end of the tunnel
~remymckwakker
is that a light at the end of the tunnel that i see
please let it be but don't
wake me till the morning after
Dead by Sunrise - Morning After
When it comes to Kevin, Sam and Dean don't sugarcoat anything – they know he's just a kid, that he's scared and bitter and miserable, but also that he's in the life now and he can't get out, and that he'll continue doing what he does no matter what. There's a bigger picture, after all.
Kevin, God bless the kid, understands that too, and doesn't put up much of a fuss about it. He translates and scribbles and reads like his life depends on it (it kind of does, ironically enough), and if there are results he gives them to the Winchesters. He drinks, coffee in the morning but he always moves on to whiskey by afternoon, and he works. He barely eats. That's just the way his life is.
Crowley is with them too now and it takes all his self-control to not steal Sam and Dean's knife and go stab the motherfucker. He knows Crowley is essential to them, for information if not his witty comments, and he knows that sometimes you've got to push all emotion back so that it doesn't fuck with your work.
But God help him, every time he thinks of Crowley he thinks of his mother, and Channing, and it fucking hurts. It hurts, but there's nothing he can do about it but drink some more.
It's obvious the trials have fucked Sam up, and any fool can see how protective Dean is being. It's kinda heartwarming, watching Dean look after Sam, but it's also heartbreaking because it reminds Kevin of his mother. When he was sick she would make him alphabet soup and tuck him in, and sing him to sleep no matter how old he got, and he remembers the feeling of warmth and dozing off to his mother's off-key rendition of I Will Always Love You.
It still hurts, and he still drinks, but now he also wishes that there was someone to look after him the way Dean looks after Sam.
It's midnight and he can't sleep. He can't focus either – caffeine and alcohol combined is not good for concentration, he has learned. It's messing with his mind, the lack of sleep and fatigue and drinking and everything in general, and sometimes he thinks he hears his mother speak to him. Of course it's not true, and she's not there, but he can't bring himself to ignore her.
Tonight is worse than usual because Crowley taunted him about his mother, and Channing, and Sam nearly fainted while reading so Dean's touchier than usual. Crowley was dealt with a punch to the face and locked doors, and Dean took care of Sam, helping him to his room and murmuring soothing words. Dean thinks Kevin doesn't know, but it's obvious – every night Dean waits till he thinks Kevin is asleep, and then sneaks off to Sam's room. He can't bear to have his brother out of his sight, and more than once Kevin has found Dean asleep in a chair near Sam's bed, or in the bed itself, arms wrapped tightly around Sam.
He misses his mother some more, and drinks a little bit more, every time Dean sneaks off to protect Sam from both their nightmares.
It's simple, Kevin decides three shots of whiskey later. His mother's not here, and he's lonely, and Dean says they're all family. Family helps.
So he wraps up his things for tonight, and goes to his room to change into shorts and a T-shirt, and then he goes off to Sam's room. The door is ajar, and he's grateful because he's never mastered the art of turning handles without making noise. He pushes it open and hesitates at the threshold.
It's a bed night instead of a chair night, and Dean is wrapped so tightly around Sam it's hard to tell whose limbs are whose. Sam's hair is all over his pillow, and his face is buried in Dean's shoulder, and it's the most peaceful he's seen both of them ever look. It's kind of sad, really – but if it works for them, it's fine by him.
Uncertainly he steps into the room, and wonders whether he'll be kicked off the bed or not. It's barely fitting the Winchesters on it, and it doesn't look nowhere near big enough for three.
His foot crashes into something and he yelps before he can stop himself. Instantly Dean is awake and upright, and Kevin finds himself facing down the business end of a gun. "It's just me," he says nervously, and Dean sighs, putting the gun away.
"You all right?" he asks gruffly, relaxing. Sam is still sound asleep, and Kevin knows it's the exhaustion preventing him from having shot upright like Dean.
"I'm okay," Kevin tells Dean. He bites his lower lip. His plan sounded a lot better when he wasn't faced with a grouchy, sleepy Dean Winchester. "I just–"
"Spit it out, Kevin," Dean says with a yawn. "It's the middle of the night."
"I just missed my mom," Kevin blurts out, and then, because he's said as much and he might as well continue, "I miss my mom and I miss how she used to look after me because there's really no one to do it now but you're looking after Sam and you said we're family and I was thinking maybe–"
"I could look after you as well," finishes Dean, and his expression softens.
Kevin nods shyly. "I'll just, uh, go now," he mumbles.
"Come here," Dean says, and Kevin obliges. Dean Winchester isn't the kind of person you say no to, under any circumstances. Dean waits until Kevin is right next to the bed, and says, "You're welcome here any time you want. As long as you don't drool, kick or fart in your sleep."
"I don't fart in my sleep!" Kevin says defensively, before Dean's words register. "Oh. Really?"
Dean nods, a ghost of a smile on his face. "C'mere." He moves aside to make space, and Kevin hesitantly climbs in next to him. Some shoving, kicking and wriggling later he finds himself squeezed in the space between Sam and Dean, with Dean's arms going over and around him to rest on Sam. It's warm, unbelievably warm, and Kevin relaxes inch by inch.
"Thank you," he whispers. Dean's only answer is a sleepy grunt.
For the first time in ages, Kevin feels safe. He knows that this is going to be another one of those things they don't talk about, and he's going to be embarrassed as hell in the morning, but right now he doesn't care. Right now he is warm again.
It goes on for weeks after that, their arrangement. Sam does not comment when he wakes to find Kevin's arm slung over him. Kevin does not comment when Sam cuddles like some kind of teddy bear. All of them keep their mouths shut about Dean's habit of sleeping with his arms around them – his little broken family.
Except now it's pain, so much pain, and his head is on fire, his eyes are burning and he doesn't understand because a moment ago he was talking to Sam, but it's not Sam anymore, it's something else in Sam's body, and it hurts, oh God it hurts. He thinks of his mother and Channing and Dean and Sam, their Sam, not this creature walking around with his face on, and the pain is too much.
He tries to tell Sam it's okay, and he doesn't blame him, it's all right and maybe it'll even be a relief despite the agony, but before he can get the words out his world goes blank and he feels himself falling, falling, falling...
And now Dean is left cradling Kevin's body, brushing his hair out of his eyes and crying, apologizing over and over again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" like an endless litany of despair and brokenness and that's all Dean is now, shattered glass that's hard and sharp and rough around the edges. Kevin does not respond, he is dead and Dean can't help but think of all the nights when Kevin sneaked in and got into bed with him and Sam – and oh God, Sam, his Sammy is gone, and there is nothing left for him now.
Kevin falls, and Sam screams, trapped inside his own body, and Dean cries.
I apologize.
I really don't know where this morbid piece of morbidity came from. I'm just so upset right now because I loved the fuck out of Kevin, and I want Kevin and Sam back, and I just. I'm so angry. And sad.
How the fuck am I supposed to wait till January 14. This is worse than the last midseason finale ugh.
Feel free to sob with me in the reviews.
-Peace x