you're out there looking for dad. You don't get a say in the matter. For once, I'm speaking up. You and me, come whatever.
It's your move now, Dean. Stay or go? Whatever you choose, I'm with you.
Sam
September 1st 2000, Blue Earth, Minnesota.
The first Autumn morning is crisp, warm and fresh, and Sam Winchester's hands shake just a little less as he lowers a weeping fig into a shady plot of the garden.
Dean Winchester sits on the porch nearby, barely reading the newspaper in his hands, watching his little brother out of the corner of his eye. There's a letter he keeps in his back pocket that he's read a total of 37 times. He still hasn't found the words to reply.
Both boys, on the cusp of becoming men, wear their pain deep inside: quietly.
Pastor Jim delivers his services, sings hymns with his flock, prays with a boy he thinks of as his own, and begs God to save the boy's father.
One state away, Bobby singer is nose-deep in a book. A book similar to the others he has studied for the past month. He's read everything about shadow demons and creatures of the dark, of alternate dimensions and the twilight realms. He won't stop until he finds the answers he's looking for.
And further away, much further, a man wanders in the dark, guided by the spirits of lost children, looking for a way home.
Sam - 26th June 2000, A Letter to Dean
Dean,
I have so much to say to you. I have four years' worth of things to say and I'll never be able to tell you directly. I won't speak again. For a long time, you thought the no-talking thing was psychological. You thought that one day I would be myself again. I won't ever be who I was before. None of us will.
It's been almost a week. I think dad might still be alive but I don't know how much longer he'll last. There's something about the Dark, it keeps you alive. I barely ate or drank, I felt like I was there for years, and I stayed living. Maybe dad has a while longer.
Right now, I'm watching you clean your guns. You promised me a few days ago that we'd stick together from now on. I can see how much you want to leave. You won't give up on dad, because you're you. You're too damn heroic, asshole.
I want you to know this: if you leave to find a way to rescue dad, I'm coming with you. I'll be honest, I would really rather stay as far away from that world as I can. I can't take any more of it, but I would if I had to. For you and dad, I'd give up everything.
As far as I know the door into the Dark can't be opened without Her. You shot Her full of bullets, which is all kinds of awesome, but it still means She's not opening that door. Maybe you're right, maybe there are others of Her kind, maybe there are other ways of getting in. There's no such thing as impossible in our fucked up world, right?
I don't know what She was. I don't know what the Dark was. I guess there are all kinds of things out there that even we don't know about.
I've been talking to Jim. Actually, I've been exchanging notes with Jim. I've decided I want to finish school. I think I'm ready for that. Knowing that She's dead is like a weight off my shoulders. I've spent the last four years avoiding shadows because I thought She'd crawl out of them and drag me back to wherever She took me. Thinking of dad being in that place hurts more than I can tell you.
Like I said before, if you want to leave and find a way to get dad back, I'm with you. If you keep your promise and stay in Blue Earth with me and Jim, I'll go back to school. The simple fact is I'm not letting you out of my sight. You've been in and out of my life too often these past few years and I'm putting my foot down. I'm with you, whether you're here in Blue Earth or whether you're out there looking for dad. You don't get a say in the matter. For once, I'm speaking up. You and me, come whatever.
It's your move now, Dean. Stay or go? Whatever you choose, I'm with you.
Sam
September 1st 2000, Blue Earth, Minnesota.
The first Autumn morning is crisp, warm and fresh, and Sam Winchester's hands shake just a little less as he lowers a weeping fig into a shady plot of the garden.
Dean Winchester sits on the porch nearby, barely reading the newspaper in his hands, watching his little brother out of the corner of his eye. There's a letter he keeps in his back pocket that he's read a total of 37 times. He still hasn't found the words to reply.
Both boys, on the cusp of becoming men, wear their pain deep inside: quietly.
Pastor Jim delivers his services, sings hymns with his flock, prays with a boy he thinks of as his own, and begs God to save the boy's father.
One state away, Bobby singer is nose-deep in a book. A book similar to the others he has studied for the past month. He's read everything about shadow demons and creatures of the dark, of alternate dimensions and the twilight realms. He won't stop until he finds the answers he's looking for.
And further away, much further, a man wanders in the dark, guided by the spirits of lost children, looking for a way home.