Hello there, Skylinemaster here with a Supernatural one-shot.
"Speech."
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural.
The two Men of Letters stared at each other, ensure of what to do with the box in from of them. The two were sharply dressed men with slicked black hair in their 30s. On both of their faces show frustration at the item in front of them. Neither of them were happy when headquarters sent them down to a suburb of for their mission, but they had no choice but to accept the mission.
"The Werther box says it needs blood."
Fletcher said.
"I can see that."
Martinez said sarcastically, glancing at his taller partner.
"Where are we supposed to put the blood?"
Fletcher asked, pulling the handle.
The two heard a creaking sound, and leaned in closer.
"Did we do it?"
Martinez asked. His question was answered when the two were pushed back by an unseen force. The two Men of Letters hit their heads on the way down, the last thing they see a yellow mist coming closer to both of them.
Jason C. Fletcher opened his eyes, and knew that something was very, very wrong. He was back, there.
"Captain, get up!"
A rough voice yanked his body up, causing Jason to stare. Gunfire and the lit of the moon were all that could be seen and heard. The illumination of the moon allowed Captain Fletcher to see who pulled him up.
Ed?
No, that's not possible.
Sergeant Ed H. Harrison died, 10 years ago, on Iwo Jima.
"You're not real, Ed. You're dead."
Jason said as Ed turned around. His rough, ship-worn face staring directly at the Captain.
"I died, because of you. We all did."
Ed started as several other voices joined in.
The gunfire and artillery fire stopped, causing an eerie silence on the beach of Iwo Jima.
Jason turned around, seeing the tattered, dirty bodies of the Marines he led into battle. The Marines who died under his command.
Corporal Neil Hansen. His blue eyes, a stark contrast to the dirt on his pale face.
Master Sergeant David Smith. The old man of Charlie Company.
Private First Class Eric Henderson, a Mississippi boy that has a smile as big as the Milky Way.
Those were the ones he recognized, the ones who he personally saw die.
The Marines of 3rd Battalion, 23rd Marine Regiment, 4th Marine Division. His men. His Marines.
"You should have died that day, but you didn't. I did."
Master Sergeant David Smith said. Captain Fletcher remembered it clearly, the day he was closest to death. That Japanese bayonet was meant for him, but the Master Sergeant sacrificed himself on it. His face haunted the Man of Letters for many days and caused many sleepless nights.
"You want to, don't you?"
They taunted him.
He did. He should have died. HE SHOULD HAVE DIED.
Not them, not his men. Their faces haunt him, the cries of the grieving mothers sting his soul and have followed him to this day.
"Make it right, join us."
Corporal Neil Hansen said, giving him his knife.
"Join us, join us, join us."
The faceless Marines chanted as Captain Fletcher looked at the knife.
"Do it, join us, do it."
"Shut up."
"Do, it, join us, do it."
"I said shut up!"
With that, Captain Fletcher jammed the knife into his heart.
Julio Martinez opened his eyes. He wasn't wearing his suit anymore, he could feel that. He also wasn't in that cold basement.
Grass?
He sat up, noticing the grass underneath him. He looked at his clothes, they were his service uniform left over from the war.
It was then that he noticed where he was.
Old Lake Memorial Cemetery. He gritted his teeth as he knew what was here.
While he was in Italy fighting Nazis, he couldn't protect his family.
A fire, killed all of them.
His entire family.
He got up, staring at the row of headstones in front of him.
Maria Martinez
Born January 15 1918
Deceased November 18 1944
Devoted wife, daughter, and mother
He walked over to his wife's headstone and kneeled, muttering a quick prayer before moving to his left.
Lisa and David Martinez
Born November 3 1942
Deceased November 18 1944
He wasn't there for their birth. He was on the other side of the world, getting ready to take the fight to the Nazis in North Africa.
He never saw them, not even in pictures.
He cried over the children's headstone.
"How pathetic of a man are you, if you couldn't protect them? You could your country, but not your own family?"
He asked himself, bitterly.
"Julio, why did you leave us?"
Maria?
Julio looked up, there she was in all of her beauty. She was wearing the same white dress that she wore to their wedding.
"Why did you leave us?"
She asked, a sad look on her face.
"Maria, I had no choice."
Julio said, standing up and looking his wife in the face.
"You weren't there, you weren't there, for us."
She said, her voice breaking up.
"I-I.."
Julio couldn't finish his sentence. He knew she was right.
"You couldn't protect us, you couldn't save us."
"..Stop it! What do you want?!"
Julio snapped.
"You, Julio. I want us to join us. Let's be a family again."
She smiled. When she smiled, his heart skipped a beat.
"Maria."
He stared at his wife, and then at the headstones.
"Lisa and David."
Tears flowed down his cheeks. It was at that point, did he know what he needed to do.
He pulled out the hunting knife his father gave to him before he left.
It served him well, killing several Nazis as well as saving his skin on numerous occasions.
It will serve him one last time. He collapsed, in front of his wife's headstone.
"Maria."
He slit his left wrist.
"Lisa, David."
He slit his right wrist and laughed.
"I'll be with you again. Like the family we were meant to be."
He felt the blood drain from his body, but the pain was masked by the joy he felt.
"Maria, Lisa, David. I'll see you soon."
He kept muttering these words as he slipped closer to death, a smile on his face.
I hope you enjoyed that. Please review.
Until next time, Skylinemaster out.