Wish somebody would tell me I'm fine (Season 7 spoilers)
Dean's close to breaking point. this is just my interpretation of how it might go.
27/10/2011: knightcons Drew a lovely fanart linked to this. <3
Dean had reached it, and he knew it. Breaking point. that point in time when He just wants to make good on that comment to Bobby about driving his car off the damned pier. Bobby's house... Sam... Cas... it was all too much. He had to escape the confines of the house that was currently playing host to them. It was claustrophobic, it was restricting his breathing, he felt like he was constantly being watched. When Sam and Bobby both appeared to be asleep, he slipped silently out into the rain. He didn't go far, just to the car. It was the one damned thing that had stayed the same through everything - hell, he'd made sure of that when he'd had to rebuild her.
Before he even realised what he was doing, he popped the trunk, and pulled the trench coat from it. Damned thing seemed so still. It had been full of movement when it had housed the angel. He didn't care that the thing was still dirty. He slammed the hood of the impala, and yelled at the sky "YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!" at Cas, at Sam...at himself. He sank to the wet, muddy ground and he leaned back against the impala, picking up the coat and let it just dangle from his hands between his legs to the ground.
He tilted his head up into the rain. Was it rain, tears, blood? did it matter? Would he be able to tell the difference between the three any more? the rain fell against his face, and other than blinking it away from his eyes - which was more a reflexive reaction - he made no move to do anything except sit. did it feel like the rain was washing anything away? Cleansing him? Not at all. He had the burdens of the damned world on his shoulders, and one by one his supports that he used to prop them up were crumbling away. He'd lost Cas. He was losing Sam by the second. Bobby... well. How long would it be before he saw that Dean was screwing it all up; wasn't worth the effort because he could fix or change any damned thing? How long before Bobby left or got broken somehow too?
He sat, and felt the burdens crushing him, trying to breathe against the weight in his chest. He sat in silence, but the silence screamed at the sky why the hell can't any one save me, too? He saved the damned world, he was trying to save Sam, trying to save the very little family he had left any more, and for one of the rare times in his life, he was trying to cry for help, and the damned words couldn't come.
So he just sat, trapped in a silent scream as the world carried on around him.
What can I do?
Nothing, the answer seemed.
27/10/2011: knightcons Drew a lovely fanart linked to this. <3
Dean had reached it, and he knew it. Breaking point. that point in time when He just wants to make good on that comment to Bobby about driving his car off the damned pier. Bobby's house... Sam... Cas... it was all too much. He had to escape the confines of the house that was currently playing host to them. It was claustrophobic, it was restricting his breathing, he felt like he was constantly being watched. When Sam and Bobby both appeared to be asleep, he slipped silently out into the rain. He didn't go far, just to the car. It was the one damned thing that had stayed the same through everything - hell, he'd made sure of that when he'd had to rebuild her.
Before he even realised what he was doing, he popped the trunk, and pulled the trench coat from it. Damned thing seemed so still. It had been full of movement when it had housed the angel. He didn't care that the thing was still dirty. He slammed the hood of the impala, and yelled at the sky "YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!" at Cas, at Sam...at himself. He sank to the wet, muddy ground and he leaned back against the impala, picking up the coat and let it just dangle from his hands between his legs to the ground.
He tilted his head up into the rain. Was it rain, tears, blood? did it matter? Would he be able to tell the difference between the three any more? the rain fell against his face, and other than blinking it away from his eyes - which was more a reflexive reaction - he made no move to do anything except sit. did it feel like the rain was washing anything away? Cleansing him? Not at all. He had the burdens of the damned world on his shoulders, and one by one his supports that he used to prop them up were crumbling away. He'd lost Cas. He was losing Sam by the second. Bobby... well. How long would it be before he saw that Dean was screwing it all up; wasn't worth the effort because he could fix or change any damned thing? How long before Bobby left or got broken somehow too?
He sat, and felt the burdens crushing him, trying to breathe against the weight in his chest. He sat in silence, but the silence screamed at the sky why the hell can't any one save me, too? He saved the damned world, he was trying to save Sam, trying to save the very little family he had left any more, and for one of the rare times in his life, he was trying to cry for help, and the damned words couldn't come.
So he just sat, trapped in a silent scream as the world carried on around him.
What can I do?
Nothing, the answer seemed.