(no subject)
Every time I try to write something using one of the 8secondsfic prompts, lately, it turns into ...something else! Something which has nothing to do with eight seconds at all! I am really not sure what's up with that.
Title: None, still can't title things. Ever.
Rating: Meh, G, nothing scary here.
Current-timeline, vague Dean-stuff...
He never noticed just how easily he could slip into the background until he tried, until he needed to, needed to disappear for a moment. He was always the one in the spotlight, the one radiating it maybe, grabbing the brilliance and pulling it to him, shining it out, all smiles and wit, affection and charm and protector, warrior. Then he slipped, and he fell into the background, still protector, still warrior, still smiles and charm and everything else, just not in the light anymore, standing in his brother’s shadow.
The light still touches him, and he can give the illusion that it’s his, that he’s the one in the spotlight again, but he’s not, and he knows it, even though probably no one else realizes because he’s good at making do with what fragments of the light touch, but it’s not his light, maybe it never was his to begin with.
And when the light fades when he’s alone, he’s sure it’s not his, never was his. Then he’s not alone anymore, and the light comes back, and reaffirms his belief that without his brother, there isn’t light, there isn’t anything, because his brother is the light.
And then he falls into darkness, so deep it burns, and the light left behind disappears, and he doesn’t understand, because it wasn’t his light, it was never his light, it should still be shining without him there. Instead it’s shadows and gloom and precision, chill like storm clouds, cutting away the warmth his brother always held, and he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t see much, can’t see much, too busy with the darkness and demons and the burning, but he knows enough to know the light is gone.
And he’s back, he came out of the darkness, pulled out by Heaven, and the light’s still gone, and they’re conflicting, torn apart by angels and demons and their own humanity, not syncing like they should, and maybe that’s why the light’s gone, because maybe it’s not his light, or his brother’s light, but maybe it’s their light, always been their light.
But it's dimmed now, almost gone, barely a glimmer, not enough to cut the chill out of his blood, the ice out of his brother's eyes.
All he wants is that light back.
-
You guys. Seriously. Help?
Title: None, still can't title things. Ever.
Rating: Meh, G, nothing scary here.
Current-timeline, vague Dean-stuff...
He never noticed just how easily he could slip into the background until he tried, until he needed to, needed to disappear for a moment. He was always the one in the spotlight, the one radiating it maybe, grabbing the brilliance and pulling it to him, shining it out, all smiles and wit, affection and charm and protector, warrior. Then he slipped, and he fell into the background, still protector, still warrior, still smiles and charm and everything else, just not in the light anymore, standing in his brother’s shadow.
The light still touches him, and he can give the illusion that it’s his, that he’s the one in the spotlight again, but he’s not, and he knows it, even though probably no one else realizes because he’s good at making do with what fragments of the light touch, but it’s not his light, maybe it never was his to begin with.
And when the light fades when he’s alone, he’s sure it’s not his, never was his. Then he’s not alone anymore, and the light comes back, and reaffirms his belief that without his brother, there isn’t light, there isn’t anything, because his brother is the light.
And then he falls into darkness, so deep it burns, and the light left behind disappears, and he doesn’t understand, because it wasn’t his light, it was never his light, it should still be shining without him there. Instead it’s shadows and gloom and precision, chill like storm clouds, cutting away the warmth his brother always held, and he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t see much, can’t see much, too busy with the darkness and demons and the burning, but he knows enough to know the light is gone.
And he’s back, he came out of the darkness, pulled out by Heaven, and the light’s still gone, and they’re conflicting, torn apart by angels and demons and their own humanity, not syncing like they should, and maybe that’s why the light’s gone, because maybe it’s not his light, or his brother’s light, but maybe it’s their light, always been their light.
But it's dimmed now, almost gone, barely a glimmer, not enough to cut the chill out of his blood, the ice out of his brother's eyes.
All he wants is that light back.
-
You guys. Seriously. Help?