Simple Past -- 2/2
Disclaimer: I definitely DO NOT own Dean Winchester (and I thank every God (pagan or Christian) I know for that!) and everything you might recognize from the show does not belong to me but to somebody else.
Episode-tag to Swan Song.
*** *** ***
The Impala's hinges groan softly as he opens the door and slides in behind the wheel. It's a familiar sound, should feel comforting, soothing maybe.
But it doesn't, not really.
He ignores that, ignores the flash of guilt that's choking him for a moment when he realizes that his baby seems to have lost her magic, she doesn't feel right, not like herself anymore. And he ignores that, too, runs his hand lovingly over the dashboard as if to prove to himself that there is still something there.
There isn't.
"Okay, listen…"
His voice sounds strange in the silence of the car, too rusty, unused. The words catch in his throat almost before they make it over his lips and he suddenly jerks upright in his seat, pulls his hand back.
"This isn't going to work."
The hinges groan in protest when he pushes the door open, but he doesn't stop, doesn't look back.
*** *** ***
"I'm sorry."
She doesn't respond. Of course not, she never does, not with words anyway.
*** *** ***
He doesn't know how long he has been sitting there, inside the car, with the radio playing softly in the background.
His voice still isn't quite what it used to be, too scratchy, maybe even hoarse, but he gets the words out this time.
"Look, man, I tried, I really did…"
He studies his hands, they look different.
"I don't think I can do it."
Not different, normal. Not wrapped around a gun or a spray can to paint a devil's trap on the floor, not even holding a box of salt to ward a room.
"I don't know why, I-she-Lisa, she's great, man, she really is… I mean, I don't really know why she puts up with me… being there and all that and-and Ben… He's awesome, you know?"
His gaze travels across the interior of the car, stops as it sets on the radio.
"He loves the music, he loves the car, he loves fast-food, practically inhales the stuff if I don't stop him. He's like this Dr. Evil Mini-Me from Austin Powers, remember that?"
He chuckles softly, then reaches out and turns the radio off, listens into the silence for a moment.
"They're… they're great, Sam, and… and I get it now, why you wanted out… Stanford… that was your chance, man, and… I thought I could do this, you know? I thought this was it, this is what I wanted, this white-picket-fences-life and everything and… it's great, it really is-they are great-"
He breaks off.
It's the last thing he says that night.
*** *** ***
"I get why you… why you made me promise. You wanted to make sure I wasn't alone after you-and… and I know that I made you promise the same before I… left. That you would have someone to look after you and to care about you and… and everything…"
It's raining tonight, big drops of water hit the front shield where they dissolve into smaller drops and finally trickle down the glass. The streetlamp's light reflects in the tiny droplets and he watches them for a moment.
"Could have worked out, you know? I think if we'd just split up at some point, sworn off hunting for good and tried to make our own lives… I guess this would have been it, I could have done this…"
He shifts slightly.
"But not like this, not after everything that's happened."
His breathing hitches for a moment.
"Sammy, I can't do this."
He is whispering now, voice so low it's almost drowned out by the steady sound of rain pelting down on the window, the hood, the car…
"I've tried… But it's not fair, you know? It's not fair to them, I can never be who they want… what they need… not for the rest of my life…"
He stops.
The rain goes on.
*** *** ***
It's still raining when he comes back the next night and he thinks that it fits his mood perfectly. He opens the door, gets in and just sits there for a long time, maybe minutes, maybe hours, he doesn't know. Doesn't really care.
He doesn't turn on the radio this night.
"Lisa is okay with it, you know? Already talked to her. She says I should do whatever makes me happy, she knows I'm not happy… here. And man, I feel bad for using her-them like this…"
He starts playing with the car keys, twisting them in his hands, over and over.
"Ben is mad at me. He doesn't want me to leave. Said I could have his Gameboy if that would make me happy. He even begged me to stay and… you know, for a moment I almost gave in. But I couldn't do it. And now he's mad at me, like really mad. He doesn't want to talk to me, leaves the room whenever I show up. Lisa says he'll get over it and I know he will."
The keys make a soft sound.
"This is not who I am… this isn't who I want to be. And I… I'm sorry. I promised her I would stay until I fixed her car, it's the least I can do…"
It's still raining when he goes back into the house.
*** *** ***
"The funny thing is… for the first time in my life I can choose what I want to do, you know? I can do what I want, go where I want, be what I want-who I want to be."
The rain has finally stopped on the fourth day and now everything is wet and muddy. He looks down at his shoes and thinks that maybe he shouldn't have crossed the lawn to get to her.
"I'm a hunter, Sammy, I'll always be a hunter. I don't know if I would have chosen this life if I'd had the choice back then… probably not. But that doesn't matter, I'm choosing it now, I wanna do this. I'm good at it, I'm really, really good at it. And I know that. I can help people, make a difference. I'm not saving the world or anything-not this time, it won't make a difference in the grand scheme of things… but it is what I want."
A car drives down the street, its headlights cutting through the dark of the night. For a moment he sees his own eyes in the rear view mirror.
"I'm doing it for me this time. Not 'cause Dad told me to or to avenge Mom… not even 'cause I want to get the bastards that did this to you... to us. This isn't about our family anymore-"
He breaks off when he realizes that he is the only family there is left.
"Dammit…"
*** *** ***
"I have no idea how to do this…"
He pulls the door close behind him and arranges himself wearily on the front seat. His head tilts back against the headrest and he closes his eyes for a moment. He doesn't open them when he finally speaks in a low voice.
"I've always been a team player… on the hunt… I can do it on my own, you know that… but I don't want to, still don't want to be alone. I need backup and before you get mad at me I… I will look for… somebody to work together with, okay?"
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, eyes opening to a slit as he blinks tiredly.
"Was thinking about calling Bobby, maybe stay at his house for a while and think this over. Maybe even team up with him for a few hunts. I couldn't face him right after you-"
The words get stuck in his throat and he breaks off, moves his tired body until he rests more comfortably. He is silent for a long moment, watches the light outside the car dance across the grass.
"I can now… I think… I miss him. Haven't really heard of him in a long time. "
He leans over to the glove box on the other side of the front seat and opens it, starts rummaging around for some time. He finally pulls out a cell phone and starts to close the compartment, then suddenly goes very still.
"Son of a-"
He stares at something for a long time, then reaches for it and pulls a familiar necklace out of the glove box. His hand starts to tremble slightly but he doesn't seem to notice, his gaze is fixed on the brass amulet.
*** *** ***
"Dude, I've been thinking…"
He stops, then chuckles softly, relaxing against the backrest for a moment.
"Man, I really wish I could see your face right now…"
He reaches over to the glove box, pulls the amulet out. His fingers start playing with it as he continues, in a soft, almost hesitant voice.
"I was going to put it back on the day I-today. I'm leaving, gonna stay with Bobby for a few days. I already said goodbye to Lisa and tried to talk to Ben, but he wouldn't see me…"
His gaze travels to a brown paper back on the passenger's seat, then back to the necklace.
"Listen, I'm not… I don't know how to tell you this-I can't. I can't put it on, not after… not after everything."
He swallows hard, winces as if the words cause him physical pain.
"I… I'm not mad at you, Sammy, I just… It doesn't feel right, you know? I'm not saying I'm never touching-wearing it again but right now… right now I can't, I need to work this out, I need to-I need to understand what happened to us, what they did to us, what you-what we did to ourselves…"
He breaks off again, runs a hand through his short hair tiredly.
"I need to work this out, I can't just put it back and pretend nothing's happened, if-when I put it back I want to know… I want to feel it's okay to do it, I want to be sure I'm doing the right thing and I want to be sure I know what this stupid thing really means to me. I'm not giving up on you, Sammy, not ever again. And I know… I know how much I hurt you when I threw it away…"
A soft sound escapes his throat and he closes his eyes with a weary sigh, keeps his eyes closed as he continues.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that and that's why I can't just… put it back on, just like that, I have to make sure I forgive myself first…"
He exhales shakily and bends a little, puts the necklace into a small box and then places it into the glove box.
"I will get it back, Sam, I promise you that."
The glove box closes with a soft click and he stares at it for a long time before he finally starts the car.
He never notices the broken streetlight flare to life again as he pulls out of the street.
*** *** ***
Episode-tag to Swan Song.
*** *** ***
The Impala's hinges groan softly as he opens the door and slides in behind the wheel. It's a familiar sound, should feel comforting, soothing maybe.
But it doesn't, not really.
He ignores that, ignores the flash of guilt that's choking him for a moment when he realizes that his baby seems to have lost her magic, she doesn't feel right, not like herself anymore. And he ignores that, too, runs his hand lovingly over the dashboard as if to prove to himself that there is still something there.
There isn't.
"Okay, listen…"
His voice sounds strange in the silence of the car, too rusty, unused. The words catch in his throat almost before they make it over his lips and he suddenly jerks upright in his seat, pulls his hand back.
"This isn't going to work."
The hinges groan in protest when he pushes the door open, but he doesn't stop, doesn't look back.
*** *** ***
"I'm sorry."
She doesn't respond. Of course not, she never does, not with words anyway.
*** *** ***
He doesn't know how long he has been sitting there, inside the car, with the radio playing softly in the background.
His voice still isn't quite what it used to be, too scratchy, maybe even hoarse, but he gets the words out this time.
"Look, man, I tried, I really did…"
He studies his hands, they look different.
"I don't think I can do it."
Not different, normal. Not wrapped around a gun or a spray can to paint a devil's trap on the floor, not even holding a box of salt to ward a room.
"I don't know why, I-she-Lisa, she's great, man, she really is… I mean, I don't really know why she puts up with me… being there and all that and-and Ben… He's awesome, you know?"
His gaze travels across the interior of the car, stops as it sets on the radio.
"He loves the music, he loves the car, he loves fast-food, practically inhales the stuff if I don't stop him. He's like this Dr. Evil Mini-Me from Austin Powers, remember that?"
He chuckles softly, then reaches out and turns the radio off, listens into the silence for a moment.
"They're… they're great, Sam, and… and I get it now, why you wanted out… Stanford… that was your chance, man, and… I thought I could do this, you know? I thought this was it, this is what I wanted, this white-picket-fences-life and everything and… it's great, it really is-they are great-"
He breaks off.
It's the last thing he says that night.
*** *** ***
"I get why you… why you made me promise. You wanted to make sure I wasn't alone after you-and… and I know that I made you promise the same before I… left. That you would have someone to look after you and to care about you and… and everything…"
It's raining tonight, big drops of water hit the front shield where they dissolve into smaller drops and finally trickle down the glass. The streetlamp's light reflects in the tiny droplets and he watches them for a moment.
"Could have worked out, you know? I think if we'd just split up at some point, sworn off hunting for good and tried to make our own lives… I guess this would have been it, I could have done this…"
He shifts slightly.
"But not like this, not after everything that's happened."
His breathing hitches for a moment.
"Sammy, I can't do this."
He is whispering now, voice so low it's almost drowned out by the steady sound of rain pelting down on the window, the hood, the car…
"I've tried… But it's not fair, you know? It's not fair to them, I can never be who they want… what they need… not for the rest of my life…"
He stops.
The rain goes on.
*** *** ***
It's still raining when he comes back the next night and he thinks that it fits his mood perfectly. He opens the door, gets in and just sits there for a long time, maybe minutes, maybe hours, he doesn't know. Doesn't really care.
He doesn't turn on the radio this night.
"Lisa is okay with it, you know? Already talked to her. She says I should do whatever makes me happy, she knows I'm not happy… here. And man, I feel bad for using her-them like this…"
He starts playing with the car keys, twisting them in his hands, over and over.
"Ben is mad at me. He doesn't want me to leave. Said I could have his Gameboy if that would make me happy. He even begged me to stay and… you know, for a moment I almost gave in. But I couldn't do it. And now he's mad at me, like really mad. He doesn't want to talk to me, leaves the room whenever I show up. Lisa says he'll get over it and I know he will."
The keys make a soft sound.
"This is not who I am… this isn't who I want to be. And I… I'm sorry. I promised her I would stay until I fixed her car, it's the least I can do…"
It's still raining when he goes back into the house.
*** *** ***
"The funny thing is… for the first time in my life I can choose what I want to do, you know? I can do what I want, go where I want, be what I want-who I want to be."
The rain has finally stopped on the fourth day and now everything is wet and muddy. He looks down at his shoes and thinks that maybe he shouldn't have crossed the lawn to get to her.
"I'm a hunter, Sammy, I'll always be a hunter. I don't know if I would have chosen this life if I'd had the choice back then… probably not. But that doesn't matter, I'm choosing it now, I wanna do this. I'm good at it, I'm really, really good at it. And I know that. I can help people, make a difference. I'm not saving the world or anything-not this time, it won't make a difference in the grand scheme of things… but it is what I want."
A car drives down the street, its headlights cutting through the dark of the night. For a moment he sees his own eyes in the rear view mirror.
"I'm doing it for me this time. Not 'cause Dad told me to or to avenge Mom… not even 'cause I want to get the bastards that did this to you... to us. This isn't about our family anymore-"
He breaks off when he realizes that he is the only family there is left.
"Dammit…"
*** *** ***
"I have no idea how to do this…"
He pulls the door close behind him and arranges himself wearily on the front seat. His head tilts back against the headrest and he closes his eyes for a moment. He doesn't open them when he finally speaks in a low voice.
"I've always been a team player… on the hunt… I can do it on my own, you know that… but I don't want to, still don't want to be alone. I need backup and before you get mad at me I… I will look for… somebody to work together with, okay?"
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, eyes opening to a slit as he blinks tiredly.
"Was thinking about calling Bobby, maybe stay at his house for a while and think this over. Maybe even team up with him for a few hunts. I couldn't face him right after you-"
The words get stuck in his throat and he breaks off, moves his tired body until he rests more comfortably. He is silent for a long moment, watches the light outside the car dance across the grass.
"I can now… I think… I miss him. Haven't really heard of him in a long time. "
He leans over to the glove box on the other side of the front seat and opens it, starts rummaging around for some time. He finally pulls out a cell phone and starts to close the compartment, then suddenly goes very still.
"Son of a-"
He stares at something for a long time, then reaches for it and pulls a familiar necklace out of the glove box. His hand starts to tremble slightly but he doesn't seem to notice, his gaze is fixed on the brass amulet.
*** *** ***
"Dude, I've been thinking…"
He stops, then chuckles softly, relaxing against the backrest for a moment.
"Man, I really wish I could see your face right now…"
He reaches over to the glove box, pulls the amulet out. His fingers start playing with it as he continues, in a soft, almost hesitant voice.
"I was going to put it back on the day I-today. I'm leaving, gonna stay with Bobby for a few days. I already said goodbye to Lisa and tried to talk to Ben, but he wouldn't see me…"
His gaze travels to a brown paper back on the passenger's seat, then back to the necklace.
"Listen, I'm not… I don't know how to tell you this-I can't. I can't put it on, not after… not after everything."
He swallows hard, winces as if the words cause him physical pain.
"I… I'm not mad at you, Sammy, I just… It doesn't feel right, you know? I'm not saying I'm never touching-wearing it again but right now… right now I can't, I need to work this out, I need to-I need to understand what happened to us, what they did to us, what you-what we did to ourselves…"
He breaks off again, runs a hand through his short hair tiredly.
"I need to work this out, I can't just put it back and pretend nothing's happened, if-when I put it back I want to know… I want to feel it's okay to do it, I want to be sure I'm doing the right thing and I want to be sure I know what this stupid thing really means to me. I'm not giving up on you, Sammy, not ever again. And I know… I know how much I hurt you when I threw it away…"
A soft sound escapes his throat and he closes his eyes with a weary sigh, keeps his eyes closed as he continues.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that and that's why I can't just… put it back on, just like that, I have to make sure I forgive myself first…"
He exhales shakily and bends a little, puts the necklace into a small box and then places it into the glove box.
"I will get it back, Sam, I promise you that."
The glove box closes with a soft click and he stares at it for a long time before he finally starts the car.
He never notices the broken streetlight flare to life again as he pulls out of the street.
*** *** ***