[Day 3] FIC: Crashing - SPN
Feb. 3rd, 2009 11:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lyl_devilIt's Day 3 at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
14valentines, and the issue of the day is Women and Health - essay can be found [here]
Day 2 round-up is over [here]
This is a short one today, but it's been languishing on my hard drive for awhile. Enjoy angsty!Dean. :)
~!~!~!~!~
Title: Crashing
Author: Lyl (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lyl_devil)
Rating: PG
Beta:strangevisitor7
Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to the show. I just like to play in their sandbox occasionally.
Words: 474
Summary: Dean’s never had many things that were his, but what he does have, he holds on to with an iron tight grip.
(Sort of )Tag to 4.03 – “In The Beginning”
~!~
Dean’s never had many things that were his, but what he does have, he holds on to with an iron tight grip. The Impala, his favourite gun, his father’s journal. Sam.
His father was on that list too, which made his death that much harder for Dean to handle. Almost as hard as watching Sam walk away from them for Stanford and normal.
Every loss felt like some part of himself had been wrenched free and destroyed, and it only got worse as the years went by and the list got smaller.
More and more solo hunts left Dean without his father in his orbit, throwing him off balance when Dean had only just learned to walk without Sam by his side.
Slowly, things started to reappear on that list, like Sam, and Dean learned to fill in the holes in his soul with what was left over. His brother was next to him like Dean had always wanted, the Impala was purring like a big, beautiful cat, and the exhilaration of the hunt was back. He was saving people and hunting things, and his life was complete.
Until he went to hell. But he got out of that one, even though it did take divine intervention.
But it was that same divine intervention that was causing him problems.
One stupid trip back to 1973, and he was breaking on the inside. The entire trip had been one sucker punch after another, leaving him to wonder if he was the reason the demon had targeted his family in the first place. But it had been his mother - beautiful, hunter Mary, more perfect than he could have imagined – who had brought him lower than even the Yellow Eyed Demon could have dreamed.
Dean holds on to things, be they objects, people or ideas.
In the back of his mind, he was always convinced that his mom would have been proud of him for being a hunter. Saving people and hunting things, like he told Sam.
To be told that the worst thing she can imagine is for him to be a hunter, tore a gaping hole through his chest. Part of his core being – his identity of self – had been ripped away from the inside.
It hurt even more after seeing Deanna Campbell. Dean had always imagined his own mother would have been like that, if they’d been a whole hunting family; helping him and Sam with their homework while loading rock salt rounds on the dinning room table.
Instead, Mary was horrified at the thought of her kids being hunters. One of the core foundations of his self had been demolished, and Dean wasn’t sure he would survive the collapse.
See, Dean holds on to things that are his, as tightly as he can, and the list just got torn in half.
END
14valentines, and the issue of the day is Women and Health - essay can be found [here]Day 2 round-up is over [here]
This is a short one today, but it's been languishing on my hard drive for awhile. Enjoy angsty!Dean. :)
Title: Crashing
Author: Lyl (
lyl_devil)Rating: PG
Beta:
strangevisitor7Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights to the show. I just like to play in their sandbox occasionally.
Words: 474
Summary: Dean’s never had many things that were his, but what he does have, he holds on to with an iron tight grip.
(Sort of )Tag to 4.03 – “In The Beginning”
~!~
Dean’s never had many things that were his, but what he does have, he holds on to with an iron tight grip. The Impala, his favourite gun, his father’s journal. Sam.
His father was on that list too, which made his death that much harder for Dean to handle. Almost as hard as watching Sam walk away from them for Stanford and normal.
Every loss felt like some part of himself had been wrenched free and destroyed, and it only got worse as the years went by and the list got smaller.
More and more solo hunts left Dean without his father in his orbit, throwing him off balance when Dean had only just learned to walk without Sam by his side.
Slowly, things started to reappear on that list, like Sam, and Dean learned to fill in the holes in his soul with what was left over. His brother was next to him like Dean had always wanted, the Impala was purring like a big, beautiful cat, and the exhilaration of the hunt was back. He was saving people and hunting things, and his life was complete.
Until he went to hell. But he got out of that one, even though it did take divine intervention.
But it was that same divine intervention that was causing him problems.
One stupid trip back to 1973, and he was breaking on the inside. The entire trip had been one sucker punch after another, leaving him to wonder if he was the reason the demon had targeted his family in the first place. But it had been his mother - beautiful, hunter Mary, more perfect than he could have imagined – who had brought him lower than even the Yellow Eyed Demon could have dreamed.
Dean holds on to things, be they objects, people or ideas.
In the back of his mind, he was always convinced that his mom would have been proud of him for being a hunter. Saving people and hunting things, like he told Sam.
To be told that the worst thing she can imagine is for him to be a hunter, tore a gaping hole through his chest. Part of his core being – his identity of self – had been ripped away from the inside.
It hurt even more after seeing Deanna Campbell. Dean had always imagined his own mother would have been like that, if they’d been a whole hunting family; helping him and Sam with their homework while loading rock salt rounds on the dinning room table.
Instead, Mary was horrified at the thought of her kids being hunters. One of the core foundations of his self had been demolished, and Dean wasn’t sure he would survive the collapse.
See, Dean holds on to things that are his, as tightly as he can, and the list just got torn in half.
END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-04 03:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-15 03:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 02:59 am (UTC)Well written.
Particularly love the last line.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-15 03:19 am (UTC):D
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-05 03:12 am (UTC)Nice insight into what makes him tick, Dean is very much a hoarder of treasures and I can see Mary's true opinion cracking him like this.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-15 03:25 am (UTC)Thanks. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-14 01:59 am (UTC)Hope you don't mind if I add you as an lj-friend. I can't wait to see what the rest of your fic is like!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-15 03:33 am (UTC)And angsty!Dean is always good for some heart-wrenching fun. :)