Title:The Price of Obedience
Rating: PG-13 (Just cause you never know what'll upset people)
Spoilers: Dark Side of the Moon, 5x16
Summary: Coda to Dark Side of the Moon. There is, in fact, something Dean wants for himself. This is h/c, technically... but not the way most of the other post-5.16 fics went
Disclaimer:Kripke owns it all, including my soul, and at this point, I'd like it back.
A/N: This story wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it. The prose is written in a very symbolism-oriented style, which is very unusual for me, but I think if you give it a chance, you'll like it. At least I hope so.
He paused before he let his fingers open, a silent benediction. The amulet hit the bottom of the can with a sound like a slamming door. The decision was made.
He dropped the keys through the Impala’s open window, a death toll jingle as they hit the seat. He turned, dug into his pocket for change, looked up as the city bus arrived with a hiss. He rode until he didn’t know what side of town he was on, got off when he spotted an empty field. He didn’t have to scream himself hoarse. A beautiful, cherub cheeked girl no taller than his knee, leaking light through her eyes as she fought to contain the right hand of God, waited silently in the grass.
“Dean.”
Hollow, dead emeralds reflected glowing sapphires for a dozen heartbeats.
“Say it. One word, nice and easy.”
His soul makes silent subconscious pleas for strength, an involuntary mantra. He used to pray nightly, Holy Omnipotent Father, merciful and just, John Winchester. His god has deserted him, but he makes one last prayer for forgiveness nonetheless.
“I need you to do something for me, first.”
The Archangel has learned better than to argue. He has climbed mountains of this man’s stubbornness, swam oceans of his righteousness to arrive here. “Yes, of course. I’ll leave you sane. I’ll put Sam back together. I said all this already. You get to live happily ever-”
“No.” A throat full of dust grinds out the single syllable.
“What else, then? Get it all out now, this negotiation only happens once.” Irritation turns cherubic sweetness sour.
“Don’t make me say it,” is a whisper lost to the wind.
Another dozen heartbeats, the world revolves without them, silent sentinels negotiating the fate of everything.
Glowing sapphires widen in surprise, tiny curls slide forward as her head tilts to the side. “This is what you want?”
“Can you do it? Can you bring him back?” Eyes, dark for so long, spark hope somewhere in their depths.
“Of course. You’re certain this is your price?”
Guilt and hope battle through green eyes. Thoughts float unfettered, acknowledged, yet unstated.
Understanding dawns in cerulean orbs.
“A simpler time. When you had only to give devotion to receive love. Of course I will give you this. I, above any, understand the need.” Compassion steals across cherubic lips, a sad smile.
“Swear it.”
“I swear. Say yes, and he is yours.”
Another dozen heartbeats, the world slows to listen. The fate of the world is breathed through clenched lips, tight with fear, hope, and resignation.
“Yes.”
Sapphires leak light, bleed into emeralds. Light encompasses the world and he is pushed aside within himself. He cowers in the darkest recess of his mind, pushes away from the light until the promise is kept and he is falling.
Solid earth beneath him, warm and familiar. He stands, not daring hope. A footstep from behind, thunderous with implications. He turns, wrapped suddenly in loving arms. Tears fall from emeralds as he is held fast. A second chance.
“I missed you, Dean.”
A father’s smile, full of pride. A father’s eyes, full of approval. A father’s expectations, steady and readily rewarded.
Emeralds glisten, reflected in polished steel, a razor to carve a new future.
“I missed you, Alastair.”