Author's Notes: So, this isn't the first Supernatural story I've written, but it is the first I've posted on this site. I figured I'd post one of my shorter stories first and ease my way in :) The italicized parts are from Evanescence's song "Hello". I hope you all enjoy, and any review is welcome! Thanks!
What If?
Playground school bell rings, again
Rain clouds come to play, again
The ten year-old boy looks out towards his brother, a look of longing on his face.
Nostalgia is present in every movement, deep sadness peering out of young green eyes.
He sees the mop of brown hair moving in the wind, the six year old body attached to it swinging gleefully; naïve innocence emanating from a bright smile and joy radiating from the hazel eyes.
Despite the bright sunlight of the day, the edges of his mind thrust darkness and despair into his psyche. He wonders what Mom would do, if she were here. He wonders if the smile on Sammy's face would be brighter, not knowing the dangers of life. Not walking the path of fire and brimstone, of twisted highways and deafening shrieks. He wonders if he himself would be different. If he would play with the others, laughing, carefree. He wonders, if Mom were here, would he be sitting on the sideline, living his life through his brother, watching him grow, hoping to give him all that he has lost, all that he will never have. He wonders, if Mom were here, if he would be a kid too.
Has no one told you she's not breathing ?
His fruitless wondering is quickly replaced with the hard logic that is found in those far older than he. Mom's not coming back. It doesn't matter how hard he wishes (wishes, not prays, not anymore, not since the Angels left his family alone in the dark and the flame). It doesn't matter that sometimes (only sometimes and never for long) he wants to have the life Sammy has; he wants to be protected. It doesn't matter, not anymore.
Hello, I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to...Hello...
He seals his childhood (all four years, not long enough, never long enough) away. He becomes the big brother, mother, father, protector, guardian. He keeps his thoughts to himself, the mask that would forever be in place already hardening the lines, defining the features of his young face into that of the adult, (adult so soon, too soon).
If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
He sees his brother surrounded by the fire (took his mom, took Sammy's girl, but not Sammy, won't ever let it take him). He drags him from the room, his brother's screams echoing in his mind, night after night, nightmare after nightmare (won't let Sammy see). He'll pretend that he's awake most nights looking out for Sammy, protecting him from his dreams, when really, he just can't face his own. He wishes (wishes, never prays) that he'll wake up in some motel room, in some town, somewhere alone. He'll wake up, and this will be a dream, and Sammy will be safe with his college buddies and his straight A's. Safe from the fire, safe from the darkness. Safe from the warping stench of burning flesh and the fear of seeing a beautiful woman, blonde hair bright, white nightgown stained red, above his head.
Don't try to fix me
I'm not broken
Sometimes Sammy sees. He sees his brother's pain, but still he can't begin to understand (don't want him too, locked the feelings away so no one knows). When Sam goes to help he shrugs him off a muttered "Bitch" or stumbled "No chick-flick moments, dude" making away across his lips, vainly attempting to cover up the "Help me" that always wants to escape.
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide...
Don't cry...
He'll cover up his pain, shield his brother from his sadness, if only to give him the chance to live without worry. But now, after her, after his love (the one his brother left him for, the one who caused him so much pain) after she disappeared into the fire, it's hard. It's hard to see the anguish marring his, once so innocent, brother's features. It's hard not to sit down and whisper "I understand". It's so god-damned hard to stop the tears from falling, let himself escape from the cage he's locked himself into, be free of the constricting hurt that he runs from every day of his fucked-up life. (He's tired, God he's tired.)
Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello, I'm still here, all that's left
Of yesterday...
When he sees his Dad again, the man who is supposed to protect them, protect him (not his fault though, he didn't bring the fire, didn't cause the screaming, he did the best he could), he thinks that maybe he can relax, if only a little. But then, there's yellow eyes and spiteful words (don't believe him Sammy, not your fault) and then he says it. He shows Sammy the mask that big brother's been hiding behind. Shows the world how truly broken the unbreakable Dean Winchester is.
No matter how hard he tries, he can't bring himself to deny the words that come out of his Dad's (not his, not Dad's, it's a demon, not Dad) grinning mouth. He can't utter anything beyond a plea for help as he feels his body being ripped apart from the inside, shredded like his soul. He can't stop the tears in his eyes and the despair in his voice.
When he wakes up, given only a minutes rest before Dad, before (time of death, time of death, he can't be, not him) he realizes that he's the last person left of her. He comprehends that he's the last one standing of the time before the fire, of the time where there were Christmas trees in December and birthday cakes on those special (not anymore) days. He wishes (wishes, not prays) that the warm embrace of the beautiful blonde hair and flowing white nightgown could be here for him, for Sammy.
He wonders as he looks into the eyes of his broken brother, broken like him now, if she could make the smile come back to Sammy's face, the joy emanate from the smile that's no longer there. He wonders if Sammy would be happy, carefree. He wonders if he would still be the big brother/mother/father/protector/guardian that he is now. He wonders if he would just be.