Drive On

by Rowan Blake

What does Dean think every time the boys go in to battle? From the beginning it hasn't been an easy hand to play, but he's gotten pretty good at working the cards he's dealt. Short drabble from the oldest Winchester's point of view exploring how he deals with the messes his family always ends up in-and how he soldiers on.

The basics of any hunting job are pretty damn simple: do, or die.

Literally.

It doesn't matter if your muscles feel like Jell-O or if you're ten minutes from bleeding out all over some poor bastard's white carpet- you finish the job. Sammy spouted some fact ages ago that some species of sharks have to keep swimming or they'll die right where they stop. I don't know if he even remembers saying it-I don't think Sam could recall a quarter of the trivia he spews at me on a daily basis-but I kind of feel like it applies to us.

You reach a point in every fight where your arms feel like lead and your head starts to split, or the gaping hole in your side really starts to leak like it might spit out an organ or two if you hit the floor one more time. That right there is your moment to choose.

Do.

Or die.

And yeah, most times I've done this it would have been too easy to roll over and give up. But I've been told that I am one stubborn sonofabitch. I wouldn't mind dying. I've done it before and it actually isn't terrible. When it's quick it hurts like hell, loud and messy. When it's slow your face goes numb and your body feels like ice, and a one-legged fat man is bouncing on your chest like it's a friggin' trampoline, but after a while everything starts to blur together and the whole world just…stops.

But I won't die until I'm down, and you've gotta be quick to knock me off my feet.

Cocky? Maybe.

But true.