Another stand alone ficlet written for the 30 snapshots challenge community on LJ. This is #5 of 30 and the prompt was 'Moon'. Waiting on my request to be approved so I'll keep sharing them here in the meantime. This one gave me a hard time, which is why it's taken so long to get posted. I must've rewritten it a dozen times, modified it twice that and still not sure I'm pleased with the ending.
The usual disclaimer applies: I don't own the car, the boys or anything to do with the Supernatural show. Just taking them for a little joyride through my imagination.
Hope you enjoy the read!
By the Light of the Moon
The fire has burned itself out, a fine dusting of ash now muting the bright white of fresh snow. When they'd first arrived the clearing had seemed so beautifully pure in the early moonlight. Now everything is covered in soot, naked branches of hibernating trees and top heavy pines soiled with its evidence of death.
The smell of burned things is on their clothes, has made a home for itself in their nostrils and clogging up their lungs. Nothing new there, just another fantastic perk of the job. No sarcasm whatsoever, right? Wrong. The only thing worse than the suffocating scent of ash is the dirt and grit that gets into everything. They would find it later caked under fingernails and in the oddest most unexpected places no matter how careful they might be.
Dean's swearing on the inside because everything is covered in the stuff, up to and including his baby who isn't shiny anymore. That means he's going to have to risk washing her in this frigid weather which is never good for the paint. Sam's grouchy because he'd had hope for the person they thought this monster was and had truly wanted to save the poor guy. It never sat well when they failed, and this truly had been a tragic loss.
They're packing up, getting ready to go wash up and try to forget what they'd just done when Sam takes a breath and looks up at the sky. His breathy exhale breaks the silence that had replaced the crackle-pop of the fire. "Jesus, Dean, look up." It's a whisper, which is already strange because they're alone in the middle of the bush and there's no need to be quiet. There's something in his brother's voice, a sort of hushed awe that makes Dean pause and take a good long look over at Sam before looking up too.
There, above them, hanging low and huge in the sky was the full moon. Its coloring a bright white, almost painful to look at, rare for the time of year and beautiful in a way so few things could still be. "I think it's called a Bitter Moon." Sam's still whispering, like he's afraid it'll disappear if he talks too loudly. Dean figures the name fits. If there was a word for the night they were having, 'bitter' would certainly be it. Later they'd deal with the baggage. For now it was enough to sit in the dark surrounded by a cloud of condensation, breath freezing even as it passes their lips and wrapped up in the magic of the sparkling night sky.