"Barton Hollow"
A Supernatural Fanfic
**** Hey guys, I thought I'd do another songfic for the boys of Supernatural since I love them so much. But this one's a bit more serious since it's my take on the final moments of Season 3's "No Rest For The Wicked" episode. I'm not a Dean! girl but I did cry at the end of Season 3 since we saw Hurt! Sam. Anyways, I don't own the Winchesters since Eric Kripke created them. The song 'Barton Hollow' belongs to the most awesome country band I've ever heard, The Civil Wars! Enjoy this little songfic, if you can, and I don't blame you if you cried while reading. Happy, sort of, reading!
Dean looked at the grandfather clock and knew that his time on Earth would come to an end soon. He knew that Bella would be there waiting for him since she had also made a wrong choice in making a deal for a stupid reason. He, on the other hand, chose to do this for all the right reasons. He just couldn't lose Sam and if selling is soul would bring him back, then he'd do it. And he did. A familiar song began to play on the radio. He chose to listen to the music on the radio for once in his life.
"I'm a dead man walking here
But that's the least of all my fears
Ooh, underneath the water"
There was a part of him that knew how relevant this song was to him. He sat across from where the sound system was placed and continued to listen to this particular song because, by the time it was finished. He'd be a dead man.
"It's not Alabama clay
That gives my trembling hands away
Please forgive me father"
Forgiveness. The very same word had been registered as something he could never comprehend nor, if he did, would receive. He had done so many wrong deeds in his life, he wouldn't know where to begin if he ever went to make confession at a Church. Sam was with him, only he was as silent as a graveyard. But the thought of losing his older brother bothered him since he was the only blood family he had left. What would he do when Dean's gone? How would he, or would he, find the strength to keep going?
"Dean? Aren't you...afraid? Afraid of dying?" Sam had been pacing the room since there was nothing he or Dean could do to stop this from happening. The rules of the deal were pretty straightforward. You try to find a way out and Sam drops dead.
"I may not look it Sammy, but on the inside I'm scared shitless. I don't want to die, Sam. I really don't but... there's no other way to get me out of this little dilemma." Sam's eyebrows furrowed at the response.
"'Little'? Dean, this isn't a little dilemma, it's a big mess we're dealing with here. You're gonna die within the next five minutes and... I don't want you to go. You're my big brother Dean and you're the only family that I've got left." Dean turned his head slightly to look at the tears that were forming in Sam's eyes.
"Damn it, Sam, I didn't want it to end like this. even when I'm gone, you still have Bobby to look out for you." Sam shook his head. 'What're you shaking your head for? You know that I'm right."
"It's just not the same. You and I both know that Bobby's like a father to us, yes, but you're the only blood relative I have left in this world." He really didn't want his last few moments of his life to end in an awkward way or in a chick-flick moment. Those were two things he didn't like and would never condone. But, there were tears filling up his eyes and he saw the hurt look on Sam's face. This really did change up the plan on how he would spend his last few moments.
"Sam, I may be dying but that doesn't mean you shouldn't quit being a Hunter because of me. Bobby's gonna need your help and you might as well stay with him for a little while. I know he won't mind it. But just... don't stop fighting. There are some evil bastards out there that need to have their asses kicked so you could take names. Promise me that you won't let me down. Nor the fact that you won't stop fighting. Please, Sammy?"
"Ain't going back to Barton Hollow
Devil gonna follow me e'er I go
Won't do me no good washing in the river
Can't no preacher man save my soul"
If Dean would ever cross paths with a Preacher or a Priest, he often pondered on the question: Would they be able to save my soul? He turned his attention back to the radio and continued to listen to the song that was playing. The one that had a connection with his problem. Sam looked at the radio as tears already began to fall down his face. Dean's boots began to stomp to the beat since he already took a liking to the song.
"Did that full moon force my hand?
Or that un marked hundred grand?
Ooh, underneath the water
Please forgive me father
Miles and miles in my bare feet
Still can't lay me down to sleep
If I die before I wake
I know the Lord my soul won't take"
"How can you be enjoying music when you damn well know that the hellhounds will come looking for you soon?"
"Sam, you clearly don't know good music when you hear it. Who sings this? It's kinda' catchy." There was that stupid smirk that Sam had seen on Dean's face countless times.
"The Civil Wars, why do you want to know, Dean?" Because he had seen that dumb look on his face, he was expecting some sort of a dumb response to come from him. Sam stood and awaited the aforementioned response.
"If I ever get back or somehow find a way to get out, like Dad did, I'm totally going to get a copy of that track. It's awesome."
"I'm a dead man walking
I'm a dead man walking
Keep walking and running and running for miles
Keep walking and running and running for miles
Keep walking and running and running for miles"
And there it was. The answer that he had awaited. But, to his surprise, there was a shred of hope in it. It's like Dean knew that he would try to find a way out of Hell just as their father had done when they were fighting the yellow-eyed demon for the last time. That didn't suggest that when he was in Hell that Sam would open up the gates again. No way.
"Ain't going back to Barton Hollow
Devil gonna follow me e'er I go
Won't do me no good washing in the river
Can't no preacher man save my soul"
The clock struck twelve. Midnight. Sam and Dean exchanged one last glance before they began to hear the howling of the hellhounds that had come for Dean. Sam didn't let tears fall down his face, no, he broke out into a good cry. Dean tried to hold back tears for the sake of being brave and not wanting to look weak. But only let one teardrop fall down his face as the dogs tried to get through the barrier that he and Sam had placed. He knew that there was no way to stop them from coming. He might as well give them what they want. Dean Winchester: Righteous hunter and the man that defined Badassery. He began to dust off some of the rock salt blocking the entry for the dogs.
"Dean!" Sam said, choking on a sob. With a smile on his face, Dean merely turned to look at his brother one last time and say,
"Take care, Sammy."
That was it. The dogs had come for Dean Winchester.