(no subject)
I'm just a few dozen pieces of a former lazy ass hippie, scattered around the remnants of a flooded town post-Supernatural finale...so, I, like, wrote a comment fic. It's either that or listen to Carry On My Wayward Son 50 times on repeat while drinking whisky and drunk dialing all the wrong people. I think this might be the better choice. Maybe not the more worthwhile from a memoir standpoint, but, like, less likely to result in me begging forgiveness in the morning, y'know.
Stupid damn sci fi show that makes me care like only The X Files & Doctor Who ever has before. Stupid. Show. Dammit.
Sam wasn't sure as he walked towards the door. It wasn't his place anymore. It wasn't just as if he'd fallen through hell and back, he'd fallen through his entire life and he knew what Dean had sacrificed for him. Really KNEW it. The way you know that the bacon is done just right on a breakfast platter or that the bartender had made your drink just a little stronger than he was supposed to. It's one of those things you aren't supposed to know, but suddenly you do and no one can change that.
Sam knew it wasn't his place anymore, but he didn't care. He'd seen the other side. He had fought off Lucifer to get back to his brother and he would be damned (bad choice of words, Sammy, really bad)...he wasn't going to walk away that easily.
He walked to the door, lifted his hand and contemplated whether he was really willing to take that normalcy away from his brother. Look at what it'd done to him. Look at what had happened when he'd listened to Dean. He had given up everything about himself he liked, and let his destiny rule his fate. He'd stopped fighting and he'd lost. Could he let Dean do the same thing he had?
He clenched his fist and fought the urge to knock. From the other side of the door, he heard Dean laugh and he knew he had no choice. His fist pounded against the door, his eyes fixed on the space where he knew his brother's eyes would be.
Stupid damn sci fi show that makes me care like only The X Files & Doctor Who ever has before. Stupid. Show. Dammit.
Sam wasn't sure as he walked towards the door. It wasn't his place anymore. It wasn't just as if he'd fallen through hell and back, he'd fallen through his entire life and he knew what Dean had sacrificed for him. Really KNEW it. The way you know that the bacon is done just right on a breakfast platter or that the bartender had made your drink just a little stronger than he was supposed to. It's one of those things you aren't supposed to know, but suddenly you do and no one can change that.
Sam knew it wasn't his place anymore, but he didn't care. He'd seen the other side. He had fought off Lucifer to get back to his brother and he would be damned (bad choice of words, Sammy, really bad)...he wasn't going to walk away that easily.
He walked to the door, lifted his hand and contemplated whether he was really willing to take that normalcy away from his brother. Look at what it'd done to him. Look at what had happened when he'd listened to Dean. He had given up everything about himself he liked, and let his destiny rule his fate. He'd stopped fighting and he'd lost. Could he let Dean do the same thing he had?
He clenched his fist and fought the urge to knock. From the other side of the door, he heard Dean laugh and he knew he had no choice. His fist pounded against the door, his eyes fixed on the space where he knew his brother's eyes would be.