SN drabbles: 3.5-3.8
masterlist
previously
rampage freedom there
He says to let him go, like it’s easy. Good advice, what the doctor did. Letting go. Stop searching, stop fighting, stop hoping.
If it’s such good advice, why the hell didn’t Dean let him stay dead? Why did Dean make that deal, if letting go is the right thing to do?
Because he’s Dean, that’s why. And because it was Sam who’d died. Because Dean isn’t as important as Sam.
Sam watches Dean walk away and decides, fuck that. Sam’s not letting go; not now, not ever.
If Dean can hold on until his fingers fall off or the world burns, Sam won’t do any less.
Oh, to be so young again
She hasn’t danced with a man since her husband passed, and he was nowhere near attractive as this boy. Gert knows she’s being ridiculous, but she turned seventy a few months ago, so she’s running out of time.
She’s earned a little fun, after all, and teasing this boy? Most fun she’s had since before the kids were born.
He’s broad and tall; pressed up against him on the dance floor, she can feel how strong he is. He’s polite, too; most young folk she’s known would have left by now. Someone raised this boy right, to respect his elders.
Until he pushes her away, she’ll press her luck, so she lays her head on his chest and pretends she’s twenty-five again.
should have stayed a great unknown
“Gordon Walker,” he says and her heart skips a beat. She’s heard of him, about his madness and obsession-about how dangerous he is.
She looks in his eyes and sees only conviction for his cause. From what she knows, he doesn’t kill innocents. Just those he thinks are monsters. Which is she?
“Sam Winchester is the Anti-Christ,” he tells her, surety in every nuance of his voice. She stares at him, at a complete loss for words.
Honestly, did they meet the same Sam Winchester?
That moment, realizing that Gordon Walker is totally mad, is when she’s sure he’ll kill her. She worked with the “Anti-Christ,” after all.
“Tell me where they are,” he says, “Or I shoot you.”
She looks him in the eye and realizes he will. But she’s faced down scarier things than him and she does not get intimidated. So she offers him a deal that he hasn’t the patience to refuse.
the death of childhood
His last Christmas. Damn, he’ll be gone soon, burning in the Pit. Leaving Sam alone. Leaving Sam behind.
He just wants to spend the holiday with his little brother, like they haven’t since before Stanford.
But Sam doesn’t want to, can’t even give him that. Dean doesn’t let on how much the refusal hurts him, because at least Sam’s alive to tell him no.
onwards
previously
rampage freedom there
He says to let him go, like it’s easy. Good advice, what the doctor did. Letting go. Stop searching, stop fighting, stop hoping.
If it’s such good advice, why the hell didn’t Dean let him stay dead? Why did Dean make that deal, if letting go is the right thing to do?
Because he’s Dean, that’s why. And because it was Sam who’d died. Because Dean isn’t as important as Sam.
Sam watches Dean walk away and decides, fuck that. Sam’s not letting go; not now, not ever.
If Dean can hold on until his fingers fall off or the world burns, Sam won’t do any less.
Oh, to be so young again
She hasn’t danced with a man since her husband passed, and he was nowhere near attractive as this boy. Gert knows she’s being ridiculous, but she turned seventy a few months ago, so she’s running out of time.
She’s earned a little fun, after all, and teasing this boy? Most fun she’s had since before the kids were born.
He’s broad and tall; pressed up against him on the dance floor, she can feel how strong he is. He’s polite, too; most young folk she’s known would have left by now. Someone raised this boy right, to respect his elders.
Until he pushes her away, she’ll press her luck, so she lays her head on his chest and pretends she’s twenty-five again.
should have stayed a great unknown
“Gordon Walker,” he says and her heart skips a beat. She’s heard of him, about his madness and obsession-about how dangerous he is.
She looks in his eyes and sees only conviction for his cause. From what she knows, he doesn’t kill innocents. Just those he thinks are monsters. Which is she?
“Sam Winchester is the Anti-Christ,” he tells her, surety in every nuance of his voice. She stares at him, at a complete loss for words.
Honestly, did they meet the same Sam Winchester?
That moment, realizing that Gordon Walker is totally mad, is when she’s sure he’ll kill her. She worked with the “Anti-Christ,” after all.
“Tell me where they are,” he says, “Or I shoot you.”
She looks him in the eye and realizes he will. But she’s faced down scarier things than him and she does not get intimidated. So she offers him a deal that he hasn’t the patience to refuse.
the death of childhood
His last Christmas. Damn, he’ll be gone soon, burning in the Pit. Leaving Sam alone. Leaving Sam behind.
He just wants to spend the holiday with his little brother, like they haven’t since before Stanford.
But Sam doesn’t want to, can’t even give him that. Dean doesn’t let on how much the refusal hurts him, because at least Sam’s alive to tell him no.
onwards