Okay guys, this is my first post on here! I have been writing on and off for a few years now, but so far have never posted anything on here till now! :D I have so many fics I would like to share with you all, trouble is most of them are a bit old and as such need dusting off and polishing up a bit so to speak :P But keep a weather eye on the horizon because I am determined to get them out there! :D So without further ado i'll leave you with this piece that came about after watching the latest episode of Supernatural last night. I am very afraid for Bobby and I hope his fate won't be what im dreading it will be.
Characters belong to Eric Kripke and his amazing team :) Hope you like it!
HE'S BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH.
He stood and watched as they worked on Bobby – a fellow hunter, a friend, a surrogate father, someone who meant so much to him and to whom he had sworn to never give up. They had saved each other from giving up, actually. He was vaguely aware of someone pushing past him. A million scattered thoughts and memories engulfed him, like little mini movies inside his head they played out. A million moments from the smallest thing – a worried glance, a wise shaking of the head, an amused "idjit", a well deserved slap to the back of his head, to the biggest of sacrifices - a prominent one being bobby stabbing his own leg and condemning himself to a wheelchair for what could have been the rest of his life rather than kill Dean, all rushed through his mind at such incredible speed that he had difficulty keeping up. This man had done so much for him, had looked out for him and taken care of him for years, even when Dean himself would never had admitted that he needed it, craved it, was desperate for it. But Bobby knew. He had always known. There was comfort to be found in his presence, as if, with him around nothing bad would happen. He had been part of Dean's life for so long, that he didn't think he could survive losing him. Not him too, not Bobby, not after he had lost everyone else that mattered to him.
He didn't feel the pain as his knees crashed to the ground. He wasn't aware of Sam kneeling hastily in front of him. He didn't feel the pain as he clenched his hands into fists, digging his fingernails into his palms so deep that he drew blood. He didn't register that he was swaying. He didn't feel Sam gripping his shoulders, steadying him. He didn't see Sam's worried eyes looking into his, a thousand different emotions displayed there. He didn't hear Sam's soothing words. A tidal wave of emotion surged through him. It bubbled up and threatened to force its way out. 'No no no no' he thought. 'I can't do this, I can't let myself do this. I have to be strong. Always have to be strong'. But it came up through him so fast he couldn't stop it. A primal scream of tortured agony exploded from his body, a sound so utterly raw and painful and terrible and angry that it shook Sam to his very core. Dean knew he was in trouble when his eyes began to burn and his vision blurred, and his anguished cry gave way to actual tears that spilled down his face and dripped onto the tile floor. He bowed his head and covered his face with his hands in a futile attempt to hide his weakness not only from Sam but from the strangers all around him that were watching his mini-breakdown with morbid fascination. He made an effort to stop the seemingly never-ending flow of tears, he couldn't break down like this, he couldn't, and oh my god did he just start sobbing? It was then that he felt himself falling forward, only to be caught by Sam, who wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him close, who was in such a state by now couldn't understand the comforting words Sam was whispering in his ear, nor did he want to listen. He felt the odd sensation of wetness on his ear, and it was then that he realized that Sam was crying too. They stayed that way, holding each other, kneeling on the freezing cold tile floor for what seemed like forever.
After what seemed like forever but was in fact only a couple of minutes, Sam struggled to get his breathing under control, and pulling away from Dean realized that at some point Dean had already stopped crying, and was just staring, at nothing seemingly. He knew he had to get up, they had to get to Bobby, had to see if he was ok, was he even still alive? He got no response when he said Dean's name. He looked into Dean's eyes, trying to catch his gaze, and was shocked at what he saw in them. He understood the pain, the fear, the anger, the frustration, the helplessness. He understood because he felt it too, and knew from experience that they were just default emotions for people who were worried for their loved ones. What scared him though, was the complete and utter emptiness in them. It was like Dean had checked out, and it was only a shell of what this man used to be kneeling in front of him. He said Dean's name again, louder and more urgent this time, and this time he must have got through as he watched Dean slowly lift his head to meet his gaze.
"Dean, the doctor's coming."
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