Fic: Remission and Relapse (10.14 Episode coda)
Another Hellatus! Ahhhhh!
Now that I've got that out of the way, I thought this episode was pretty solid.
[Spoiler (click to open)]Timothy Odmundson's performance as Cain was outstanding. He was frightening in a very other-worldly kind of way, and he looked good while doing it. :) I enjoyed Cas and Crowley and Rowena, because this week their stories were a part of Sam and Dean's story. Jared and Jensen knocked it out of the park, although I could've done with a little more of Sam. The scene where Dean admitted that he was scared, was it just me, or did that feel as if it had been cut? I felt like there should've been something more.
Anyway, I've tried something a little different this week. Just some snippets that I wanted to explore more. The POV changes part way through.
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Title: Remission and Relapse
Author: zara_zee
Beta: Not beta’d
Genre(s): Episode coda
Rating: PG-13, Gen
Spoilers: Episode 10.14
Word Count: ~1,100
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sand box.
Summary: You don’t believe there’s a cure; you never have. And now, in the face of Cain’s spectacular relapse, how can you truly believe that you, with all your weaknesses and failings, will be able to do better?
--
9.33pm
If this works, and we capture Cain, then what?
Sam doesn’t really think that Dean will answer, and he doesn’t. Both of them know the answer anyway. Dean and Cain will fight. One of them will lose.
If Dean loses, then Cain, blade in hand, will probably kill them all. If Cain loses, they may have to kill Dean.
So no, Sam isn’t surprised when Dean dodges the question.
You know last week when I said I’d go down swinging when the time came?
I meant that I was at peace with that.
I just didn’t realize the time would come so soon.
You know, like right now.
Dean’s voice almost breaks and for a brief moment he looks young and vulnerable. The mask is off and the frightened four-year-old who watched his mother burn is staring straight at him.
I’m scared Sam.
Sam waits a beat, to see if Dean will say any more, but he just turns his head, his jaw clenching in that way that means he’s trying really hard not to cry. Sam knows all his brother’s tells, can read him like a book. He knows Dean doesn’t want to die, but he also knows that what really frightens Dean about this whole scenario is the probability that he’ll come out of it a monster.
I can’t go down that road again. I can’t be that thing again.
If Cain kills Dean, he won’t die, not truly. The mark will just turn him into a Knight of Hell again. If Dean kills Cain, the siren song of the Blade and the mark combined may prove too strong; Dean may simply pick up where Cain left off, slaking the blade’s blood lust however he can and losing himself in the process.
He’s already struggling, even without the Blade in his hand.
Sam runs through a number of possible responses to Dean’s admission, but really, what can he say that will make any difference?
So Sam simply hugs his brother. He holds him close and ignores the tears that drip from Dean’s chin onto Sam’s hand; holds him close until the fine tremors stop and Dean wipes at his face with the heel of his palm.
“I love you,” Sam says, before his brother can pull away. “And I believe in you. I’m not gonna lose you, man. You’re not gonna lose yourself.”
By the time they join the others, Dean’s eyes are no longer red and watery.
11.48pm
Sam watches as Dean takes the Blade from Crowley. It almost seems to lock into place in his hand. He trembles slightly and brings the Blade up in front of himself.
“Dean?" Sam says.
His brother looks up, his voice full of wonder. “I’m good,” he says, but there’s something in his eyes that Sam doesn’t quite trust.
When Dean heads up the stairs, there’s more of a spring in his step than there has been for a while and Sam isn’t quite sure what to make of the little smile Dean gives him when he’s half way to the top.
Sam hears the door open. He hears it close. There’s hope in his heart and fear in his bones. He waits.
11.58pm
You’ve just killed the Father of Murder. He’s lying dead at your feet and the circle of blood surrounding his partially-severed head is widening rapidly. You back away slowly, because you’ve got enough of his blood on your hands, you don’t need it on your feet too. A frisson of fear spikes as you reach the edge of the Devil’s Trap, but you’re not a demon and it lets you pass. Yet, whispers softly in your mind and you nod because it’s only a matter of time.
You look at your hands, crimson and dripping. Cain’s blood is on them, both literally and metaphorically, and the sudden grief sends you to your knees.
He was your last hope. Your shining example of living with the mark; of managing the condition.
You don’t believe there’s a cure; you never have. And now, in the face of Cain’s spectacular relapse, how can you truly believe that you, with all your weaknesses and failings, will be able to do better?
Sammy’s faith will have to be enough for both of you.
Unless you kill him.
The thought; the possibility; brings on a panic attack and you curl into a ball and stare at Cain’s dead blue eyes through the haze of your tears.
The pool of blood creeps closer.
The mark throbs and burns. The Blade thirsts.
You’re not going to lie, most of your grief is for the loss of yourself, but a little is for Cain, another father figure untimely ripped from you. The Father of Murder, maybe, but still a father.
When you stagger, heavy and exhausted back down the stairs, you’re not sure how much time has passed, but it must not have been too long, because they’re all still there, waiting to deal with whatever comes out.
Dean? The Blade.
Crowley puts his hand out for it and the temptation to stick it into his gut is huge.
You resist and offer it handle first, before swivelling and giving it to Cas instead.
Crowley is angry, but he's lingering, and you need him to go. After all those weeks on the road together you know just how to wound him, so you let him know the full extent of your lies and betrayal.
Crowley vanishes and you fall into Sammy’s arms.
2.13pm
Everything sounds too loud. Your slurp of coffee. Sam pouring his. The noise the carafe makes when Sam sets it down.
Sam is relentlessly upbeat.
What you did back there, it was incredible. If you can do that without losing yourself, that’s cause for hope, even without a cure.
You try to have his faith, but the best you can manage is a half-hearted maybe.
Cas has hidden your Blade somewhere safe, and he knows better than to tell you where. You tell him that’s good. And it is good. Because you’re jonesing for it already.
It’s been a long couple of days and you’re exhausted, but that’s not why you excuse yourself. You just need to be alone. Away from the hope and the expectations and the misplaced faith. You pat Cas on the back as you pass him and his grace makes something dark inside you writhe and squirm.
You know for sure now that the mark is an incurable disease. There is no resiting it, no resisting the Blade. Not long term. There is only remission and relapse.
You’ve already slipped once. And you never really thought you were strong enough to beat this thing for good. You stare at your face, fractured by the cracks in the mirror.
You’ve been in remission ever since Sammy cured your black eyes. You know what comes next.
--
Now that I've got that out of the way, I thought this episode was pretty solid.
[Spoiler (click to open)]Timothy Odmundson's performance as Cain was outstanding. He was frightening in a very other-worldly kind of way, and he looked good while doing it. :) I enjoyed Cas and Crowley and Rowena, because this week their stories were a part of Sam and Dean's story. Jared and Jensen knocked it out of the park, although I could've done with a little more of Sam. The scene where Dean admitted that he was scared, was it just me, or did that feel as if it had been cut? I felt like there should've been something more.
Anyway, I've tried something a little different this week. Just some snippets that I wanted to explore more. The POV changes part way through.
--
Title: Remission and Relapse
Author: zara_zee
Beta: Not beta’d
Genre(s): Episode coda
Rating: PG-13, Gen
Spoilers: Episode 10.14
Word Count: ~1,100
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sand box.
Summary: You don’t believe there’s a cure; you never have. And now, in the face of Cain’s spectacular relapse, how can you truly believe that you, with all your weaknesses and failings, will be able to do better?
--
9.33pm
If this works, and we capture Cain, then what?
Sam doesn’t really think that Dean will answer, and he doesn’t. Both of them know the answer anyway. Dean and Cain will fight. One of them will lose.
If Dean loses, then Cain, blade in hand, will probably kill them all. If Cain loses, they may have to kill Dean.
So no, Sam isn’t surprised when Dean dodges the question.
You know last week when I said I’d go down swinging when the time came?
I meant that I was at peace with that.
I just didn’t realize the time would come so soon.
You know, like right now.
Dean’s voice almost breaks and for a brief moment he looks young and vulnerable. The mask is off and the frightened four-year-old who watched his mother burn is staring straight at him.
I’m scared Sam.
Sam waits a beat, to see if Dean will say any more, but he just turns his head, his jaw clenching in that way that means he’s trying really hard not to cry. Sam knows all his brother’s tells, can read him like a book. He knows Dean doesn’t want to die, but he also knows that what really frightens Dean about this whole scenario is the probability that he’ll come out of it a monster.
I can’t go down that road again. I can’t be that thing again.
If Cain kills Dean, he won’t die, not truly. The mark will just turn him into a Knight of Hell again. If Dean kills Cain, the siren song of the Blade and the mark combined may prove too strong; Dean may simply pick up where Cain left off, slaking the blade’s blood lust however he can and losing himself in the process.
He’s already struggling, even without the Blade in his hand.
Sam runs through a number of possible responses to Dean’s admission, but really, what can he say that will make any difference?
So Sam simply hugs his brother. He holds him close and ignores the tears that drip from Dean’s chin onto Sam’s hand; holds him close until the fine tremors stop and Dean wipes at his face with the heel of his palm.
“I love you,” Sam says, before his brother can pull away. “And I believe in you. I’m not gonna lose you, man. You’re not gonna lose yourself.”
By the time they join the others, Dean’s eyes are no longer red and watery.
11.48pm
Sam watches as Dean takes the Blade from Crowley. It almost seems to lock into place in his hand. He trembles slightly and brings the Blade up in front of himself.
“Dean?" Sam says.
His brother looks up, his voice full of wonder. “I’m good,” he says, but there’s something in his eyes that Sam doesn’t quite trust.
When Dean heads up the stairs, there’s more of a spring in his step than there has been for a while and Sam isn’t quite sure what to make of the little smile Dean gives him when he’s half way to the top.
Sam hears the door open. He hears it close. There’s hope in his heart and fear in his bones. He waits.
11.58pm
You’ve just killed the Father of Murder. He’s lying dead at your feet and the circle of blood surrounding his partially-severed head is widening rapidly. You back away slowly, because you’ve got enough of his blood on your hands, you don’t need it on your feet too. A frisson of fear spikes as you reach the edge of the Devil’s Trap, but you’re not a demon and it lets you pass. Yet, whispers softly in your mind and you nod because it’s only a matter of time.
You look at your hands, crimson and dripping. Cain’s blood is on them, both literally and metaphorically, and the sudden grief sends you to your knees.
He was your last hope. Your shining example of living with the mark; of managing the condition.
You don’t believe there’s a cure; you never have. And now, in the face of Cain’s spectacular relapse, how can you truly believe that you, with all your weaknesses and failings, will be able to do better?
Sammy’s faith will have to be enough for both of you.
Unless you kill him.
The thought; the possibility; brings on a panic attack and you curl into a ball and stare at Cain’s dead blue eyes through the haze of your tears.
The pool of blood creeps closer.
The mark throbs and burns. The Blade thirsts.
You’re not going to lie, most of your grief is for the loss of yourself, but a little is for Cain, another father figure untimely ripped from you. The Father of Murder, maybe, but still a father.
When you stagger, heavy and exhausted back down the stairs, you’re not sure how much time has passed, but it must not have been too long, because they’re all still there, waiting to deal with whatever comes out.
Dean? The Blade.
Crowley puts his hand out for it and the temptation to stick it into his gut is huge.
You resist and offer it handle first, before swivelling and giving it to Cas instead.
Crowley is angry, but he's lingering, and you need him to go. After all those weeks on the road together you know just how to wound him, so you let him know the full extent of your lies and betrayal.
Crowley vanishes and you fall into Sammy’s arms.
2.13pm
Everything sounds too loud. Your slurp of coffee. Sam pouring his. The noise the carafe makes when Sam sets it down.
Sam is relentlessly upbeat.
What you did back there, it was incredible. If you can do that without losing yourself, that’s cause for hope, even without a cure.
You try to have his faith, but the best you can manage is a half-hearted maybe.
Cas has hidden your Blade somewhere safe, and he knows better than to tell you where. You tell him that’s good. And it is good. Because you’re jonesing for it already.
It’s been a long couple of days and you’re exhausted, but that’s not why you excuse yourself. You just need to be alone. Away from the hope and the expectations and the misplaced faith. You pat Cas on the back as you pass him and his grace makes something dark inside you writhe and squirm.
You know for sure now that the mark is an incurable disease. There is no resiting it, no resisting the Blade. Not long term. There is only remission and relapse.
You’ve already slipped once. And you never really thought you were strong enough to beat this thing for good. You stare at your face, fractured by the cracks in the mirror.
You’ve been in remission ever since Sammy cured your black eyes. You know what comes next.
--