SPN: "Come Undone"
Category: Supernatural
Title: Come Undone
Genre: General/Angst
Rating: Fiction Rated: T
Summary: Some questions Dean can't banish from his mind. Post "Born Under A Bad Sign."
Demons prey on weakness. On vulnerability. They take over the minds of people who are panicked, anxious, worried, sometimes even crazed.
So how did the yellow-eyed demon get into Dad? No matter how wrong it was, that man was never anxious. He never panicked. Whatever decision he made might turn out to be the wrong one, but once he made the call, he never backed down. He'd keep on being wrong just for the sake of not second-guessing himself.
That's not me. Everybody thinks I'm fearless, but it's a cover. I'm just acting the way he taught me. Inside--
I'm the one who had to worry about the consequences. I'm the one who had to patch him up when he came home. I'm the one who had to make sure Sammy was fed and more or less clean, the one who had to explain to the teachers why we were on our fifth broken bone of the year. I make decisions quick, sure--Dad wasn't one for letting you think things through--but even when I make one, I'm still turning the possibilities over in my head. I still take responsibility when something goes wrong, when we can't save someone. Sammy might shed the tears, but I'm the one who feels it.
And then there's Sammy. So fucking sure of what he wants, always going straight after it. Always did. Kid damned near broke my arm once when I got between him and a library. The problem with him and Dad was always that they were too much alike. Dad hated it, and he understood it--and Sammy hated it, and he understood it. Even if they wouldn't admit it.
Me? I was just the one that kept all that friction from starting a fire.
Sammy's like Dad. Make a decision, charge headlong. He thinks a little bit more about the bystanders, but still, he's capable of some serious tunnel vision. Even in all that pansy-ass touchy-feely crap, he's determined. Once he chooses to angst about something, God Himself better not get in the way. Don't even think about arguing if he thinks it's time to talk. He'll just stare at you with those puppy-dog eyes until you break. Believe me, I know. I'm the one he practiced on until he got it right.
Me? I'm hanging on to an illusion of a family we never really had, because I've got nothing else to hold on to. The things Dad said to me before he died--they tore me apart inside, still do. I mean, what am I without Sammy around? Just another idiot hunter who's gonna get himself killed before he's thirty. Hell, I've nearly died twice now. Third time could be the charm.
And it bothers me. Sweet Jesus, it bothers me. Sammy doesn't see it. Maybe I'm that good an actor, maybe he just doesn't want to, but god damn it, I'm a wreck. I've got enough guilt stored up to choke the Vatican. The only reason I sleep more than Sammy is because of his nightmares.
So why would a demon go after Sammy, and not after me? Sure, he was a little torn up by that whole angel thing, but that much? Enough for a demon to slip through the chinks and possess him? And how did one--even one as powerful as Yellow Eyes is supposed to be--get into Dad?
It doesn't make sense. I'm the tormented one. The doubter. Sammy's faltering right now, sure, but it's just shock, he's still solid inside. Still Sammy.
I just don't get it.
Why don't they come after me?
Title: Come Undone
Genre: General/Angst
Rating: Fiction Rated: T
Summary: Some questions Dean can't banish from his mind. Post "Born Under A Bad Sign."
Demons prey on weakness. On vulnerability. They take over the minds of people who are panicked, anxious, worried, sometimes even crazed.
So how did the yellow-eyed demon get into Dad? No matter how wrong it was, that man was never anxious. He never panicked. Whatever decision he made might turn out to be the wrong one, but once he made the call, he never backed down. He'd keep on being wrong just for the sake of not second-guessing himself.
That's not me. Everybody thinks I'm fearless, but it's a cover. I'm just acting the way he taught me. Inside--
I'm the one who had to worry about the consequences. I'm the one who had to patch him up when he came home. I'm the one who had to make sure Sammy was fed and more or less clean, the one who had to explain to the teachers why we were on our fifth broken bone of the year. I make decisions quick, sure--Dad wasn't one for letting you think things through--but even when I make one, I'm still turning the possibilities over in my head. I still take responsibility when something goes wrong, when we can't save someone. Sammy might shed the tears, but I'm the one who feels it.
And then there's Sammy. So fucking sure of what he wants, always going straight after it. Always did. Kid damned near broke my arm once when I got between him and a library. The problem with him and Dad was always that they were too much alike. Dad hated it, and he understood it--and Sammy hated it, and he understood it. Even if they wouldn't admit it.
Me? I was just the one that kept all that friction from starting a fire.
Sammy's like Dad. Make a decision, charge headlong. He thinks a little bit more about the bystanders, but still, he's capable of some serious tunnel vision. Even in all that pansy-ass touchy-feely crap, he's determined. Once he chooses to angst about something, God Himself better not get in the way. Don't even think about arguing if he thinks it's time to talk. He'll just stare at you with those puppy-dog eyes until you break. Believe me, I know. I'm the one he practiced on until he got it right.
Me? I'm hanging on to an illusion of a family we never really had, because I've got nothing else to hold on to. The things Dad said to me before he died--they tore me apart inside, still do. I mean, what am I without Sammy around? Just another idiot hunter who's gonna get himself killed before he's thirty. Hell, I've nearly died twice now. Third time could be the charm.
And it bothers me. Sweet Jesus, it bothers me. Sammy doesn't see it. Maybe I'm that good an actor, maybe he just doesn't want to, but god damn it, I'm a wreck. I've got enough guilt stored up to choke the Vatican. The only reason I sleep more than Sammy is because of his nightmares.
So why would a demon go after Sammy, and not after me? Sure, he was a little torn up by that whole angel thing, but that much? Enough for a demon to slip through the chinks and possess him? And how did one--even one as powerful as Yellow Eyes is supposed to be--get into Dad?
It doesn't make sense. I'm the tormented one. The doubter. Sammy's faltering right now, sure, but it's just shock, he's still solid inside. Still Sammy.
I just don't get it.
Why don't they come after me?