Summary: A bittersweet look at the end of Dean Winchester. Drabble-ish.
Possible future fic or whatever you want to make of it.
Own: Nil.Nada.Zip. (-sob-)
Refers briefly to Thelma and Louise, helps if you know how the movie ends. If you don't, skip to the author's note at the end…
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Dean knows he'll die one day. He doesn't know how or when, but he knows he will. Because everyone dies, right? He knows this now. It's ingrained into his DNA. He guesses you'd call it personal experience.
Dad had gone first, sacrificing himself to avenge his beloved wife.
Both sons had taken the hit hard – Sam had run, fast and hard, almost getting himself diced by the grill of a mack truck. But Dean had been there, saved him, done that. Dean was there, left to pick up the pieces of his broken baby brother and put them back together yet again.
He had been there for Sam, and he hoped it had been enough.
Dean, on the other hand, had held himself firm, allowing his only ritual of grievance to take place.
One tear. That's all he let through. When his mother died, that was when his father said Just one tear. We don't cry; we have to be strong, Dean. We have to be strong for mom and Sammy.
And then, at four years old, he shed one tear. This was the beginning of the man that became Dean Winchester.
It was the last time he 'cried' for twenty-three years.
So when their father departed for the final time, and Sam was cradled in his arms for the second time in his life, Dean let one tear bead and trickle. One single drop of raw Dean Winchester emotion.
It was the last time he 'cried' for three years.
Sam had gone second, sacrificing himself to save his brother.
And here that brother stood, at Sam's final resting place, allowing that solitary consecrated tear to fall.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The thought of his .45 quiescent in the trunk of the impala is oh-so-inviting, and for a split second, he moves to retrieve it. But he stops.
Dean knows. He knows one day he'll wear himself out, just self destruct. Keep fighting and fighting until there are no more battles to wage.
Maybe, at the end of a hunt, his fingers may just accidentally slip on the trigger of the revolver. Give the surrounding area a new motif of red?
Or maybe he'll just get too tired. As always, get hold of a shabby no-star pot-hole room in the middle of backwards nowhere USA. This time he may possibly go to sleep, – something that comes so rare these days – and never wake up. Let the motel owner deal with something more than stained sheets and overdue fees.
A thought occurs. What will happen to his baby? The one last thing on the face of the earth whose motor still runs faithful. He wouldn't want anyone else to have her, to touch her, ever. He thinks maybe this is a selfish philosophy, but he doesn't care. Life has been selfish towards him, so maybe he should just get in on the action; you know, see what all the fuss is about?
No. No one else would ever set ass in his loyal black beast.
Maybe they could simply go together? The whole Thelma and Louise swan-dive feat.
Although he'll never admit he's seen that movie.
Maybe, just maybe, he might find someone and slow down, enough for his body to catch up to his brain, realise how tired he in fact is. A nice gentle town where nothing goes bumphissroar in the night.
He severely doubts that this will ever happen.
A curiously logical thought pushes through the swarm to the front of his mind and presents its case.
When he goes, who'll be there to salt and burn his bones? There won't be anyone, he knows this, and feels strangely pissed that it'll just be another affair he'll have to deal with that he shouldn't have to.
So yeah, he thinks that maybe the whole going out in a blaze of glory T&L moment suits him.
Although he'll never admit he's seen that movie.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dean knows he'll wear himself out one day, self destruct – one way or another. But not today. Mom and Dad and Sammy will have to wait a little longer before they meet him at the pearly gates in the sky.
He's not ready to go, not just yet. But they'll wait for him until he's done. Until he's ready.
He knows they will.
"See ya 'round, Sam." He whispers and heads back to his car.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: In short, Thelma and Louise realise they can't escape the lives they've made for themselves (etc etc) and drive off a cliff.
Anyway, this sounded a lot better in my head at 3 o'clock in the morn…but what can you do?