Fic: Inconstant (Supernatural)
Title: Inconstant
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Gen, mention of Sam/Jess
Warnings: Spoilers for 4.20 - 'Rapture'
Disclaimer: I make no attempt to pretend that I own the fandom(s) herein, or any of the associated characters
Summary: Your constant, the one thing you thought you could always trust, is gone
[I'd like to state for the record that I'm a self confessed Dean-girl, and I have no idea where the fuck this came from]
~*~
You've had a long time to get used to disappointment. Your whole life, in fact. A childhood spent thinking maybe this time Dad will be home for my birthday. You know all about disappointment from the other side as well. The tightening of a jaw, a narrowing of eyes, the blank expression that said you should have done better. A lifetime of being the troublemaker, the problem child, the one who asks too many questions.
You've had a long time to get used to disillusionment. A grimy, inglorious reality of a life that was never going to measure up to the stories made of it, the excuses given, the well-meaning lies of an almost-parent still a child himself. And then thinking that leaving would change everything, that you could be free...only to be brutally dragged back into a life you never wanted but can't escape. Only to see your own ideals tarnished and tainted beyond recognition.
You've had a long time to get used to loss. From the sharp, heartsick pain of death - mother, father, brother, lover - to the more mundane separation of always moving on: no home, no friends, no safe little life with a white picket fence. Nothing certain except the knowledge that nothing lasts forever.
And while it wasn't exactly pleasant you coped, adapted, survived, and moved on. Even in the darkest of times, you always found something: a plan, an inspiration, some spark of hope. Through everything there was one certainty, one simple fact that nothing could alter: you were loved.
You were loved. No matter how badly you screwed up, there was always someone to help you fix it. No matter what you did wrong, there was always someone who cared enough to be angry at you, to call you out on it, and to ultimately forgive you. No matter how terrible things seemed, some part of you was always safe in that knowledge.
When you were a toddler with a dead mother and an absent father, there was someone to applaud your first hesitant steps, to hold you when you woke from a nightmare, to simply be there. When you were a child wanting to know where your dad was, why you couldn't stay at one school, why you didn't have a house like all your classmates, there was someone to force themselves to be patient and try to give you the answers you wanted. All through your life, this has been above question.
Even in the worst time of your life, alone and grieving and afraid, that knowledge was still there. Something almost no-one else on this world or any other can know for sure: someone loved you enough to go to Hell for you.
But this is different. Suddenly you have no point of reference - nothing to strive for, nothing to try and save, nothing to rely on. Your constant, the one thing you thought you could always trust, is gone. It's like discovering that actually things fall up, that the sky isn't really blue.
Dean's given up on you.
And nothing is ever going to make that okay.
~*fin*~
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Gen, mention of Sam/Jess
Warnings: Spoilers for 4.20 - 'Rapture'
Disclaimer: I make no attempt to pretend that I own the fandom(s) herein, or any of the associated characters
Summary: Your constant, the one thing you thought you could always trust, is gone
[I'd like to state for the record that I'm a self confessed Dean-girl, and I have no idea where the fuck this came from]
~*~
You've had a long time to get used to disappointment. Your whole life, in fact. A childhood spent thinking maybe this time Dad will be home for my birthday. You know all about disappointment from the other side as well. The tightening of a jaw, a narrowing of eyes, the blank expression that said you should have done better. A lifetime of being the troublemaker, the problem child, the one who asks too many questions.
You've had a long time to get used to disillusionment. A grimy, inglorious reality of a life that was never going to measure up to the stories made of it, the excuses given, the well-meaning lies of an almost-parent still a child himself. And then thinking that leaving would change everything, that you could be free...only to be brutally dragged back into a life you never wanted but can't escape. Only to see your own ideals tarnished and tainted beyond recognition.
You've had a long time to get used to loss. From the sharp, heartsick pain of death - mother, father, brother, lover - to the more mundane separation of always moving on: no home, no friends, no safe little life with a white picket fence. Nothing certain except the knowledge that nothing lasts forever.
And while it wasn't exactly pleasant you coped, adapted, survived, and moved on. Even in the darkest of times, you always found something: a plan, an inspiration, some spark of hope. Through everything there was one certainty, one simple fact that nothing could alter: you were loved.
You were loved. No matter how badly you screwed up, there was always someone to help you fix it. No matter what you did wrong, there was always someone who cared enough to be angry at you, to call you out on it, and to ultimately forgive you. No matter how terrible things seemed, some part of you was always safe in that knowledge.
When you were a toddler with a dead mother and an absent father, there was someone to applaud your first hesitant steps, to hold you when you woke from a nightmare, to simply be there. When you were a child wanting to know where your dad was, why you couldn't stay at one school, why you didn't have a house like all your classmates, there was someone to force themselves to be patient and try to give you the answers you wanted. All through your life, this has been above question.
Even in the worst time of your life, alone and grieving and afraid, that knowledge was still there. Something almost no-one else on this world or any other can know for sure: someone loved you enough to go to Hell for you.
But this is different. Suddenly you have no point of reference - nothing to strive for, nothing to try and save, nothing to rely on. Your constant, the one thing you thought you could always trust, is gone. It's like discovering that actually things fall up, that the sky isn't really blue.
Dean's given up on you.
And nothing is ever going to make that okay.
~*fin*~