In Memory (Prologue)
In Memory
By Carol M
Prologue
No one told me the way I should feel
You left an aching heart
Lost and lonely, the feeling goes on
You were the one friend I had
You gave me so much love
Now the tears remind me you're gone
It still haunts me there's a silence
Where you used to be
It still haunts me
Just an empty space in history
It still haunts me
But life must go on, on and on
It's still haunting me
It's still haunting me
Haunting me
Haunting me
In Memory by Black Sabbath
Teaser
John could still feel the warmth of Dean’s breath blowing across his neck every few, albeit long, moments. There was still a chance. His son wasn’t dead yet.
With a scamper nearly worthy of a sprint, John shucked past tree after tree with Dean’s limp body cradled in his arms, continuously hoping that just beyond the next branch he’d find the Impala and get the transportation to the life-saving care Dean so desperately needed.
“It’s gotta be close,” John muttered to himself, hating the silence that served as Dean’s reply.
John renewed the pressure on the bloody stab wound in Dean’s chest and pressed his head against Dean’s, blood from a gash on his son’s forehead staining his own cheek. “You stay alive, you hear me. That’s an order!”
Dean didn’t stir.
John never felt more alone in his life than he did at that moment, not even the night when he had lost Mary and this whole detour into hell had started. If Sam’s departure had left a thick chasm of loss and misery in his soul, Dean’s death would crush him and he wouldn’t survive it. He’d have nothing left to lose and nothing remaining to live for.
A glint of metal caught his eye and John nearly dropped his bloodied, lifeless burden, he was that relieved. He sped up his step, acutely aware now of how much Dean weighed and how far he’d hefted him through the woods, as his body physically ached with the charge. Closer and closer the shine of the metal came, looking less and less like a mirage and more and more like salvation as relief flooded through his veins.
Then his heart dropped from out of his chest and landed at his feet. “No,” he gasped in a choked breath bordering on a sob.
The back tire was flat, which wouldn’t have been a problem as he’d got the spare, except for the fact that the front tire was flat too. So was the front one on the other side. And the back one too. She had done this. John knew it in his gut. Even in the end, that bitch was making sure she got her revenge. Making sure she got the last laugh.
John collapsed to the ground as his body gave out on him, taking Dean down with him. “I’m sorry,” John whispered, pulling Dean in a tight hug against him, his hand coming up to rub Dean’s hair and the back of his neck. John fought back tears as he drew Dean even tighter against him, tucking Dean’s head under his own, his chin resting on Dean’s hair as arms squeezed around his son like a vise, desperate to still feel the life that was slowly ebbing out of him.
“I’m so sorry.” John couldn’t control the tears that sprung out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, their final resting place in Dean’s bloody, matted hair.
TBC
By Carol M
Prologue
No one told me the way I should feel
You left an aching heart
Lost and lonely, the feeling goes on
You were the one friend I had
You gave me so much love
Now the tears remind me you're gone
It still haunts me there's a silence
Where you used to be
It still haunts me
Just an empty space in history
It still haunts me
But life must go on, on and on
It's still haunting me
It's still haunting me
Haunting me
Haunting me
In Memory by Black Sabbath
Teaser
John could still feel the warmth of Dean’s breath blowing across his neck every few, albeit long, moments. There was still a chance. His son wasn’t dead yet.
With a scamper nearly worthy of a sprint, John shucked past tree after tree with Dean’s limp body cradled in his arms, continuously hoping that just beyond the next branch he’d find the Impala and get the transportation to the life-saving care Dean so desperately needed.
“It’s gotta be close,” John muttered to himself, hating the silence that served as Dean’s reply.
John renewed the pressure on the bloody stab wound in Dean’s chest and pressed his head against Dean’s, blood from a gash on his son’s forehead staining his own cheek. “You stay alive, you hear me. That’s an order!”
Dean didn’t stir.
John never felt more alone in his life than he did at that moment, not even the night when he had lost Mary and this whole detour into hell had started. If Sam’s departure had left a thick chasm of loss and misery in his soul, Dean’s death would crush him and he wouldn’t survive it. He’d have nothing left to lose and nothing remaining to live for.
A glint of metal caught his eye and John nearly dropped his bloodied, lifeless burden, he was that relieved. He sped up his step, acutely aware now of how much Dean weighed and how far he’d hefted him through the woods, as his body physically ached with the charge. Closer and closer the shine of the metal came, looking less and less like a mirage and more and more like salvation as relief flooded through his veins.
Then his heart dropped from out of his chest and landed at his feet. “No,” he gasped in a choked breath bordering on a sob.
The back tire was flat, which wouldn’t have been a problem as he’d got the spare, except for the fact that the front tire was flat too. So was the front one on the other side. And the back one too. She had done this. John knew it in his gut. Even in the end, that bitch was making sure she got her revenge. Making sure she got the last laugh.
John collapsed to the ground as his body gave out on him, taking Dean down with him. “I’m sorry,” John whispered, pulling Dean in a tight hug against him, his hand coming up to rub Dean’s hair and the back of his neck. John fought back tears as he drew Dean even tighter against him, tucking Dean’s head under his own, his chin resting on Dean’s hair as arms squeezed around his son like a vise, desperate to still feel the life that was slowly ebbing out of him.
“I’m so sorry.” John couldn’t control the tears that sprung out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, their final resting place in Dean’s bloody, matted hair.
TBC