I wrote fic, y'all
The SPN finale has been occupying my brain for the last few days... so much so that I WROTE FIC. I've written fic before, but very occasionally and never for Show. So here it is, unbeta-ed and banged out rather quickly. :-)
Dedicated to lizajaneok in honor of her birthday. ♥
Remains by xenachakram12
Dean, gen, rated G. 267 words.
You don’t want to.
You don’t want to, but it’s been a presence in your car since he left. It’s heavy and still, a cadaver in the trunk. You need to just get rid of it, salt it and burn it, but you can’t help looking.
You open the trunk and it sits there, just like always. It’s easy to pretend that you’re fetching it for him-that he’s already inside, knee-deep in mythology, doing the work you’d rather not.
You take it in with you. You walk past the rooms where people are likely to find you to the porch at the back of the house. It’s old and worn in your hand; familiar.
You open the duffle. You nearly expect the world to shatter, as if the contents will somehow change everything. They don’t. There are only clothes and shoes and the smell of him. You shut it again.
Standing up, you run your hands through your hair. It’s too much… Some things are better left undone. You go to grab it-violent-ready to stuff it somewhere to make it no longer exist.
You feel something hard and sharp in your palm. It’s in an outside zipper pocket… not inside with what’s left of him-safe. You open it, slowly enough to hear the individual clicks of the teeth.
There it is. It’s the thing you left behind long ago: a head with two horns, attached to a cord. Your eyes burn and your hands shake. You think about what it is, what it means, what it used to mean.
You put it on.