Challenge 6 - Tape Deck
Title: "Leave Out All The Rest"
Author: Tahirire
Pairing/Character: Sam
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, genius. And to the CW, a bunch of morons.
Prompt: tape deck
Rating: Angsty
Warnings/Spoilers: Post Season3 finale
Author Notes: Linkin Park has been in my head of late.
The Impala's growl was a steady cadence, thrumming down the long twisting highway. The growl went unnacompanied. The radio was dark.
Sam reached for the volume on his Iphone, cranking the headphones to drown out the engine noise. He had to drive her, but he couldn't stand to immerse himself in her, not yet.
Linkin Park echoed across the speakers. Sam blinked. He'd forgotten downloading this. Minutes to Midnight, he realized. He remembered the chiming of the grandfather clock. His heart plummeted. Dean. The starting words went through Sam, penetrating into his soul. He gasped at the pain they brought. It was like he could hear his brother's voice.
I dreamed I was missing, you were so scared. But no one would listen, 'cause no one else cared. After my dreaming, I woke with this fear, what am I leaving, when I'm done here.
Tears clouded his vision. 'You were wrong, Dean. Other people do care.' He slammed his fist into the steering wheel, not wanting to hear anymore, but somehow frozen in the words. 'What am I supposed to do? Dean. You bastard.' Sam whispered, feeling all the guilt slam into him full force. 'How am I supposed to live with this?'
So if you're asking me I want you to know ...
Sam held his breath.
When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done, help me leave behind some reason to be missed, don't resent me, when you're feeling empty, keep me in your memories, leave out all the rest. Leave out all the rest.
Drained, unable to hear any more, Sam pulled the Impala over to the curb, silencing the growl, leaving him alone with his emptiness. He pitched the headphones across the bench seat, wincing when there wasn't anyone solid there to keep them from hitting the window.
'No,' he sobbed, gasping for breath as his grief overwhelmed him. 'No. No, Dean. I can't. I'm sorry, I know this wasn't what you wanted, I know you want me to be happy. I know you wanted it to end with you, I know that.'
Sam's breathing slowed as he regained some of his calm, outburst fading in his new resolve. 'I don't,' he breathed. 'I don't resent you.' He was surprised to find that he actually meant the words. 'But I can't just leave the rest. I can't.'
Wearily, and older than he'd felt in a long time, Sam put the keys back into the ignition.
'I'm coming for you, man. Just hold on.'
And the Impala came back to life, and the growl started up again, but the radio was still dark, like the glistening metal, like Sam's heart.
And there would be no more music. Not until Dean was back.
Author: Tahirire
Pairing/Character: Sam
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke, genius. And to the CW, a bunch of morons.
Prompt: tape deck
Rating: Angsty
Warnings/Spoilers: Post Season3 finale
Author Notes: Linkin Park has been in my head of late.
The Impala's growl was a steady cadence, thrumming down the long twisting highway. The growl went unnacompanied. The radio was dark.
Sam reached for the volume on his Iphone, cranking the headphones to drown out the engine noise. He had to drive her, but he couldn't stand to immerse himself in her, not yet.
Linkin Park echoed across the speakers. Sam blinked. He'd forgotten downloading this. Minutes to Midnight, he realized. He remembered the chiming of the grandfather clock. His heart plummeted. Dean. The starting words went through Sam, penetrating into his soul. He gasped at the pain they brought. It was like he could hear his brother's voice.
I dreamed I was missing, you were so scared. But no one would listen, 'cause no one else cared. After my dreaming, I woke with this fear, what am I leaving, when I'm done here.
Tears clouded his vision. 'You were wrong, Dean. Other people do care.' He slammed his fist into the steering wheel, not wanting to hear anymore, but somehow frozen in the words. 'What am I supposed to do? Dean. You bastard.' Sam whispered, feeling all the guilt slam into him full force. 'How am I supposed to live with this?'
So if you're asking me I want you to know ...
Sam held his breath.
When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done, help me leave behind some reason to be missed, don't resent me, when you're feeling empty, keep me in your memories, leave out all the rest. Leave out all the rest.
Drained, unable to hear any more, Sam pulled the Impala over to the curb, silencing the growl, leaving him alone with his emptiness. He pitched the headphones across the bench seat, wincing when there wasn't anyone solid there to keep them from hitting the window.
'No,' he sobbed, gasping for breath as his grief overwhelmed him. 'No. No, Dean. I can't. I'm sorry, I know this wasn't what you wanted, I know you want me to be happy. I know you wanted it to end with you, I know that.'
Sam's breathing slowed as he regained some of his calm, outburst fading in his new resolve. 'I don't,' he breathed. 'I don't resent you.' He was surprised to find that he actually meant the words. 'But I can't just leave the rest. I can't.'
Wearily, and older than he'd felt in a long time, Sam put the keys back into the ignition.
'I'm coming for you, man. Just hold on.'
And the Impala came back to life, and the growl started up again, but the radio was still dark, like the glistening metal, like Sam's heart.
And there would be no more music. Not until Dean was back.