A/N - So here's another little tag, but different from the first one that I posted. Two side to every coin as they say!
"Please…I need some help. Please…"
Dean stood for a moment, eyes cast upwards at the dark, brooding sky above him and he waited. Waited for something that he knew deep down would never come.
Help.
In all his years, anything he had ever asked for had been denied him. His mom not to be dead. His brother not to leave him. His dad to treat him like a son. Sam not to die. Not to go to Hell. Sam to fight their way when he was gone.
The list was long.
Sure there were times when others had done things for him. Dad had sold his soul so that he could live. Cas had pulled him from Hell. Still these weren't things that he had asked for directly. These where others' wishes, the intent not to just to save him but to use him for their own ends.
Save Sam. Save the world.
Salvage not salvation.
The silence of the night was his deafening reply.
"Guess not then huh?"
Letting his shoulders drop he turned to go back inside, hesitating at the door to the car. Unsure that he could listen to his brother's cries and the need for some sort of comfort had him opening the door and sliding inside. He reached into the back, pulling his dad's old leather jacket round and up over his shoulders, slumping down into the familiar and comforting interior. The car wrapped itself around him and pulled him from his troubles in this world. He let his eyes fall shut, a wearily exhaled sigh escaping him as he did.
He didn't know how long that he had lain there before the crackle of static pulled him from his repose, as the radio sprang to life and the song started to play.
The tears that had welled in his eyes finally spilled over as he listened, his mind hearing a different voice singing the words to him. A shaky hand reached out to touch the dials as the strains of the Beatles 'Hey Jude' filled the car. "Mom?" Dean's breath shuddered through him. "I can't do this on my own." He sat up, placed his arms on the steering wheel and let his head fall down onto them. "I'm so tired and Sam….if he can't fight what is inside him, how they hell I'm I suppose to?"
The song changed and Dean stifled a noise that was half laugh, half sob as the music played.
The Good Book says it's better to give than to receive,
I do my best to do my part, nothin' in my pockets I got nothin' up my sleeve
I keep my magic in my heart, keep up your spirit, keep up your faith, baby
I am counting on you
You know what you've got to do
Dean sung along softly with the chorus.
"Fight the good fight every moment, every minute every day
Fight the good fight every moment, it's your only way"
He let his head fall back on the seat and closed his eyes. "I get it, Mom. I'll keep fighting….for you. For dad. For Sam."
Just for a second he felt the touch of fingers on his cheek and he leaned into it, felt them brush through his hair and lips ghosting over the skin of his forehead.
"You were not hungry Dean," he froze as his mother's voice almost echoed the horseman's words, "because the thing you crave most is something out with the Horseman's reach. Peace. He couldn't feel or touch what he doesn't understand. Have faith Dean, patience, and you will get what you deserve and desire. You are not alone."
The radio started up again.
All your life you've been waiting for your chance, where you'll fit into the plan
But you're the master of your own destiny, so give and take the best that you can
You think a little more money will buy your soul some rest
You'd better think of something else instead
You're so afraid of being honest with yourself
You'd better take a look inside your head
Nothing is easy, nothing good is free
But I can tell you where to start
Take a look inside your heart
There's an answer in your heart
Fight the good fight every moment, every minute every day
Fight the good fight every moment, it's your only way