I'll be posting some drabbles and short pieces here. Basically it will be ideas that have come to me but won't work as full-fledged stories. Most will be episode tags, etc. Please review, and as always I answer all reviews at my blog.
And no, I don't own the boys, much to my dismay.
This first piece is a tag to The Benders, in which there appeared my favorite female character ever on Supernatural. It is told from Dean's perspective.
As soon as she says it, I know she's lying.
"Shot. Trying to escape."
And I know then that the demon revenge got her, just like it has me. I can't fault her. There's plenty of blame to go around in this redneck shithole, but I wouldn't place any of it on her. Not for this. I'd have done the same thing if I were in her spot. I'd have blown that tobacco-stinkin' sunuvabitch to hell and gone if he'd been responsible for killing my brother. I'd kill the world to revenge Sam, and even that wouldn't be enough.
She's shell-shocked. Blank faced and glassy eyed. She may be a cop, but I can tell for sure that she's never seen anything like this. This is world-class evil; evil that makes you wonder if you're going to wake up with a start in your bed, gasping from the horror of the dream. I wish she could wake up from it. But she won't. Now she's just another person who has seen how fucked up this world can be, and it will change her forever.
She's honest though, when she says that knowing what happened to her brother doesn't make it any easier. She can't know yet that it won't ever get easier. For the rest of her life, every time she thinks of her brother, of this night, her stomach will knot and her skin will crawl. Her brother will forever be linked with the memory of evil, of murder, of terror in the woods. Just like my mom's memory always brings the scent of burning flesh and the sound of baby Sam crying.
She smiles as she sends us away, the skin at the corners of her eyes crinkling. But I see what she's trying to hide, the quiver of her chin, the tears threatening to betray her. Part of me wants to hug her, to gather her up and tell her that it will be all right, that the pain will go away.
But I don't. Because it won't. So I leave her there in the woods, with the body of the man she killed for revenge and the memory of her brother, and with the knowledge that her life will never be the same again.