Title: It Allows for Silence
Author: PhoenixDragon
Fandom: Supernatural
Genre: Gen (for now, anyway), Angst, Horror
Characters/Pairing: Dean (for now) other characters mentioned
Rating: R (gonna get nasty once or twice folks)
Warnings: Set S3/S4, mentions of violence and gore.
A/N: More thinky than anything else, guys. Kind of a reluctant foray back into writing. Just bear with me for now - and we'll see this through!
Summary: Silence is salvation
Disclaimer(s): I don't own them - and in the end, that is WAY better for them and mores the pity for me! Kripke takes better care of them, anyway (and we all know what a bad Daddy HE is, lol!)

Sometimes, it allows for silence.

The crackling of heat against pavement as the horizon stretches on and on - sand, wind, trees, cracked concrete meeting endless, endless sky...

The heated greasy feel of a cleaning rag after checking the oil, the stench of enginehotmotorscorchedmetal crashing into you and out again as you breathe - you only coming up for air when it's done - slamming the hood shut with the blood of Her caked under your nails in a brownish-black smear until it is wiped clean with a rag that shows its age...

The hissing fizz of a Coke in your throat after a job well done, bubbles of carbonation rising up to tickle your nose and make your eyes water with the sudden shock of cold, even as the same reminds you of heat and sweat found under the hood - even as it flashes memories of times gone by - but they are all ALL like this hot/cold/sweat and satisfaction - all in a bright red can with that white squiggle on the side...

It allows it even in the scuffle-screek of boots against the ground as you shift for a better position upon the Car, Her metal burning a hole in your left buttock as you relish the very feel of it - the contrast between the heated jeans against your skin and the slick, icy feel of the cola can in your hand - its sugary-washed stickiness coating your tongue enough to send shivers down your spine and creeping against the base of your skull...

It lets you know that you're alive - even when a fleeting, worried tendril of thought tells you that you are most certainly not ~

SAMMM? SAMMM!!!!! ~

not in the real sense anyway - but that is a worry that can be saved for later. Right now there is just the ripple mirage of road ahead, the squeaky trill of tunes coming through the cracked window beside you and the thrum of 'Go-Go-Go' against every fiber of your being.

It was time to move on.


He always liked driving at night. He liked everything better about the nighttime, really - but driving...driving was an experience all in itself at night. Nothing existed but the road - no signs but those that flashed by in the wash of your headlights, no farms, no trees, no movement. Just you, the road, the moon, the silence.

It all came down to the silence.

Heavy and oppressive, light and teasing, thrumming with the noise underneath - silence was real, silence was salvation. In the quiet, in the stillness, your breathing and heartbeat were more heard than felt - though that sensation wasn't quite right either. You just were - and that was okay. It was the noise that could do you in - screaming, pleading, whispers - all were just obstacles in the path of your destruction - obstacles to be picked up and tossed aside as you raced to the finish line of nothingness. To listen to the silence and breath and know, just know that this was the end, that it was over.

Well...

That was salvation in and of itself, wasn't it? And nothing brought that out more than the open road. The open road through the darkness - that was the road for him - it always had been, always would be. And he was satisfied with that, he was comfortable with that - he was an easy man to please all told. Who needed the light anyway? Light was pervasive and glaring, light was far more dangerous than the dark, truth be told. A hell of alot more things could hide in the light of day, than in the pitch-black of night - the soft darkness soothed the bleakness away, the tragic screaming horror of life as it laid out, dying in the sun. It was so much easier to hide in the light, the side of the light - and never be seen for what you are. For what you were - or what you could be.

In the dark it was easier to be nothing. And when that was all you ever were, well...

It was just easy.