Author's Note: Sorry it has taken me so long, I have just been super busy, I willl try to be better about updating. Maybe reviews would help remind me? Please review I love to get your feedback. P.S. I do not own this poem!
suppernaturalloverja
Goodnight, my angel
Time to close your eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say
I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Wherever you may go
No matter where you are
I never will be far away
Mary hovered above the crib, blond curls falling around her downturned face as she sang down to her baby, her Dean. He clutched her fingers in a tiny baby fist, chubby little fingers barely encasing two of her long slender ones; she stroked the side of his rosy cheek. The restless baby cooed and quieted at the familiar hum that streamed over him from his mother's lips. The singing pulled him into an easy sleep, a peaceful look crossing over his infant features as his little hand lost its solid grip. Mary didn't pull away yet though, the soft hum of the lullaby still reverberating in her chest. She sang this song to him every night, without fail, watching him lull into a peaceful slumber feeling warm and safe, her baby, her Dean.
Goodnight, my angel
Now it's time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay
And like a boat out on the ocean
I'm rocking you to sleep
The water's dark
And deep inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me
Sam was crying again. His four year old features were screwed up unhappily and his chubby fist was half shoved in his mouth as soft whimpers slipped past his fist. He was curled up on his side, knees drawn to his chest and a pile of blankets tangled around him, but he couldn't sleep. Dean crawled up on the bed, melding his torso to his brothers and setting his chin right over the top of Sammy's head. There he sang, the soft familiar tune his mother had sang to him. The sound pushed up from deep in his chest, nearly off pitch, but it was beautiful and heartfelt as he sang to his Sammy. Sam gave a last sniffle before turning in to his brother's chest, he could fell the song as his brother's vocal chords moved up in his neck and his chest pulled in breath after breath, then he finally drifted in to sleep. Dean didn't let go, not yet, he just continued to sing to his brother, his Sammy.
Goodnight, my angel
Now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry
And if you sing this lullabye
Then in your heart
There will always be a part of me
Sam isn't sure why he starts singing that song. He was just resting his head against his brother's too limp hand and all of a sudden his vocal chords began to vibrate. The tune was familiar, he remembered his brother humming it once, and it came easily to him. He wasn't exactly sure who the soothing tune was supposed to comfort, or if his brother could even hear him, but it was familiar, it was safe. As his brother's heart rhythm continued on steadily he continued to hum. He wasn't ready stop yet. So he let his eyelashes fall closed and he hummed himself to sleep, singing to his brother, his Dean, and almost hearing his brother sing along. Almost.
Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabyes go on and on...
They never die
That's how you
And I
Will be
John walked into the hospital room to hear humming. A familiar lullaby that had always been around, first from Mary's lips then from Dean's, and now apparently from Sam. The tune was heartbreaking, not at all a comfort. It reminded him of what he lost, what he was losing. The scare Dean had just caused still lay heavy on his heart, a weight pressing down on his lungs, adding wrinkles to his creased face. They had brought him back, back from the brink of death, but that wasn't permanent. It could happen again. Sam had collapsed from the scare, physically fine but mentally…. Maybe the humming was helping him. It wasn't helping John, at least not at first, but by the time Sam had drifted off the sleep John was beginning to sing along with him. His weary, tear choked voice strangling the pitches but it was still beautiful. John ran a hand over Dean's peaceful features, looking for any sign of movement, looking for a flutter of his eyes, but nothing happened, so he continued to sing. He gripped Sam's arm in a meaty palm and looked down upon his tear stained face, he continued to sing, to his boys, to his Sam and Dean. It didn't fix anything, but he couldn't let go.