.341 -- Supernatural Drabble Fic.
Okay, so it's a little bigger than 500 words, but I'm still considering it a drabble.
So here you go, profshallowness:
It wasn't forever, but that was okay.
He'd given up on that a long time ago. Nothing was forever. Nothing lived or lasted past a lifetime, except the things that didn't matter at all to Dean.
Forever was a kids game. Because when you were a kid it was okay to believe that mummy and daddy would live forever. It was okay to think that. But when mummy and daddy were dead and you'd danced with Death one too many times, you weren't entitled to believe that anymore.
So for Dean, forever became a little while. And a little while became moments like this. Fucking dirty girls on dirty sheets. And when he said dirty he meant dirty; blood and mud and ashes smeared across their skin. Because that's what happened when a girl hotwired your car and hightailed it, leaving you behind to fend off a minor league of fire demons while your brother was fuck-knows-where.
But he dealt with it. Because that's what he did. Mom dead? Dad dead? Fucking deal. Get over it and move the fuck on. There wasn't time to stop and think and consider. And yeah, it made him angry, but whatever. Not alot to be done about it. Couldn't complain, because Sammy would never understand why he couldn't just stop for one fucking second and breath. And he didn't want to admit to anyone how close he was to giving up, so close that he was scared to take a minute and just think.
He was covered in shit and close to collapse when she pulled up beside him later, in his fucking car, with Sammy sat beside her in the passanger's seat looking concerned. He'd managed to kill four of the fuckers, sending ashes and demon guts flying everywhere, but two had escaped, he told his brother.
And she just fucking smirked and casually informed him that her and "Sammy-boy here" had taken care of the strays, as well as the leader of the pack. She'd left him to handle the minors while she went to deal with the Big-Bad, only to find Sam getting his face mashed in by the Big-Bad himself.
Whatever. She stole his fucking car.
He was pissed about it for a while. At least for the twenty minutes it took them to drive back to the motel and the extra ten it took to get her the fuck out of his car. It didn't matter that she was hot. It didn't matter that the way she could beat the shit out of anything or anyone made him hard. The bitch. Stole. His. Fucking. Car.
And then, when she pulled him into her motel room without a word (and to Sam's surprise), he wasn't really pissed anymore. He was angry, and that was different. It went deeper. Because he was angry at this girl in tight black leather for taking the job out of his hands, for being the one to save his brother, for the way she took charge and expected them to follow. It made him feel useless. And aimless. And angry.
He still let her kiss him. And he kissed her back.
He kind of forgave her as he stripped her out of that tight black leather and slid inside. Because he remembered the night before, when she'd told them who she was, why she was here. A vampire slayer. A born leader. Taking charge was what she did, and it was one of many things they no doubt had in common.
But he was still angry. Because his mom was dead and his dad was dead and his brother just wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. It was like he wanted Dean to hurt over it, like it would somehow prove that he was still human and not a walking time-bomb waiting to go off. What a fucking crock of shit.
And this girl didn't understand it, but he had a feeling that, if he told her, she would. But he didn't tell her. Didn't want to tell her. Because that meant thinking about it. It meant stopping to take a breath and really thinking about it. And he couldn't do that. Wouldn't do that. He was too close to giving up for that shit.
So he dealt with it. And he stayed angry. And the girl (Faith. Always Faith. Never fucking Hope) didn't care, because she was angry, too, living for moments like this that might have been a little while not long ago, or forever once upon a time.
Because this? This wasn't forever. It never could be.
And that was okay.
I hope you like. It's my first attempt at writing Supernatural fic. Ha.
So here you go, profshallowness:
It wasn't forever, but that was okay.
He'd given up on that a long time ago. Nothing was forever. Nothing lived or lasted past a lifetime, except the things that didn't matter at all to Dean.
Forever was a kids game. Because when you were a kid it was okay to believe that mummy and daddy would live forever. It was okay to think that. But when mummy and daddy were dead and you'd danced with Death one too many times, you weren't entitled to believe that anymore.
So for Dean, forever became a little while. And a little while became moments like this. Fucking dirty girls on dirty sheets. And when he said dirty he meant dirty; blood and mud and ashes smeared across their skin. Because that's what happened when a girl hotwired your car and hightailed it, leaving you behind to fend off a minor league of fire demons while your brother was fuck-knows-where.
But he dealt with it. Because that's what he did. Mom dead? Dad dead? Fucking deal. Get over it and move the fuck on. There wasn't time to stop and think and consider. And yeah, it made him angry, but whatever. Not alot to be done about it. Couldn't complain, because Sammy would never understand why he couldn't just stop for one fucking second and breath. And he didn't want to admit to anyone how close he was to giving up, so close that he was scared to take a minute and just think.
He was covered in shit and close to collapse when she pulled up beside him later, in his fucking car, with Sammy sat beside her in the passanger's seat looking concerned. He'd managed to kill four of the fuckers, sending ashes and demon guts flying everywhere, but two had escaped, he told his brother.
And she just fucking smirked and casually informed him that her and "Sammy-boy here" had taken care of the strays, as well as the leader of the pack. She'd left him to handle the minors while she went to deal with the Big-Bad, only to find Sam getting his face mashed in by the Big-Bad himself.
Whatever. She stole his fucking car.
He was pissed about it for a while. At least for the twenty minutes it took them to drive back to the motel and the extra ten it took to get her the fuck out of his car. It didn't matter that she was hot. It didn't matter that the way she could beat the shit out of anything or anyone made him hard. The bitch. Stole. His. Fucking. Car.
And then, when she pulled him into her motel room without a word (and to Sam's surprise), he wasn't really pissed anymore. He was angry, and that was different. It went deeper. Because he was angry at this girl in tight black leather for taking the job out of his hands, for being the one to save his brother, for the way she took charge and expected them to follow. It made him feel useless. And aimless. And angry.
He still let her kiss him. And he kissed her back.
He kind of forgave her as he stripped her out of that tight black leather and slid inside. Because he remembered the night before, when she'd told them who she was, why she was here. A vampire slayer. A born leader. Taking charge was what she did, and it was one of many things they no doubt had in common.
But he was still angry. Because his mom was dead and his dad was dead and his brother just wouldn't shut the fuck up about it. It was like he wanted Dean to hurt over it, like it would somehow prove that he was still human and not a walking time-bomb waiting to go off. What a fucking crock of shit.
And this girl didn't understand it, but he had a feeling that, if he told her, she would. But he didn't tell her. Didn't want to tell her. Because that meant thinking about it. It meant stopping to take a breath and really thinking about it. And he couldn't do that. Wouldn't do that. He was too close to giving up for that shit.
So he dealt with it. And he stayed angry. And the girl (Faith. Always Faith. Never fucking Hope) didn't care, because she was angry, too, living for moments like this that might have been a little while not long ago, or forever once upon a time.
Because this? This wasn't forever. It never could be.
And that was okay.
I hope you like. It's my first attempt at writing Supernatural fic. Ha.