TITLE: Brittle Hope
AUTHOR: Pedellea
E-MAIL:
DATE: April 18, 2007
RATING: G or K
SUMMARY: Hope always gets crushed. But it always somehow remains. Post Houses of the Holy.
SPOILERS: Hunted, Houses of the Holy
DISCLAIMER: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers Television. Sadly not me.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I scribbled down a very rough version of this vignette-of-sorts two months ago, intending it as something to help my mind tie up some loose ends after watching "Houses of the Holy". But then I decided to fix it up and show it to the world instead. I hope you enjoy. Feedback most definitely welcome!

BRITTLE HOPE
By Pedellea

He thought he could finally cede control to a higher being, because honestly, it was all just too much for him to handle. He could keep cool on the outside, keep doing his job, keep pretending that his special chosen status with the Demon would somehow all blow over and go away.

But inside, he burned.

It was one of those never-dying, ever-burning flames that threatened to consume his certainty and his mind, but taunted him by keeping him just barely alive with the agonizing thought of whether he would become a true Demon child or not.

Flames took his mother and his Jessica. But, unmercifully, these mind-flames refused to take him.

Then, in the midst of these dark contemplations, the angel appeared, and Sam gained hope again. Maybe, just maybe, something bigger would protect him from the injustice he seemed destined to be consumed by. But most of all, the angel could protect Dean from having to make that hard choice, a thing that Sam did not have power to take away, but wanted so desperately to do so.

But just as Sam allowed the hope to sink in, it was snuffed out.

Gregory was no angel. He was just a misguided man.

Much like himself.

The misguided man disappeared in the most beautiful and sacred of ways, and Sam wishes he hadn't been frozen to the ground, unable to leave with him to a better place. There was nothing more he wanted than for all of this chaos and soul-draining weariness to end.

That damned darkness always found a way to snatch him back to the unbearable flames that scorched his mind.

But there was always one other thing.

Dean would be there, and he would say the exact words needed to instil that glimmer of hope in Sam again. It's never much, and it's often resisted, but in the end, the brittle hope somehow always remained.

Brittle hope. It's all that Sam has ever had.

So very small.

So frustratingly weak.

So damned fragile.

But it - and Dean - have sustained him through nearly 24 years of his life.

So maybe that's all he'll ever need.

THE END

Please do let me know what you think about it. I'm always on the look out for ways to improve my craft. Thanks!