Supernatural fic: Every Breath You Take
Title: Every Breath You Take (The Police)
Author: Shealynn
Characters: Sam, John, Other, implied Dean (no pairings)
Rating: PG-13/R for dark themes
Warnings: angst and darkness
Author's Note: Written for maygra's Songs of 1983 ficathon
Huge thanks to cadi_b who took time out of a VERY busy holiday schedule to help make this more readable. All mistakes are mine alone.
It had been listening every moment-year in, year out-for over 22 years. Every breath; every white lie; every hard truth. For almost three decades it had been feeding on the boy's sobs and desperate shouts of anger like ambrosia.
It heard everything, and it smiled, noting with pride what a beautiful boy it's little project had turned into. It marveled at the wonderful, tormented soul it had sculpted from the ready clay of an impressionable infant. And the beauty of it was that the boy it had molded had become a part of the boy it had ignored. The thing knew, with a certainty that warmed it on quiet nights, that when one of those boys died, the other would be damaged beyond repair. That was poetry above what it had expected or planned for-a bonus for bad behavior.
The time was near, now, and the gears and cogs were slowly turning in the machine of fate. The pain of the past would soon destroy those desperate, tortured souls, and the score would be: Darkness-2, Winchesters-0.
***
Sam had always felt like something was out there. An itch at the back of his neck, a heaviness behind him that he couldn't quite convince himself was just the absence of light. He'd gotten used to it, more or less, over time. It had never changed or gone away, and that alone had practically made it a part of him.
But right before Jess died, it had changed. That itch had become a malicious burn, threatening him with dreams of fire and guilt and the grounding pain of real wounds. And he still didn't know what it was, and he still couldn't talk about it, because to put it into words might make it into paranoia, or worse, reality. So, Sam was silent, even though Dean kept asking, because he didn't want to make it trivial, or real, before he understood what it really was, and what it wanted.
***
John Winchester hated that his sons were far away. He hated that he couldn't watch them anymore or reassure himself with their quiet breathing late at night. But protecting them was more important than being with them, and he just hoped he wouldn't be too late. Again.
He hated the thought that he wouldn't know if one of his sons suddenly stopped breathing: hated that he might never know that it had happened at all, because the other would almost certainly be too broken to tell him.
If one of them fell, the entire Winchester line would be broken, because John couldn't keep going, knowing that he'd failed to honor the sacrifice his wife had made so long ago. So he searched endlessly for the truth, so that he could stop those grinding wheels of evil before they took the only things left that he valued. Because life wasn't worth living if his sons weren't out there, somewhere, to enjoy it.
And that was why he had to go after this thing now.
He knew it was close, whatever it was. He could feel it in the restless ache of every monstrous scar, in the way that the demons stared at him knowingly and grinned, even as he sent them back to the hells they came from. He knew it was close, and he knew that only another sacrifice could stop it. And he took a grim satisfaction in knowing that, this time, he would call the shots and make the choice.
Every Breath You Take
The Police
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I’ll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I’ll be watching you
Oh, can’t you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I’ll be watching you
Since you’ve gone I been lost without a trace
I dream at night I can only see your face
I look around but it’s you I can’t replace
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace
I keep crying baby, baby, please...
Oh, can’t you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches
With every breath you take
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I’ll be watching you
Every move you make
Every step you take
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
Author: Shealynn
Characters: Sam, John, Other, implied Dean (no pairings)
Rating: PG-13/R for dark themes
Warnings: angst and darkness
Author's Note: Written for maygra's Songs of 1983 ficathon
Huge thanks to cadi_b who took time out of a VERY busy holiday schedule to help make this more readable. All mistakes are mine alone.
It had been listening every moment-year in, year out-for over 22 years. Every breath; every white lie; every hard truth. For almost three decades it had been feeding on the boy's sobs and desperate shouts of anger like ambrosia.
It heard everything, and it smiled, noting with pride what a beautiful boy it's little project had turned into. It marveled at the wonderful, tormented soul it had sculpted from the ready clay of an impressionable infant. And the beauty of it was that the boy it had molded had become a part of the boy it had ignored. The thing knew, with a certainty that warmed it on quiet nights, that when one of those boys died, the other would be damaged beyond repair. That was poetry above what it had expected or planned for-a bonus for bad behavior.
The time was near, now, and the gears and cogs were slowly turning in the machine of fate. The pain of the past would soon destroy those desperate, tortured souls, and the score would be: Darkness-2, Winchesters-0.
***
Sam had always felt like something was out there. An itch at the back of his neck, a heaviness behind him that he couldn't quite convince himself was just the absence of light. He'd gotten used to it, more or less, over time. It had never changed or gone away, and that alone had practically made it a part of him.
But right before Jess died, it had changed. That itch had become a malicious burn, threatening him with dreams of fire and guilt and the grounding pain of real wounds. And he still didn't know what it was, and he still couldn't talk about it, because to put it into words might make it into paranoia, or worse, reality. So, Sam was silent, even though Dean kept asking, because he didn't want to make it trivial, or real, before he understood what it really was, and what it wanted.
***
John Winchester hated that his sons were far away. He hated that he couldn't watch them anymore or reassure himself with their quiet breathing late at night. But protecting them was more important than being with them, and he just hoped he wouldn't be too late. Again.
He hated the thought that he wouldn't know if one of his sons suddenly stopped breathing: hated that he might never know that it had happened at all, because the other would almost certainly be too broken to tell him.
If one of them fell, the entire Winchester line would be broken, because John couldn't keep going, knowing that he'd failed to honor the sacrifice his wife had made so long ago. So he searched endlessly for the truth, so that he could stop those grinding wheels of evil before they took the only things left that he valued. Because life wasn't worth living if his sons weren't out there, somewhere, to enjoy it.
And that was why he had to go after this thing now.
He knew it was close, whatever it was. He could feel it in the restless ache of every monstrous scar, in the way that the demons stared at him knowingly and grinned, even as he sent them back to the hells they came from. He knew it was close, and he knew that only another sacrifice could stop it. And he took a grim satisfaction in knowing that, this time, he would call the shots and make the choice.
Every Breath You Take
The Police
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every bond you break
Every step you take
I’ll be watching you
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I’ll be watching you
Oh, can’t you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I’ll be watching you
Since you’ve gone I been lost without a trace
I dream at night I can only see your face
I look around but it’s you I can’t replace
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace
I keep crying baby, baby, please...
Oh, can’t you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches
With every breath you take
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every smile you fake
Every claim you stake
I’ll be watching you
Every move you make
Every step you take
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you
I’ll be watching you