Title: Faultlines
Author: Wysawyg
Summary: Post-AHBL1 tag so spoilers for that episode. Series of vignettes covering Dean's thoughts over the events of the episode. Songfic.
Disclaimer: The Winchesters and the Angst Of Doom all belong to Kripke and the CW. The song in question belongs to Karine Polwart. I am but a poor player that types and taps my hour upon the page and then is heard no more.
A/N: The song used for bits of this fic is Karine Polwart's 'Faultlines.' She's an excellent British folk artist and I recommend listening to any of her stuff! I suggest trying to listen to the song before reading the fic 'cos the song is so beautiful that it does most of my writing work for me! There's a 34 second clip up on her website - wwwDOTkarinepolwartDOTcom
I swore I'd never write a song fic as the insertion of lyrics usually annoys me but I was listening to the album on my minidisc player on the walk to work and the lyrics just fit too well to Dean so I had to write.
"Have you ever held something
Until your hands were aching
And then let it go and watched it fall
And listened to it breaking"
Sam had always had a good relationship with food. At least to the best of Dean's recollection.
He'd been an unfussy baby, eating whatever bizarre concoctions that Dean and their father mixed up for him. As a toddler, he'd tried to eat everything in sight. Dean had had to stop buying him crayons after a while. He'd gone through a rebellious phase as a child, insisting on eating vegetables and other green stuff instead of the 'heat for five minutes on the hob' style of cooking Dean preferred.
But yes, Sam had always seemed to love food. Dean couldn't figure out why food now seemed to hate him.
It was the only conclusion to draw. Sam goes out to get burgers and ends up getting possessed. Sam goes out to get pie and doesn't come back. Once Dean got his brother back then Sam was never allowed to get food ever again, even if that meant they had to survive on junk food for the rest of their lives.
Dean wasn't ready to deal with the fact that his last words to his brother might be 'Bring me some pie.'
"I have held back time and tide
When all the world was plenty
But now my hands are open wide
Open wide and empty."
Calling Bobby was the obvious decision. Dean wasn't entirely sure if the older hunter could actually do anything about the 'Pie stole my brother away' problem, Dean needed to think of a way of phrasing that that didn't sound like a bad country song, but just having the hunter there would give Dean the sense of doing something. Dean made quick time in the too-empty Impala to the meeting spot they'd agreed on. Bobby wasn't there yet so Dean just got out of the still-too-empty car and paced around.
It was ridiculous. That's what it was. Dad, dad had told Dean to save Sammy or to kill him. He'd never mentioned that Dean wouldn't get a fighting chance for either. That one day Sam could just up and disappear, leaving a tiny café full of bodies and his brother. There had to be something, some sort of supernatural 'Sam is here' sign.
When Bobby arrived and unrolled that map, mentioning something about recent demonic activities, Dean's heart leapt and he looked for the arrow. The map was as empty as the passenger seat of the Impala. No possessions, no attacks, not even a demon nipping out for a burger.
The sound of Dean's phone ringing was the most welcome sound he'd heard all week. Sure, he wasn't exactly in the mood for Ash's stoned mumbling but the guy was smart. The cloak-and-dagger bullshit pissed him off though. When Bobby swung into the passenger seat of the Impala instead of getting back into his own truck, Dean could breathe for the first time though the car felt just as empty.
"For every breath that leaves me now,
Another comes to fill me.
And for every death that grieves me now
The next will surely kill me."
His breathing stopped just as abruptly as they rounded the corner up to the roadhouse to find nothing but an ashen ruin. Dean wanted to stay in the car, wanted to do anything but step out into the burnt wreckage either and face what his quest to find the demon had brought.
He stepped through the wreckage, hoping the crunching beneath his feet was the remains of the building rather than human bones. He searched for any sign of Ellen or Ash, guilty that the scorched corpses of other hunters didn't quite mean so much to him.
There was relief when Bobby stated that he couldn't see Ellen or Ash. It wasn't total relief as most of the bodies were burnt beyond all recognition, even as a human being. It was relief that lasted all of two seconds until he spotted a familiar watch. One that he remembered Ash boasting about winning off some rookie hunter in a pool tournament just a few weeks before. That only led to more guilt as his first thought was about the lost information about Sammy rather than the blistered body of his friend. Sammy first, always Sammy first.
"We should get out of here." Bobby said, "Before whatever did this thinks to check back." Dean silently felt that whatever did this was long gone but he had no stomach for standing about in the ruins, worried that the next body he saw would have something identifying it as Ellen or even as Jo returned for a visit.
"Let's go." Dean agreed.
"For those borders crumble every day
The fautlines are showing
And all I thought was here to stay
Slowly is going"
Of course getting away is easier said that done when one minute he was talking to Bobby and the next minute it felt like his head was trying to explode from the inside out. He thought he saw something flash before his eyes like when you stared into the sun for too long and then saw negative imprints of it everywhere.
Dean cussed, that was just what he needed. He needed to be right on the top of his game at the moment. If it was the demon that took Sammy then it was unlikely that he'd give him up without a fight. Dean barely had time to reassure Bobby that he wasn't running for the title of co-psychic boy of the Winchester family before it hit again.
His first thought was, "Ouch!" Shortly followed by his second and third thoughts of, "Oh shit," and "That hurts." The image of the bell flashed again and then the welcome sight of Sam's living face. This time the pain didn't fade away entirely, leaving him with the feeling that a giant hand had clamped down on his skull combined with the strange sensation of being a little stoned.
As he came back entirely to himself, he could feel Bobby's hand on his shoulder and the comfort of his presence. The comfort waned somewhat as Bobby quizzed him on what he'd seen. His swiss-cheesed mind scrabbled for any details of the painful event, feeling sympathy for everything that Sam had endured. He bit out the details, bracing himself for the return of the pain.
All worry of pain faded into nothing when Bobby said the most beautiful words in the world, "I know where Sam is."
"History abandons us
and we're holding on, holding on
To nothing but dirt and dust
We're holding, holding on."
When they left the truck, Dean wanted to run. He wanted to race through the track that lead towards the town, leaving Bobby behind. He wanted to keep running faster and faster until he found his brother and never let him out of his sight again. He didn't though. Common sense won out, telling him that he needed to save his strength for whatever he would face.
When they reached the town what seemed like a lifetime later, Dean broke all rules of common sense and screamed out his brother's name, hoping beyond hope for a response. When the response came in the form of his brother walking towards him, looking bruised and cradling his arm, Dean paused to take in the sight feeling relieved beyond all measure.
Just a few feet, such a short space separating the brothers, when he saw the dark-skinned man come up behind his brother with a knife. His yelled out warning came too late and the sickening sound of a knife sliding into flesh met his ears. He desperately tried to cross the space between them, screaming a denial even as he saw Sam tumble to his knees.
He cradled his brother and called his name, tried to call him back into himself. Sam sagged boneless against him, head lolling out of control and open eyes staring at nothing. He spat out words like they were magic bullets, like somehow if he just said it then it'd be true and Sam'd be fine.
Sam died in his arms without even a goodbye.
"While those borders crumble every day
The faultlines are showing
And all I thought was here to stay
Slowly is going."
When Bobby returned, Dean heard his gasp of shock and then the swift footsteps and the words said to Dean, a low rumble of what was likely meant to be comfort. Dean couldn't listen to that yet, he needed to keep listening to Sam. Any minute now, he'd hear the thump of Sam's heartbeat once more. Any moment. Any moment. Any.
"Dean, we need to go." Bobby's words intruded on Dean's attempt to listen but he couldn't raise his eyes up from his brother, watching for the flutter of eyelids, for something that'd tell him his little brother was just playing dead once more.
When one of Bobby's hands gripped onto Dean's shoulder, he lashed out, flailing a limb in a blow he knew the other hunter could avoid. Just as quickly, he re-attached his arm to grabbing onto Sam, holding him so close that they could almost merge into one person.
"Dean," Bobby's voice was soft, even as it pushed through into Dean's grief-shrouded mind, "We have to go. Come on, Dean. Give me, Sammy. We need to get back to the car." It reminded Dean of the times they'd stop off at Bobby's after a hunt gone too badly wrong and Bobby'd help to patch them up, always muttering his own monologue as he went through. 'It's not that bad, quit whimpering. A little lost blood never hurt anyone. I've seen worse.'
Bobby moved and this time hands tugged at Dean's arms, loosening Sam from his grip and lifting the long body away. Dean surged forwards, tightening his grip and pulling Sam back towards him.
"I'm not playing tug o' war with you over Sam, Dean." Bobby snapped, his voice growing harsher, "Stop being a damn fool and let your brother go." Dean finally lifted his gaze up from Sam to stare bewildered at the hunter. Bobby's expression instantly morphed to apology, "I'm sorry, Dean. I really am. We need to go." He repeated.
"What about Sam?" Dean croaked, his voice feeling rough like he hadn't used it for a thousand years.
"Sam's already gone." Bobby said, voice cajoling and soothing at once. "We'll take what's left with us and give him a proper burial. Let's get out of this place."
For the second time that day, Dean agreed. He stood slowly, feeling like his body wouldn't respond properly to him and then hoisted his little brother up into his arms, trying to manage the lanky dead weight as best he could. "Let's go."
"Have you ever held something
Until your hands were aching
And then let it go and watched it fall
And listened to it breaking?"
A/N: Feedback as always is adored.