Hello! For those of you who know me, you know this is my first not Glee fic. You also know that this is my first supernatural fic.
For those of you who don't know me, prepare to cry. At least thats what everyone says.
Yes. This is Wincest. Hate all you want but I'm kind of addicted. Hopefully all of you who are reading understand the implications of Wincest so I don't have to explain.
I'm actually super happy with this story. It's based off the song Samson by Regina Spektor(which is posted at the end it italics) so read up.
Kaity*
From just looking at him, most people would say the tears flowing like a river upon his face is all that Dean can physically feel.
Well they're wrong.
He feels...everything. And that's all he feels.
He feels the pain. He feels enraged. He feels inferior. Pathetic, paralyzed, defeated...
Broken.
Dean feels broken the most. He feels it with every fibre of his being; every hair on his head, every muscle buried beneath his skin...
With every beat of his shredded, obliterated, barely-beating heart.
But he feels the passion, the connection, the devotion, the protectiveness, too.
He would think that's what makes it hurt so bad, but it hurts too much to think. Thinking of nothing, leads to think about everything, and everything is gone.
His everything is gone.
He loved him first. Before Bobby, and Jessica, and even Mom and Dad. He knows he did.
He knows that his mom didn't have enough time to really love Sammy right. Not much as he did, as he does. She didn't hold him and sing to him when he cried, she didn't pack his lunches, she didn't watch him learn and grow. He can't fault her for that, he really can't, but Sammy was his from the very instant his Mom told him he was getting a little brother.
He knows that now.
...
He wished he knew that then.
He'll always remember sitting on the impala with Sammy tucked into his side as they watched the stars.
He'll remember how Sam's heart beat against his palm, how his soft breath felt upon his neck and how the calloused skin of his fingers felt twined between his own.
He'll remember realizing how the stars above them were just balls of old light, and that the only star he needed was nuzzling his nose into his jaw and whispering love into his ear.
He'll remember being caught in Sam's orbit, and wanting nothing more than to to kiss his lips and pull him closer.
He will.
Dean broke the first seal.
Sam broke the last one.
They ended it together. And somehow, some way, Dean got to keep his brother. Got to watch as Lucifer was sucked out of his brother and into the cage.
He still doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand how they both returned unscathed, clinging tightly like if they let go the other would disappear.
He never let go. He still won't.
He knows that theres no way they could have held each other up through something that astronomic only to lose.
But they did.
They lost.
All he would have to do is ask and Dean would tear down cities, shoot through masses, swim over oceans, and make the ceiling the floor for Sam.
He'd kill anyone or anything that hurt his brother. Even himself.
But he can't kill this.
And as he shaves the soft brown waves off of his brother's head before it falls out, he's never felt so useless.
He shaves his own head too.
And Sam just smiles, tells him he looks beautiful in that soft, chick flick, 'I love you' voice and kisses him until he grins back.
And maybe for one night Dean feels a little less pathetic.
Dean tried to fix it. He searched everywhere for something to fix the broken part of Sam.
All he found were 'maybe's and 'possibly's.
And he slowly watched as the 'maybe's and 'possibly's broke his brother's body down. As the chemotheraphy ravaged his already broken muscles and skin and strength.
He watched as Sam screamed and cried and vomited up his lunch.
And everytime he sent Sam to bed in the paper-thin sheets with just a piece of Wonderbread in his stomach, Dean would pull him close and sing out of tune in his ear.
And Sam always clung back, because Dean knew he needed this, he knew that no matter how much he wished it wasn't, this could be the last time Sam could hear it.
And one time it was.
Sammy always had that shaggy brown hair.
Even when he was young, and Dean learned how to cut it the way Sam liked it, he always had it flopping in his face.
Dean loved it. Loved running his fingers through it. So similar and yet so different to a woman's.
Sam's hair was his strength.
And and then it was gone. His hair, his strength, everything.
If no one would remember Sam, or what they had; Dean would.
And as he sat on a chair on Bobby's porch and stared at the only home him and his brother-his lover-had ever shared, he figured he could live with that.
For Sam.
You are my sweetest downfall. I loved you first, I loved you first. Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth. I have to go, I have to go. Your hair was long when we first met.
Samson went back to bed, not much hair left on his head. He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed. And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us, and the bible didn't mention us, not even once.
You are my sweetest downfall. I loved you first, I loved you first. Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads, but they're just old light, they're just old light. Your hair was long when we first met.
Samson came to my bed, told me that my hair was red, told me I was beautiful and came into my bed. Oh I cut his hair myself one night, a pair of dull scissors in the yellow light, and he told me that I'd done alright and kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light, and he kissed me 'til the mornin' light.
Samson went back to bed, not much hair left on his head. He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed. Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down, yeah we couldn't destroy a single one, and history books forgot about us, and the bible didn't mention us, not even once.
You are my sweetest downfall......I loved you first.