you are my sweetest downfall
May. 13th, 2010 04:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withimpunityWell, I'm pretty fucking nervous about the spn season finale. So I decided to exorcise my anxiety with a little bit of self-serving fic. Its hurty and its totally and I mean TOTALLY self-indulgent because I need them to have this moment. I need it like I need food and air and mountain dew in my veins. So there's that.
Also, have a song. Samson - Regina Spektor. Its been my SamnDean song every since I heard it and sometimes I cry, just listening to it going down the road. You can listen to it while you read. And cry. I'm hoping, maybe I can get all my crying out NOW and won't have to come eight o'clock tonight. Ha!
Well, I Was Gonna Walk You Off A Cliff and Hand You An Anvil
Sam and Dean
977 Words
the bible didn't mention us
"Hey, Sammy. Whatcha doing?"
"You're kidding," Sam's laughter is brittle and knife-like; Dean feels it in his gut like a bleeding wound. Sam smiles down upon him with pity, with disgust. "Even for you - poor, simple Dean - this is pathetic."
Dean shrugs casually, lets it roll off his shoulders like its no big thing. Just the end of the world, his world. "What'd you expect?"
"So we're actually going to do this?" Sam's lips curve unnaturally, reminds Dean of sulfur and screaming. "You go, I go? Defy the stars and all of that?" His head cocks to the side, pitying. "It's not going to work, Dean."
Dean closes his eyes for a brief second, inhales the air around him. False bravado is his specialty. "Yeah," he says. "I know. Don't really have anything better to do."
Sam chuckles under his breath with an air of patronizing annoyance, eyeballing him curiously. "You still think this is going to work." It almost sounds like a question.
"Nope," Dean's laugh is humorless. "Not really. But my brother, he's in there. I know he's in there and he's fighting this and he's suffering and there isn't one other place that I'm gonna be right now." He looks the thing using his brother's body right in the eyes. "I'm here, Sammy."
"Sammy's gone, Dean," the devil smiles broadly and it lights up the sky.
"No," Dean says firmly, because he has to believe it. Even if he's the only one that does. "No, Sam. You're still in there. You're still -"
Dean's world goes stark white for a moment as something slices into him, feels like his guts are spilling out into his hands, blood pooling beneath his shirt. He gasps for air, for words, and somehow manages to get back up, to stand. "Remember," he chokes on blood, spits it out on the ground next to his foot. "Remember when you were seven years old and - and there was this tornado, in Georgia."
"You're pathetic."
"You were so scared you pissed the bed and I remember - I remember thinking that's how I wanted you to stay, scared like hell 'cause of a little bad weather. I love you, Sammy - aaaaugghhhh!" He screams, his insides twisted up like one big pretzel, coughing up blood, his ribs tightening, breaking, gasping for air.
"You're embarrassing yourself," Sam sneers, annoyance curling his lips.
Dean bites through, pushes on. "Y-you're not a little kid anymore though. I've always treated you like it, but truth is, I've known for a long time I couldn't protect you anymore. I wanted to, God I wanted to, though." Sam flexes his wrist and Dean's body stiffens, his head slamming into the concrete beneath them. He feels, hears, something crack, feels nauseous for a few seconds. "I love you, Sam." Crack. His lip, fat and bloody, blood running over out and over his mouth like a river, right eye swollen shut and black and blue. "All of it, the whole thing. Scared little kid or demonic son of a bitch. I love all of you, Sammy. So if this is it, if this is the end, just do it." He's crying now, salty tears mingling in his wounds, stinging deep. "Just kill me first, I'm the one that let you do this. I deserve that much."
"You really think I won't?" Satan smiles down upon him, an angelic smile that makes you want to beg for death. "Dean, I'm going to take you apart, piece by piece. Take my time putting you back together just to do it all over again. "
"Doesn't matter," Dean gasps, clutching at his ribs. They feel weird and deformed beneath his fingers, out of place. "Still my brother. I'll still love-"
"Enough!" Sam screams and the trees around them shudder; Dean hears branches cracking, tumbling down to the earth's floor. The devil's power lashes across Dean's face like barbed wire.
"I love you, Sammy." Dean sobs uncontrollably, on hands and feet, struggling to push himself off the ground. When one of Sam's boots connects with his side, he thinks he might pass out, the pain so vivid and raw, breaking him open, but he can't. He fights, just like he knows his brother is fighting in there, fighting just as hard - harder.
"Why," The Devil grits out, the cool, restrained demeanor lost from his expression. He looks ragged now, like he wants to pull at his hair and stomp around and beat his fists on things. "I don't get you."
And that, that's all Dean needed. The pain, the blood, the broken bones and flesh and heart and soul, its like its all been mended. He manages to get himself to his knees as he looks up at Sam, at the Devil, swollen eye and bloody mouth, and smiles.
"They never do, do they, Sammy?"
Lucifer raises Sam's hand, eyes thin and tight, and Dean closes his eyes. This is it, he thinks. I gave it everything. We gave it everything. Nothing else we could've done. He braces for it and he waits. He prays.
"Dean? Oh god, Dean."
Dean opens his eyes (eye) and gasps, tears and blood flowing freely, Sam's hands cradling his face, slipping down around his neck, pulling Dean into his shoulder.
"I love you, too." Sam says softly, lips against Dean's hair. "Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah." Dean mutters, the adrenaline spike slowly trickling away, letting the reality of all that crippling, searing pain back in. "Go do the thing."
"Okay," Sam murmurs, letting Dean go gently, hesitantly, catching his chin to make Dean focus on his eyes. Beautiful, big brown eyes. "I'll see you in a few minutes."
Dean nods, leaning into the hand on his cheek. "I'll be here."
Also, have a song. Samson - Regina Spektor. Its been my SamnDean song every since I heard it and sometimes I cry, just listening to it going down the road. You can listen to it while you read. And cry. I'm hoping, maybe I can get all my crying out NOW and won't have to come eight o'clock tonight. Ha!
Well, I Was Gonna Walk You Off A Cliff and Hand You An Anvil
Sam and Dean
977 Words
the bible didn't mention us
"Hey, Sammy. Whatcha doing?"
"You're kidding," Sam's laughter is brittle and knife-like; Dean feels it in his gut like a bleeding wound. Sam smiles down upon him with pity, with disgust. "Even for you - poor, simple Dean - this is pathetic."
Dean shrugs casually, lets it roll off his shoulders like its no big thing. Just the end of the world, his world. "What'd you expect?"
"So we're actually going to do this?" Sam's lips curve unnaturally, reminds Dean of sulfur and screaming. "You go, I go? Defy the stars and all of that?" His head cocks to the side, pitying. "It's not going to work, Dean."
Dean closes his eyes for a brief second, inhales the air around him. False bravado is his specialty. "Yeah," he says. "I know. Don't really have anything better to do."
Sam chuckles under his breath with an air of patronizing annoyance, eyeballing him curiously. "You still think this is going to work." It almost sounds like a question.
"Nope," Dean's laugh is humorless. "Not really. But my brother, he's in there. I know he's in there and he's fighting this and he's suffering and there isn't one other place that I'm gonna be right now." He looks the thing using his brother's body right in the eyes. "I'm here, Sammy."
"Sammy's gone, Dean," the devil smiles broadly and it lights up the sky.
"No," Dean says firmly, because he has to believe it. Even if he's the only one that does. "No, Sam. You're still in there. You're still -"
Dean's world goes stark white for a moment as something slices into him, feels like his guts are spilling out into his hands, blood pooling beneath his shirt. He gasps for air, for words, and somehow manages to get back up, to stand. "Remember," he chokes on blood, spits it out on the ground next to his foot. "Remember when you were seven years old and - and there was this tornado, in Georgia."
"You're pathetic."
"You were so scared you pissed the bed and I remember - I remember thinking that's how I wanted you to stay, scared like hell 'cause of a little bad weather. I love you, Sammy - aaaaugghhhh!" He screams, his insides twisted up like one big pretzel, coughing up blood, his ribs tightening, breaking, gasping for air.
"You're embarrassing yourself," Sam sneers, annoyance curling his lips.
Dean bites through, pushes on. "Y-you're not a little kid anymore though. I've always treated you like it, but truth is, I've known for a long time I couldn't protect you anymore. I wanted to, God I wanted to, though." Sam flexes his wrist and Dean's body stiffens, his head slamming into the concrete beneath them. He feels, hears, something crack, feels nauseous for a few seconds. "I love you, Sam." Crack. His lip, fat and bloody, blood running over out and over his mouth like a river, right eye swollen shut and black and blue. "All of it, the whole thing. Scared little kid or demonic son of a bitch. I love all of you, Sammy. So if this is it, if this is the end, just do it." He's crying now, salty tears mingling in his wounds, stinging deep. "Just kill me first, I'm the one that let you do this. I deserve that much."
"You really think I won't?" Satan smiles down upon him, an angelic smile that makes you want to beg for death. "Dean, I'm going to take you apart, piece by piece. Take my time putting you back together just to do it all over again. "
"Doesn't matter," Dean gasps, clutching at his ribs. They feel weird and deformed beneath his fingers, out of place. "Still my brother. I'll still love-"
"Enough!" Sam screams and the trees around them shudder; Dean hears branches cracking, tumbling down to the earth's floor. The devil's power lashes across Dean's face like barbed wire.
"I love you, Sammy." Dean sobs uncontrollably, on hands and feet, struggling to push himself off the ground. When one of Sam's boots connects with his side, he thinks he might pass out, the pain so vivid and raw, breaking him open, but he can't. He fights, just like he knows his brother is fighting in there, fighting just as hard - harder.
"Why," The Devil grits out, the cool, restrained demeanor lost from his expression. He looks ragged now, like he wants to pull at his hair and stomp around and beat his fists on things. "I don't get you."
And that, that's all Dean needed. The pain, the blood, the broken bones and flesh and heart and soul, its like its all been mended. He manages to get himself to his knees as he looks up at Sam, at the Devil, swollen eye and bloody mouth, and smiles.
"They never do, do they, Sammy?"
Lucifer raises Sam's hand, eyes thin and tight, and Dean closes his eyes. This is it, he thinks. I gave it everything. We gave it everything. Nothing else we could've done. He braces for it and he waits. He prays.
"Dean? Oh god, Dean."
Dean opens his eyes (eye) and gasps, tears and blood flowing freely, Sam's hands cradling his face, slipping down around his neck, pulling Dean into his shoulder.
"I love you, too." Sam says softly, lips against Dean's hair. "Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah." Dean mutters, the adrenaline spike slowly trickling away, letting the reality of all that crippling, searing pain back in. "Go do the thing."
"Okay," Sam murmurs, letting Dean go gently, hesitantly, catching his chin to make Dean focus on his eyes. Beautiful, big brown eyes. "I'll see you in a few minutes."
Dean nods, leaning into the hand on his cheek. "I'll be here."
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 08:18 pm (UTC)Lucifer is my favorite Winchester.This was heart-breaking. God. Dean, you're ridiculous in how passionate and determined you are.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-13 09:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 04:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 04:47 am (UTC)"I'm here, Sammy."
<3
no subject
Date: 2010-05-14 04:55 am (UTC)Even the place where they threw down looked like the hill where the yellow crayon speech happened. \o/
*goes about happily ignoring The Rest*