Chapter 5: Perhaps
- Found the ghoul's hide-out. Back soon -
I love, that you send me these little texts. They seem short and meaningless, but for me they mean everything. You wouldn't have to keep me posted, but you still do it. With little messages. You avoided a "we" to not remind me of the fact, that you have chosen Sam over me. You told me about your success to share it with me. You made sure that I know you're going to be with me soon. Little reminders, which were meant to not let me forget, that I am important. Little regards, which seemed lost in the pool of conversation and words, but I will always find them. Just for me. Just for me you take the time for it.
Of course I couldn't let you anywhere near that ghoul. You could definitely cope with it and you had Sam by your side. But Sam isn't me. And Sam will never be able to protect you as good as I do. So I couldn't possibly lay your safety in his hands. And I couldn't risk it. So I did, what every reasonable man would do, and set you on the wrong track. Of course I am no man and of course you're smarter than this, and you would see through it sooner or later. At the latest when in your hide-out would be no evidence for a ghoul. But until then I would have taken care of it by myself.
Perhaps I went too far. Perhaps I should trust you more, not put it past you so much. But it wasn't about underestimation, I don't put anything past you. I would lay my life in your hands. Only that I will never put you in that position. And you shouldn't put me in this position as well. I wish you would take better care of yourself. I wish your life was as much worth to you as it is to me. Perhaps you wouldn't approve me having the drop on you in this, but perhaps I had to do it to know you were safe. I need you alive and when you don't take me with you to protect you by your side, I have to do it behind your back then. Perhaps I will be able to show you with my eyes. Perhaps all of it. And perhaps you will finally see it then.
"The Great Perhaps was upon us, and we were invincible. The plan may have had faults, but we did not."
(John Green, "Looking for Alaska")
So I went to the real hide-out and made quick work of it. Further explanations are irrelevant, as that ghoul didn't mean a thing. I did it just for you. Meanwhile you and Sam were sneaking around at some graveyard nearby. Too easy. I knew from the beginning that Sam would see through this too obvious false front, admittedly not my best diversionary tactic. It's not even that Sam is smarter than you, Dean, it's just that he lacks that almost unblinded, beautiful trust. You take a hint for the very thing it is, an appeal, just go at it. Sam thinks too much. Sam sees too many doubts, in everything around him. You on the other hand are pure and logical and ready. And I love that.
Until then I didn't know, what had happened there, while I was being busy here, but I was already waiting for your arrival in the shadow of another tree. A pleased smile shaping my face, which nobody could see. And there you were. With your weapons ready and your gazes sharp. You have found the tomb, the real hide-out. You went inside and I followed you, invisibly after you like a predator, only that I am not. Admittedly a little proud of myself, I strutted after your steps unseen and was happy about the eliminated danger. There wouldn't be another fight here. No one would lay a finger on you. You were save. You stopped. In front of you on the concrete floor, afflicted by old leaves, a dead body.
"What the…," you breathed into the darkness. You gaze found first your brother and then me. Well, not really me, you couldn't see me. But my direction. You were looking around. But your face said everything but what I had hoped to see there: relief. Your eyes were searching for more and your gaze revealed unsettledness. Unsettledness! Why? The potential attacker, the monster of the week, the thing you should have and wanted to kill, was already dead. What was better than that? I have taken that heavy burden from you, but you looked little happy about it.
"Sam, what the hell?"
"I… I don't know, Dean"
And I searched. I searched for the mistake I had made. Why did you react like that? Why weren't you relieved? Why did you lay your hands on your head, like you always do, whenever you feel helpless, whenever you don't know what to do? Why did your fist hit the cold, dusty stonewalls and why did you shout "damn it"? I didn't understand the world anymore. I didn't understand you anymore. At least for the moment. Your hand rubbed across your face, while your eyes fixed on the dead body in front of you, with a look that didn't show success, but failure. And I realized: perhaps I missed something.
"I go to seek a Great Perhaps"
(John Green, "Looking for Alaska")