Forever playing hero.
Character/s: Dean. It's an internal monologue sort of thing. Go figure.
Disclaimer: Because painfully, I own nothing.
Warning: Language?
Dean's been this way since before he can remember, or at least that's how he plays it (because yes, he can still remember those carefree, happy-go-lucky days when he had the crusts cut off of his PB&J's and he could still cry when something hurt because he didn't have to play the hero).
He's sardonic and violent and bitter (but it's not like those are bad things, honest) and he's also strong and good-looking and he's got determination and love (though that's not the word he'll use – never-ever) by the truck-load as well as a big steamy pile of attitude (but hey he can't help it – he's exactly who God created him to be).
But more and more recently, he's started to find that living, it's getting hard (harder then living should be) and he doesn't know whether whatever happens at the end of this apocalypse is going to be worth it (because if God doesn't give a shit anymore, then why should he?)
He doesn't know whether it's going to be worth all the agony and the fatigue and the white picket fence that he never knew he wanted until the option became a reality he could never choose again (after-all, even as a hunter he could have pulled out whenever he wanted, because it's not like Sam would have fought to stay).
And because it's the Apocalypse, win or lose the result probably won't be pretty and the body count will be high (and if he's completely honest, he's not even expecting to live through it).
And if he's going to lay all of his cards on the table, he's been living this life so long now that it's first nature, and he thinks he's seen every side of humanity that there is to see and he's not sure if at the end of the day, when the curtain's are closed and there's nothing but him and the mirror whether it's worth saving (because people are greedy, and vengeful, and they'll stab you in the back and leave you for dead without a second thought – and when you look at it like that, what else is there to say?)
But there's this thing keeping him from simply giving up and he's not sure whether it's devotion or stupidity because it's the only reason he's still breathing (and he doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not).
Sam's not the same as him. He's never had those memories of love and normal and Dean hates it, hates that he couldn't have even the time that he had with their Mother and their family in their oh-so-perfect life.
And Sam's always been striving for something that Dean's never understood, because he's happy to follow their Dad in whatever he chooses to do (and it's not because he's the better son, it's because John's the only person Dean had left who remembers what life was like before all of this, and because John saved Dean when he couldn't save himself – and in a way that's why Sam will happily give his life for his brother). But that need for freedom and safety, is something that Dean gave up (and not out of choice) much too long ago.
Sam's made a lot of bad choices, and although starting the apocalypse might be the biggest, Dean knows it's not the worst (or at least not in his eyes) because the worst (by far) wasn't when Sam walked out and left him behind when he wanted to go to college. It wasn't even swallowing down all of that demon blood and going dark side. It was the moment he turned his back on the fact that they were brothers and chose Ruby over him, and Dean's haunted by the betrayal (and his heart still hurts with the pain of it all – but he physically cannot admit it out loud, because feeling is a sign of weakness and that's one of the most important lessons he learnt from his Dad).
But for all of the shit that they've been through (self-imposed or not), Dean doesn't understand how Sam can still be so fucking optimistic, because there's nothing left for them (not really), and he still refuses to give up. Refuses to see that when the world crumbles and everybody falls, they're going to be alone and with nothing because nobody gives a shit about anybody anymore, (especially them) and even Cas agrees, Dean's been able to see it in his eyes ever since they got back from heaven and speaking with Joshua.
(Because in the end all they really are, are two lost little boys looking for somewhere to feel safe).
And Dean doesn't even know why Sam's still fighting (because more so than even Dean he's got nothing to fight for except everybody else) but he is. And it might have something to do with humanity and all of the lives and the possibilities (because Sam's always had this way of seeing the best in everything and apparently even though there is no such thing as an innocent person, everybody has a choice – it's part of having free-will – and every human being has the right to exist, to love and laugh and hurt and be hurt in return and according to Sam that's important). Or it could be guilt because he's the one that allowed Lucifer to rise and thinking about it, Dean knows that that's definitely part of the reason (but only a little).
Because somehow the main part of it, is the fact that he has all of this faith that there's a miracle waiting for them around every corner (as if their lives aren't just one long show of angels and God playing with them as if they're puppets for the amusement of the celestial beings and nothing else) and more than that.
Sam still has hope.
And Dean's fucking jealous, because it's as if Sam's got Pandora's – freaking – box hidden in the depths of his heart and he just doesn't understand how Sam can keep going when he can't. How his little fucking brother can walk into the Apocalypse knowing that chances are they won't be coming back, and keep himself together as if he's not shaking apart at the seams, because Dean can't. He just can't.
And day by day, the end for everything (because either way something's got to give) is ticking closer, and there's genuine fear (like nothing that Dean's ever felt before – not even when he was in Hell) growing inside of him at the thought. Because he doesn't want to die (even if he has already – several times), and that's exactly what it boils down to.
He doesn't want to die.
But he knows that at the end of this he'll have nothing left to live for because he's been stained by the shadows of the job he's been brought up to do, and the lines of his existence can't blur with the apple-pie life that he's started to crave. And in his gut he knows that they won't come out of this intact (he's known it since the gate first opened) and life without Sam, and Cas, and Bobby...
He smirks at himself, because what else can he do (he's having a chick flick moment in his head and truth be told, that's a tad worrying), he'll fight destiny with everything that he has. With everything that he is. And if that's not enough then fuck everything.
At least he can say that he tried (which is more than a hell of a lot of other people can).