Dean slammed the door to the Impala harder than necessary, but it couldn't be helped. He glanced back at the old girl, giving a silent apology for his roughness then opened the back door. He blindly reached inside and felt around until he felt something hard and unforgiving under his fingers. Grabbing a tight hold on the dark leather case, he removed it from the car's interior and made sure to close the back door more gently this time. Before walking away, he moved back towards the driver's window and ducked to look at the passenger still silently staring, but unseeing.
"Are you sure about this Sammy? You can still come, ya know."
Sam turned towards him, a smile that was both sad yet reassuring gracing his features. "I'm sure Dean. You need to do this for you. When I think enough time has passed, I'll come check on you."
Dean grunted, which Sam knew was both acknowledgement and silent thanks. It had taken him longer than it should have to convince Dean that this needed to be done. Dean had always been stubborn and stoic, his emotions always kept under lock and key. But even Sam knew that this situation had become Dean's breaking point, no matter how he had tried to act like he wasn't dying inside. Sam knew. For the last week Dean had been a walking mass of sorrow and regret, and it broke Sam's heart to see his brother so utterly destroyed . After a night of stern shouting and endless tears, he had finally convinced Dean that this had to be done, but allowed him to choose the way he was most comfortable going about it. As he watched Dean walk away from the Impala into a grassy field nearby, still clutching that case in his hand, he closed his eyes and hoped that making Dean face this wouldn't do more harm than good.
As Dean continued to walk through the slightly overgrown grass, he heard the beginnings of crickets chirping nearby along with the occasional rustling of leaves dancing in the cold wind blowing around him causing a shiver to run up his spine. The sun was almost gone beneath the horizon but still left enough light to allow Dean to find his way in the near-dark. He walked on, careful of tall weeds that occasionally brushed his shins and watching for any fallen limbs that may cause him to stumble. The dark case still clutched in his hand swayed gently with the rhythm of his steps, neither helping or hindering his progress. He looked in the distance, eyes searching the landscape for the silent marker that signaled that he was heading in the right direction. It was his first time coming out here, and he felt like shit for dragging his feet about it. He knew he should have come sooner, but he just couldn't. And now here he was, heart pounding in his chest from both fear and shame. It had been his brother who had finally gotten through to him, the words still ringing in his ears.
You have to do this Dean...you'll never forgive yourself if you don't…
I'll never forgive myself anyway Sam….
Dean sighed and continued walking, his goal now in plain sight just ahead. He was almost there, every step bringing him closer to the abyss of guilt that constantly threatened to swallow him whole. This entire thing was his fault, no matter what anyone had said to try and convince him choices brought this outcome. He knew Sam was just trying to help him cope with the consequences of his actions, but couldn't he see that he wanted to pay his penance in peace, in his own way? It didn't matter anymore. He was here, and he promised Sam that he would try.
As he reached a small clearing he saw the cause of his pain nestled near a small bush that seemed to explode with tiny blue blossoms, their vibrant color now muted in the twilight. Dean couldn't help the small smile that tugged one corner of his mouth, thinking to himself that those flowers matched perfectly with a particular shade of blue that he knew so well. But he shook those thoughts from his head, knowing that train of thought would distract him from what he needed to do.
He stopped a few feet away from the stone and just stared at it, its implications causing the knot in his stomach to tighten painfully and the weight on shoulders to become increasingly heavier. Dean finally decided against fighting it and dropped to the ground on his knees, the sudden jolt keeping him grounded enough to prevent him from falling apart again prematurely, although just barely. He situated himself more comfortably, crossing his legs in front of him as he reached for case next to him. With shaking fingers he flipped open the latches and reached inside, pulling out one of the few possessions he had that had initially started out as a guilty pleasure before turning into the only way he could voice himself without feeling self-conscious.
A well worn, lovingly tended 12 string guitar.
He settled it on his lap and plucked a few strings, testing the tuning and adjusting it when necessary. The light notes were carried away on the soft breeze and disappeared in the cool evening sky. The sun was gone now, replaced by its silver counterpart now lighting up the clearing with a gentle glow. Dean continued plucking, strumming, and adjusting until each of the notes sang in harmony. He knew he was stalling.
He stared again at the carved rock, willing the words in his mind and his heart to finally break free. Dean opened his mouth to speak several times, but wasn't surprised at the silence that still prevailed. The wetness of his face from tears he hadn't realized he's shed was the final push he needed to get it all out. Dean carefully placed his fingers in the right positions and began to softly strum, feeling the music pour out of him and caused his eyes to cloud even more. He shut them tightly and began to softly sing the words that had been too difficult for him to say.
I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you….
Dean choked back sobs and he continued to sing, stumbling on finding the right cords. But now that he was finally getting everything out, he didn't dare stop now.
I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear
I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
The reason for all that I do
And the reason is you…..
Dean continued to play until his shoulders hurt and his fingers were numb, both from the cold and the harsh strings pressed underneath them. He don't know how long he sat there, tears falling in harmony with each note he pulled from his soul. Finally his emotions were too overwhelming and he stopped playing altogether. Dean cried until his chest ached and he couldn't breathe. "I'm sorry…" he managed to whisper. "I'm so so sorry…" There wasn't an answer to his mournful words, not that he expected one.
Once the worst of it was over he began to calm down, feeling wrung out and suddenly exhausted. He hadn't heard the footsteps approaching behind him, but saw a dark shadow fall over him instead followed by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looks up and sees his brother bathed in the soft moonlight.
"It's time to go Dean." he says gently.
Dean nods and gets to his feet with the help of his brother. Sam bends back down to replace Dean's guitar back into its nesting place and secure the lid once again. Grabbing it, it straightened back up and faces his brother. "Are you going to be alright?" he asks. He can still see the sorrow written on Dean's face, but knows that it's going to take much much longer for that to disappear entirely. It didn't matter. Sam would be there for him, no matter how long it took.
"I will be Sammy." Dean answered with a sniff and a hiccup. "It will just take some time."
"Did you say everything you needed to?"
Dean focused of the silent stone one last time. "Yeah." he answered quietly. "I think I did."
"Good." He wrapped an arm around his brother and squeezed gently as he led him back towards the waiting Impala. As he walked away, the shadow that he had cast over the stone retreated, causing the engraving to shine in the moonlight.
Castiel
Our Friend
Our Brother
My Angel
