A/N: One Shot set at the beginning of Everybody Loves A Clown. (Season 2 - Epi 2). Not sure how I'm feeling about this one... the angst bunny has been hopping on my keyboard again. *sigh*
Disclaimer: Sam, Dean and John are only fictional characters owned by the CW Network and Kripke... sorry Fangirls...
He watched as the flames leapt into the night sky. The sparks jumping from the fire seemed to mimic the fireflies that danced in the grass around him. Under other circumstances he might even find the sight beautiful. Through the glow of the firelight he could see his brother's face, solemn, withdrawn, hints of the injuries he had sustained still showing through the darkness. His expression seemingly at war with itself…grief and guilt battling for possession over their canvas.
He felt as if he should say something, do something, to make this easier for Sam but he couldn't think of anything that would make this better. Nothing was ever going to be the same again, there was no way to sugar coat that fact. His big brother instincts were revving on all cylinders but the weight that was pushing on his chest was just too much to overcome at the moment. He'd be there for Sam… later... tonight he was there for Dad and that was taking everything he had at the moment.
This is what it comes to. This is the end of everything. It is the end for all hunters, eventually. He knew this, had always known it, but somehow it had never been so real before. What was the point of it all anyway? After everything…he had never even gotten to see it through…never got to finish the one job that had ruled his life for the last twenty years. Standing here, watching his father's body burn, he began to question every decision that had led them here.
He squeezed his fist tighter around the gold band that he had taken from his father's hand. Once the fire died he would retrieve a small container of his father's ashes to go with the band. He knew in his heart that his father would want to be with her. So one last job for Dad, he would take that band that had symbolized everything they were together along with that small container of ashes and bury them where they belonged, beside their mother's grave.
His mother had died in flames. Jessica had died in flames. Now he watched the flames take all that was left of his father. It seemed pretty obvious that, one day, the flames would come for him and Sam. He would do everything he could to protect Sammy but he knew better than anyone the odds of both of them getting through this in one piece. The odds of either of them ever having the opportunity to live a normal life again were not worth betting on.
If Dad hadn't been strong enough to see this through then what hope did they have? How was he supposed to finish this? How could he keep going and still protect Sammy? He'd almost died this time, still wasn't exactly sure why he wasn't dead, so what was to say it wouldn't happen again? He couldn't believe he'd made a promise that he knew there was no way to keep. But he had never refused an order from his father.
He was tired, probably more tired than he had ever been in his life, but there would be no sleep for him tonight. He could feel the heat on his skin as the fire continued to burn. It would probably burn all night. That was ok. He didn't have anywhere else to be. He would stand guard over this fire until the last ember went out. It was the least he could do, his final duty.
The wind shifted and the smoke burned at his eyes. He barely felt the sting. It was just one more reason for the tears that slowly made their way down his face. He would normally feel weak and stupid crying like this. It wasn't something he would allow. Except…now… he could see matching streaks on his brother's face and he knew that these tears were not just allowed, they were required. Each tear a silent testimony to everything they had lost that day.
He could see glimpses of his future, their future, in the flames. He knew, deep inside, that the next pyre he built would be for his little brother. He would never voice that feeling aloud but it was undeniable. He only hoped that it wasn't his hand that ended his brother's life. No, he couldn't think about that right now…no matter what he had promised. It wouldn't come to that…couldn't come to that.
He was pretty sure that he had bitten off more than he could chew this time. There were things waiting out there in the darkness that wanted him…them. And, someday, he was going to come across one that was bigger and badder than he was, one he wouldn't be fast enough or smart enough to stop in time. Even if he could, there was always that time bomb ticking inside of Sammy…God, how did Dad expect him to fix this?
He was good. In fact he was damn good at what he did. It wasn't arrogance, just surety in his skills. He had been trained by the best. When each lesson could end in the loss of a life you learned quickly. Dad had taught him everything he could, taught him to fight, to hunt…to kill. But there were lessons that he couldn't teach, like how to move on…Dad had never managed to figure that one out himself.
So now it was just the two of them. He knew that his brother would be looking to him to lead them. This wouldn't stop Sammy's need for revenge, it would only fuel it. Now he would carry the burden for both of them, for Jess and for Mom. It was his job to make sure his brother lived to see that vengeance carried out.
He owed him at least that much didn't he? If it hadn't been for him Sam would have never been sucked back into this life. But, then again… if it hadn't been for him Sam would never have had the chance to talk things out with Dad. He would have had to live with the regret of having walked away in anger and he knew that that would have killed his brother in the end.
He would never have been able to live with himself. Not his Sammy…his little brother who wore his heart on his sleeve. He tried so hard to make everyone believe that he was hard now. He wanted everyone to think that he didn't care, that he didn't feel each new wound to his heart. He could fool a lot of people but he couldn't fool his big brother. Not when he was there to hear him screaming in the night…
He had worried at first that this loss might have been too much for Sam. That losing Dad might just be the final push that sent him over the edge. But, he'd been surprised by his little brother. Not only did Sam not break down, he stepped up. It was Sammy who had taken care of everything when he couldn't. And it was Sammy, who even now, was keeping an eye on him to make sure that he was ok.
As the first rays of sunlight began to break over the horizon he watched the last flame flicker and die. It was time. He walked over to his brother's side, wiping the tears from his face as he went. Sam nodded to him as he approached, mirroring his action and wiping away his own tears. Together, they walked up to the now cooling pyre. They each took a second to sweep a small amount of ash into the container they had prepared.
As they turned to walk back to the car that would always remind him of their father he could feel the weight of his brother's stare.
"Dean…you have to say it. It's the only way you can move on…"
"Yeah… I know. " He stopped and turned back to watch the wind carrying off the remaining ashes. "Dad…I hope Sam's right about all that religion stuff. I hope that you and Mom really are finally together. If you are, tell her we love her ok? Goodbyes are too much like forever so… I'll see you Dad…" He swiped a hand across his eyes, trying and failing to catch the tears before they fell. "Sorry Sammy… it's the best I can do."
