[apocalypse]
Title: [apocalypse]
Rating: PG-13
Series: Supernatural
Summary: his world ended first and ours came next
The end came, slow, sneaky, and without fanfare.
The end came with rain and the smell of old country and slowly spiraled out into flames and silent tears, and whatever else, he didn't hear, because it didn't even matter.
The end may have come for them in stages, but it came to him in one moment.
The end came for him when his brother breathed one last breath and slumped in his arms in an old country road, a knife in his back.
*
She smiles at him, eyes red.
He is a desperate man, she knows.
But not desperate enough.
*
He shoots her point blank and goes back to his brother's body.
The end has come and he cannot reverse it.
*
His brother, he has burned when the moon was full and there was enough whiskey to both fuel the fire and to wash away his memories. He pretends not the hear the screams of the people he used to know and the demons he doesn't know echoing in the night.
He just burns his brother and drinks and contemplates maybe playing Russian Roulette to pass the time.
Then he remembers that he already has played it and lost.
*
He doesn't struggle, not really.
Sure, he shoots, bucks against them, but he's not fighting.
Not really.
She knows this as she looks at him with eyes blank as clouds that used to inhabit the sky, eyes whiter than the marble floor she walks upon to touch his face. He looks at her with a blankness that she's only seen in the most defeated, most downtrodden.
She sees no amusement in him, because the end came for him first.
She drains his living life from him, as a mercy, and lets another take it.
*
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
- T.S. Eliot
"The Hollow Men"
Rating: PG-13
Series: Supernatural
Summary: his world ended first and ours came next
The end came, slow, sneaky, and without fanfare.
The end came with rain and the smell of old country and slowly spiraled out into flames and silent tears, and whatever else, he didn't hear, because it didn't even matter.
The end may have come for them in stages, but it came to him in one moment.
The end came for him when his brother breathed one last breath and slumped in his arms in an old country road, a knife in his back.
*
She smiles at him, eyes red.
He is a desperate man, she knows.
But not desperate enough.
*
He shoots her point blank and goes back to his brother's body.
The end has come and he cannot reverse it.
*
His brother, he has burned when the moon was full and there was enough whiskey to both fuel the fire and to wash away his memories. He pretends not the hear the screams of the people he used to know and the demons he doesn't know echoing in the night.
He just burns his brother and drinks and contemplates maybe playing Russian Roulette to pass the time.
Then he remembers that he already has played it and lost.
*
He doesn't struggle, not really.
Sure, he shoots, bucks against them, but he's not fighting.
Not really.
She knows this as she looks at him with eyes blank as clouds that used to inhabit the sky, eyes whiter than the marble floor she walks upon to touch his face. He looks at her with a blankness that she's only seen in the most defeated, most downtrodden.
She sees no amusement in him, because the end came for him first.
She drains his living life from him, as a mercy, and lets another take it.
*
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
- T.S. Eliot
"The Hollow Men"