Disclaimers: "Supernatural"
doesn't belong to me, but to the awesome Mr. Kripke ♥ Point is, I
love the man too much to ever steal anything from him. XD
Spoilers:
all the way through "Croatoan".
Notes: Based
upon and inspired by Jack Johnson's song, "Breakdown"
(which of course belongs to him... duh)
Warnings:
Chick-flick moment ahead! If you're disturbed by those as much as me
and Dean are, do not read this. (and I tried to avoid it, but there
was just no way out of it this time sighs)
---
(further note: I reread this, but due to the hour -5.30am over here-, I make no guarantees. Please excuse any errors. ;-) )
---
Breakdown
I
hope this old train breaks down
then I could take a walk
around
and, see what there is to see
time is just a melody
"I don't know, man. I just think maybe we oughta... go to Grand Canyon."
Dean's never seen the Grand Canyon before,
and he meant it, what he said to Sam, about taking a break and go
there. But the hunt goes on, steadily fast like a train, and for the
first time, Dean wishes they would slow down, and give themselves the
time to open their eyes onto the light instead of just exploring
darkness.
For the first time, Dean realizes the hunt's swallowing
them whole, and he can let it take him, but he's not going to let it
have Sam, as well.
With all the people in the
street
walking fast as their feet can take them
I just roll
through town
And though my window's got a view
Well the frame
I'm looking through
seems to have no concern for now
Sometimes
he feels like a bystander. Drifting, watching people laugh and cry
and generally live as if it doesn't concern him. A little boy's
playing with his dog in the street. There was a time when the sight
would have him smiling, but now he can't push past the memory of Sam
asking for a puppy, and the guilt in his father's eyes as he tries to
explain that they aren't "normal" enough to have one.
Dean
wishes he could detach himself from the pain like he's detached
himself from everything else.
I need this
old train to
break down
oh please just
let me please break down
Dean wishes he could stop. Pull the Impala over, fall to his knees in soft grass and retch. He wishes he could double over, and spew out everything he has inside. He wishes he could break down. He wishes Sam could see it, and tell him it's okay.
Well this engine
screams out loud
Centipede gonna crawl westbound
so I dont even
make a sound
Because its gunna sting me when I leave this
town
The Impala roars as he turns the key. They're leaving yet another town behind. The place holds no meaning to Dean, and he wishes it was the Grand Canyon that he's seeing in the rearview mirror, instead of nameless buildings and faceless strangers. He wants to scream, but he knows he can't, and so he turns up the radio and bits down on his lip as he drives.
And all the people
in the street
that I'll never get to meet
if these tracks don't
bend somehow
and I got no time
that I got to get to
where I
don't need to be
Sam thinks there are few things in the
world that his ever-charming brother enjoys more than a one-night
stand with a gorgeous woman. But sometimes Dean has wished he could
stay more, and get to know them better. Sometimes he would have liked
to know what Amy's favorite color is, or which ice cream flavor makes
Kathy's taste buds sing. He has been curious about what makes Helena
cry and puts a smile on Jane's face.
Sometimes Dean has wished he
would be driving away with one hand out of the window, waving, while
a friend waves back.
But the hunt goes on, and he can't waste
time in places where he isn't needed anymore. So the Impala keeps
hitting the road, time after time, following tracks that will never
bend.
I want to break on down
but I can't stop now
let
me break on down
Often, Dean stays awake at night, and
watches Sam sleep. He doesn't think his brother's aware of how
defenseless he looks while sleeping, and Dean wishes he could let his
own defenses crumble a little. Sam twitches in his sleep, mumbling
broken words that bare his soul. Dean remembers every one of them,
and they burn like fire in his memory. He knows the sounds coming
from Sam's lips would be far less anguished if it wasn't for him, and
he wishes he could break something; smash a mirror with his fist,
hoping his broken reflection would shatter both his guilt and Sam's
pain.
Dean knows he's already broken, but he wonders whether he's
broken enough to deserve fixing.
But you can't stop
nothing
if you got no control
of the thoughts in your mind
that
you kept and you know
"You're tailspinning, man! And you refuse to talk about it, and you won't let me help you!"
Dean knows Sam is right. He can feel himself falling further and further down. He's tried to stop the fall, but the thoughts and emotions have been swirling inside of him for months, tightly bound to his chest. He can't let them go, but he can't control them, either, and he wonders how long he has left before the fall ends and he comes crashing down.
you don't
know nothing
but you don't need to know
the wisdom's in the
trees
not the glass windows
He has tried to keep Sam
behind the glass, as sheltered as he could. But things have spun out
of his control, and before Dean knew it, it wasn't up to him anymore
and everything he's ever known has proven useless.
Sometimes,
ignorance's better than knowledge. But when he finally told Sam what
was his right to know, the weight of the secret too heavy for him to
carry any further, and his brother looked at him like he would a
betrayer, Dean realized that he's made another mistake, and ignorance
in this case should never have existed.
He wonders whether he'll
ever stop screwing up.
You can't stop wishing
If you
don't let go
of the things that you find
and you lose, and you
know
you keep on rolling
put the moment on hold
the frame's
too bright
so put the blinds down low
Dean has stopped
wishing a long time ago. He's learned to let go of every dream that
might somehow pop up into his head. He would crush it like a beetle,
feeling it crack under his stomping foot, its life put down before it
can crawl too deep into his soul.
Sam's smile has always been
bright with dreams he would refuse to let go of like his older
brother does. They're faded now, but they're still there. So when he
first pulled the blinds down low to protect himself from the
brightness of Sam's wishes, Dean left a crack open, to ensure that
they'd always be there. Now he peers through it, and tries to make
sure Sam never lets go.
I need this
old train to break
down
oh please just
let me please break down
Dean
doesn't know how it happens. One minute he's sitting at the table
leafing through his Dad's journal, the next he's kneeling on the
sickly green motel floor, his body still and rigid with pain, his jaw
clenched.
He's breaking down, and he doesn't know how to stop it.
oh please just
let me please break down
I want to
break on down
but I can't stop now
Sam forgets about
every ounce of rage he could still be feeling towards Dean the moment
he steps through the door and sees him unmoving on the floor, his
body as taut as he's about to explode.
It takes Sam a look to
know that's exactly what is about to happen, and two long strides to
be kneeling in front of his brother.
Dean doesn't say anything. A
single tear rolls down his cheek, and Sam's pretty sure he's not
entirely aware of it. He's always thought nothing would hurt more
than Dean's broken whisper of his name that day after Angela, when he
had stopped the car and bared his soul; or than witnessing Dean's raw
pain as the horrid weight of their father's bargain settled fully on
his shoulders after the crossroad.
He had been wrong. This hurts
even worse, this silent breakdown. Because Dean explodes quietly,
without making a sound, and when Sam reaches out and pulls him
forcefully into his arms, the silence grows heavier, enveloping them
both.
Dean is so tense it feels like holding a board. When his
arms come up and cling to his biceps, Sam breaks a little.
"I'm sorry."
It comes out choked, soft and fragile as a dry leaf. But Sam hears it, hears every single thing Dean is sorry for in those three words, and he tightens his hold a little.
"It's okay."
And he means it. About everything. It's okay that Dean hasn't told him the secret sooner. It's okay that they lead this life. It's okay that he's not in Stanford. It's okay that it's just the two of them, as long as they have each other.
It's okay to break down.
.FIN.
