Broken Down
By Denaya Calcagni
Song: Swallow the Knife by Story of the Year
So
our open wounds will bleed until our veins run dry.
Now we have
to take this thorn and tear it from our side.
Agitated at the
fault line still agree to disagree
You're connected to the heart
but tonight will set you free.
Weak. Sammy called me weak. And now I'm here, unable to sleep. Unable to eat. When he's around I just know he's thinking that I'm bringing him down. Maybe he is better off without me. What have I done, really done, to help him? I took him away from his school, his dream job, his hot girlfriend. I brought him back into this when he didn't want to come. I made him watch his girlfriend die. I made him go through the death of Madison. I watched him die, I couldn't save him like Dad wanted me to. I brought him back, but maybe that demon bastard was right. Maybe what came back isn't really Sammy. I killed for him. Died for him. I sent him into the arms of that demon bitch. I tried to keep him safe. I tried, Dad. What happened? Where is my little brother?
So
swallow the knife
Carve the way for your pride.
Now our hands
are tied.
The problems lie within.
So we pray for night to
start over again.
"You sure you want me to come along? I mean I don't want to hold you back." This burger tastes like shit. Everything has tasted like shit since that night. I just do not have the heart for it. I'm the older brother, I should be protecting him. He's had to pull my ass out of so much, I probably do hold him back.
"Come on, you're still going to hold that against me? We were under a spell, remember?" Yeah. I remember. I wasn't lying, Sammy-boy, why should I expect you were? It was the same damn spell we were under, Sammy. Do you not remember that?
Ugh, I can't stomach this shitty burger. "Yeah, I'll come along."
Even
now as I write this down
Our pretensions disappear.
Now our
impulses will bite
At the ankles of our fear.
I don't know what they think I can do. I'm not half the man my father was, I'm not even half the man my brother is. On the ground. Always on the ground. Oh, Alistair, I miss the bite of your razors. At least I knew where I stood with you. We always know where we stand in Hell. I was a toy. Then a tool. Nothing more. Nothing less. It was easier. So much easier. Praised by the one who first tortured me. It had felt so good. I hope Dad didn't see me down there. Just another disappointment from worthless Dean. It wasn't me, was it Dad? It was always Sammy. Protect him. What if I can't protect him anymore, Dad? What if he doesn't want me to? What if he stops me? What if… I can't do it, Dad. Not any way possible. I can try to talk. But he never listens. I wasn't a good son, was I? I fear that I was just a failure, Dad. Am I?
So
swallow the knife
Carve the way for your pride.
Now our hands
are tied.
The problems lie within.
So we pray for night to
start over again.
"What happened back there?" Please don't lie to me, Sammy. I can't take another lie from you. I can feel the change. In every word you speak I can hear the disdain. I can hear the pity. Don't pity me, Sammy. I'm a big boy.
"I don't know. Alistair tried to do his demon thing on me. It didn't work and he ran away." Damnit Sammy! Do you honestly think I'm that blind to you. Do you honestly believe that I trust you stopped using your powers.
"Don't lie to me. I don't know where you go at night or what you do, Sam, but don't insult me by blatantly lying to me." I'm not a stupid person, Sammy. I may not be able to do the things you do, but I'm intelligent. Right? That's why I'm needed right? No. I'm just another tool. And a dull one at that. It's not me.
Now
our hands are tied.
The problems lie within.
So we pray for
night to start over again.
(Words are spoken words are broken
down)
"Okay. I won't lie." Another lie. I can feel it. A rot inside. Why does he treat me like dirt? Have I always been this weak? Is it that demon bitch telling him lies? Is she telling him the truth? I don't know anymore. I am holding everyone back. Seals have been broken and it's because I just do not have the strength. Sammy has it. Sammy has all of the power. But, I told the Angels I'd stop him. They'd kill him if I didn't. He told me he stopped, but…
I don't believe him
So
lets make this night
Be our best mistake.
So lets take the
time
To wipe the blood away.
The feeling I get torturing Alistair. It's such a bittersweet moment. I finally have a use. They won't like what happens to me when this is over. But at least I have this one satisfaction. I have one purpose. This son of a bitch is going to feel pain like he never could believe. I've been thinking long and hard on what I can do to him. The possibilities are endless. It feels so good. The pleasure. My just rewards lie in his pain. I want to see him shiver. I want his blood on the floor. I want his entrails on the floor. I want his demonic shit of a soul splattered against a wall. How is it I can even touch these holy instruments?
These holy instruments of torture.
It doesn't feel right. It's too late. I have made my choice. Rather, it has been made for me. It's so much easier to do what others tell me. I don't like having to think about right and wrong anymore. The line is blurred. I'm torturing, killing, a possibly innocent man just to get at this demon. Is this any more right than what Sammy does? What does it matter?
Who cares if Sam is using demon-given powers to suck other demons out of innocent people to save lives?
Who cares if I am torturing innocent people to get information from a demon?
Now
our hands are tied
And our world is caving in.
Now our hands
are tied.
The problems lie within.
So we pray for night to
start over again.
On the ground again. The dizziness is setting in. I can feel the white hot blood rolling down my face. How did it come to this? Where is my savior? Where is my brother? Where is Cas? I am weak. I couldn't even fight against the demon I knew so much about. I had weapons. I have the knowledge of how to exorcise. Why, then, am I on the floor? Why is it all getting dark? Where am I? And why should I care? Sam was right. I am weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. So weak. I can feel it. The darkness. The pain is fading. Why…
Now
our hands are tied
And the problems lie within.
(Words are
spoken words are broken down. Broken down. Broken down.)
"I s it true? Is the apocalypse really my fault?" Look at me. Dean Winchester, the biggest fuck-up in existence.
"Yes." Do I see a hint of regret? Sadness? From an Angel?
"Why did you bring me back?" You should have left me down there to wallow in my shortcomings. You should have kept me in the Pit, let me stay within my tortured and torturing existence down there.
"It's not blame that falls on you Dean, it's fate. You have to stop it." No. No. No. We've already proven I am weak. Worthy of nothing more than being a tool for your dirty work. I'm nothing. I can't do it. I can't. Don't push this on me. I'm not a man. I'm well on my way to becoming a demon, myself. The lust for torture. It felt so good.
"I guess I'm not the man either of our dads thought I would be. I'm not strong enough. Find someone else." Like Sammy. Sam is strong enough. Use him to kill the demon . You used me to torture, use him to kill. It's not me. He's fixed my other problems. He can fix this one.
It's not me.
God I wish it wasn't me.
