I read a harrowing little piece of fiction by the loverly author Foreverwolf just now and it got me to thinking about something another favorite author of mine, Simon R. Green, wrote. Specifically, this line: "it will all end in tears…". I just had to write what I was feeling, so here it goes. Sammy's POV. The missing scene after Dean left in the episode "99 Problems".
It Will All End In Tears…
The door closes with such a sudden and inconceivable finality. It was the last time I saw Dean for three days. I was tending the Father's wounds, hesitantly waiting for the purported clean bandages Dean had gone to retrieve from the Impala. The rumbling growl of her engine sounded and I was on my feet in an instant, wrenching the door wide into a quivering, gaping maw of cheap framing and timber. Dean's baby was kicking up gravel and dust behind her as she and her owner burned fast and furious out of my sight line into the faded distance. I pelted after her and, indeed, after my wayward brother, but my long-legged strides were no match for her prowling cruise, no matter how fast I could run. Gasping, breath hitching and catching in my chest, I stumbled to a graceless stop which soon became a spiking, grinding pain that reverberated up through my entire body when I dropped, boneless, to my knees.
"Dean…" I wheezed brokenly as tears rose to my eyes.
"Please no, Dean…please don't leave me…" I whispered, arms unconsciously moving to hug themselves around me, as if they could comfort me in any way, shape or form at this point. The ones I really needed, the ones that had always comforted me and made my little world safe…they were rolling away from me, their owner putting distance between us as I sit here and break apart inside.
I realized, more so than ever before, when we had been killed on that not so long ago night…or, well, killed again would be more apt…but I realized now what a unique and incredible person I had had in my life all along and how very much a disservice I had done to him all our lives. He was only ever looking for, needing…craving one thing: to love and be loved. He loved without thought, without holding anything back. He never had held himself back, not when it came to those he let into his heart. All he had ever wanted was to receive the same attention in return. I saw now that I had never done this one simple thing for him. He gave everything for me and our tattered and torn little family and we all just took advantage of it. Our father was guilty of the same crime, perpetuating it everyday by failing to treat my brother as anything more than a nanny, a soldier, an expendable tool to be used until it broke. It was always made known to Dean that his purpose was to watch over his little brother and to fight the terrible things that go bump in the night. He had stopped being a son and our father, I don't think, was ever able to see him in that way again.
When our father gave up his life to save Dean's, I think he had only just glimpsed what a disservice he himself had done to his son and, in his own way, he had tried to make it right. He'd then almost immediately undone what he had set out to accomplish by telling his son he may have to kill the one person in his life that he loved more than anything. Talk about the king of mixed messages…our dad, the flawed, and, as I had known all along, the all-too-human hero.
I mourn the man that might have been, the man Dean was made to be was but a shadow of what an incredible person he might have been. Dean, of course, could never see that about himself. To him, he was flawed, bad, in constant need of doing good things to outweigh his perceived misdeeds. He couldn't be further from the truth. Selflessness and genuine heroism are far too rare and almost never a life-long mission. A "normal" man or woman might commit an act of heroism once in a lifetime, if ever. Dean lived it, breathed it, was every inch the tragic hero. Seeing what Heaven was for my big brother, seeing what he held dear…I should have known, I shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow, I still was.
When Dean saw my heaven…at first, they were great memories, treasured and tenaciously sought after. The life I always wanted, glimpsed and briefly held for small bits of time throughout my life until, for almost four years, I had at last had it. I was going to grow old with Jess. Have children, have a "normal" life and never have to face the life I had lived unwillingly for my formative years. When Dean saw, when he looked at me, questioned me… I saw what he saw. Almost all my most precious moments were of everything else and everyone else then the brother, the father, really, who had given everything he had to let me have my dreams. My Heaven seemed more like a Hell now, seeing it through his eyes then FINALLY seeing him throughout it all.
Any hope that had burned, a tiny, ephemeral flame inside him, died right then and there. God did not care. His own little brother, a son to be sure and best friend, too, he was not the man Dean had seen all along after all, but a selfish, arrogant man, instead. Personal revelations are always the hardest to bear. A life-long being shaped inside your mind's eye is suddenly and irretrievably shown to be something far different then you ever knew. Dean died that day, that moment. All he held onto gone, shattered and smashed into dust.
"Dean…" I sobbed, my weary eyes slipping closed as I wept. Huddled there, screaming inside, mourning my big brother, I knew, finally, truly what a monster I was, how evil I was. True evil isn't about blood and gore, or a body count or any of that. True evil is about conquering good, breaking it down, tearing it apart, and utterly destroying it. Dean, the most selfless, unassuming man I had ever known, was good…pure…tragically beautiful despite or, perhaps because of his flaws. Only someone truly evil would ravage and ruin someone like that. Someone like me.
"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry, Dean…" I whispered, knowing it could never be enough, not for the crimes I had committed against him. I prayed, as I had wont to do for a long time now, but I prayed then for the shattered soul of my broken brother. If God heard me, he didn't seem to care and that lead me to wonder if a God that could let such harrowing, undeserved things happen to such a pure soul as Dean was worthy of being prayed to after all…
A/N: So, as always, please tell me what you think? Also, please let me know if you are interested in my jewelry items I make!!!! Thank you so much for reading!!!