Fic: Blood in the Water
Title: Blood in the Water
Author: brightly_lit
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300
Genre: gen, angst, alcoholism, 10.7 episode tag
Character: Dean
Warnings: heavy angst, alcoholism
Summary: Drunk Dean starts thinking about things he usually tries not to.
This is an early Christmas present for a_starfish, who made me this incredibly beautiful art for " In the Garden of Eden." (If you haven't already seen it, go look at it now now now!!)
I loved this sea-themed art of hers from the first moment I saw it, the whole metaphor of it, as well as the amazing scope of such a massive conceptual piece, so I wanted to write a fic to go with it. Hope you like it, dearie!
Dean's heartbreaking description of the end he imagines for himself to Cole in 10.7 helped this fic go where it did, as well, so I suppose it's also something of a 10.7 episode tag ...
Dean had been reading about mythical sea monsters for hours, which fit right in with the freakin’ shark wallpaper. Who slept well with Shark Week circling around and over you all night? Maybe these weird Mainers, who managed to come up with a sea theme for everything: baby strollers shaped to look like gaping shark mouths, car dealerships advertising a ‘whale of a deal!’ Playgrounds dotted with rocking seahorses and circling dolphins leaping around the merry-go-round. Burgers and fries listed under ‘catch o’ the day!’ at the local diner, served with chowder. Well, whatever. He liked fish sticks as much as the next guy, even if Sam was struggling to find something that hadn’t been deep-fried or doused in gravy, or both.
That must be where Sam was right now, which accounted for the glass of whiskey that had appeared on the table within minutes of Sam’s departure and somehow gotten refilled until the sharks in the wallpaper really were swimming, approaching and receding, circling, because they smelled blood in the water, didn’t they? Like all predators, they preyed on the weakest link, the easiest catch. Take him and Sam, for instance--Sam, eating right, keeping fit, working out, seldom drunk, never out of control. When you were the weakest link, you had to always keep on your toes, always keep up your wall, keep the veneer in place so no one could tell ....
... Except late at night when Sam was gone and the windows were salted and there was no one to see that you were drowning and had been all your life, forever putting out the flames of the fire that burned you up, hollowed you out, and left you standing like a blackened forest, until you finally fall.
~ The End ~
Author: brightly_lit
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300
Genre: gen, angst, alcoholism, 10.7 episode tag
Character: Dean
Warnings: heavy angst, alcoholism
Summary: Drunk Dean starts thinking about things he usually tries not to.
This is an early Christmas present for a_starfish, who made me this incredibly beautiful art for " In the Garden of Eden." (If you haven't already seen it, go look at it now now now!!)
I loved this sea-themed art of hers from the first moment I saw it, the whole metaphor of it, as well as the amazing scope of such a massive conceptual piece, so I wanted to write a fic to go with it. Hope you like it, dearie!
Dean's heartbreaking description of the end he imagines for himself to Cole in 10.7 helped this fic go where it did, as well, so I suppose it's also something of a 10.7 episode tag ...
Dean had been reading about mythical sea monsters for hours, which fit right in with the freakin’ shark wallpaper. Who slept well with Shark Week circling around and over you all night? Maybe these weird Mainers, who managed to come up with a sea theme for everything: baby strollers shaped to look like gaping shark mouths, car dealerships advertising a ‘whale of a deal!’ Playgrounds dotted with rocking seahorses and circling dolphins leaping around the merry-go-round. Burgers and fries listed under ‘catch o’ the day!’ at the local diner, served with chowder. Well, whatever. He liked fish sticks as much as the next guy, even if Sam was struggling to find something that hadn’t been deep-fried or doused in gravy, or both.
That must be where Sam was right now, which accounted for the glass of whiskey that had appeared on the table within minutes of Sam’s departure and somehow gotten refilled until the sharks in the wallpaper really were swimming, approaching and receding, circling, because they smelled blood in the water, didn’t they? Like all predators, they preyed on the weakest link, the easiest catch. Take him and Sam, for instance--Sam, eating right, keeping fit, working out, seldom drunk, never out of control. When you were the weakest link, you had to always keep on your toes, always keep up your wall, keep the veneer in place so no one could tell ....
... Except late at night when Sam was gone and the windows were salted and there was no one to see that you were drowning and had been all your life, forever putting out the flames of the fire that burned you up, hollowed you out, and left you standing like a blackened forest, until you finally fall.
~ The End ~