Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way, shape, or form
Author's Notes: Quick Bob, get the children into the minivan, I think the world might stop revolving because Eri finally got off her lazy ass and posted something!
Warnings: Devil's Trap spoilers, strong language, and it's very different from anything that I've ever written before...be warned.
Demon
good things come to those who wait
&
winchesters come to those who plot
Dean
One second you're driving the car, running red lights, flirting with the cute chick walking by.
The next minute it's blood guts spilled red out bleed
Dad!
Sam
Dean always liked ballpoint pens for researching. When we were kids, I bought him a pack of uniball pens for his birthday, thought I was being terrific and nice, and he asked me what the hell he was supposed to do with these.
Damn it, Sam, don't eulogize.
Dean!
John
Get out of me get out get out leave me and the boys leave us alone dirty son of a bitch fucker evil inside clawing at my innards get OUT leave Mary's boys alone…
Mary!
Dean
I'm going to die in this godforsaken old…
ohGodohGodohGodohGod
Not in front of Sammy. Don't let me die in front of Sammy.
Copper liquid metal on lips, neck…
Running down my BODY
Coursing through my veins
OhgodDADDY?
Sam
Come here, get over here you little sonuvabitch gun...
Dean swore too much.
John
He's four.
He's four, big bright eyes looking up through sandy colored bangs as the words, "Don't look back!" penetrate his being.
He's four.
He's four and clumsy falling tripping down stairs to save his brother, to save us ALL.
He's four and a superhero, and superheroes don't die like this…
…neither do sons, for that matter.
Sam
Dad…DAD!
help
Don't let him die…
…the funeral shouldn't be a Wednesday. Dean always hated Wednesdays.
Mom died on a Wednesday.
Dean
The fuel's on E.
Darkness invades, and then…
…mom?
John
NO!
…
Sam
Ah.
Colt…Colt…hands fumble nerves no no no save them, save him.
Save us all.
Demon
If you kill me, you kill Daddy.
Sam can't kill. It's a fact.
It's how I made him.
John
Shoot the gun!
He's ten and skeet shooting, clay pigeons. Big hands on little hands on gun, boom boom boom…
Come on, Sammy, one more clay pigeon…
Dean
…mom?
Is that you?
…………
am i gone?
did it hurt?
Sam
Gun drops to ground like a hot poptart on a cold kitchen floor.
Dean…?
Dean
Don't make me go back there…don't do it…just, mom, just let it all end…M…
…Sam.
eyes snapopen bushy hair big eyes fists clench
brothers-end-