Important: I recommend you read this story very slowly and carefully because a lot of the text has double meaning and symbolism.
Summary: The Winchesters face their darkest hours.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I do own the poems at the beginning of each chapter cause I wrote them, if you take one then please credit this story.
Please don't let it rain today,
Allow me that one luxury.
Oh please don't let the rain drops fall,
a single day without the tears.
Spare me from the moist cold
and save me from the droplets.
Allow me that one luxury.
Don't make the sorrow hit my skin
and absorb into my soul.
Oh please I'm simply begging you,
just please, don't let them go.
Dean leaned over the stone, possessive in his sorrow. It hit him hard every now and then although it had happened nearly eight years ago.
Eight years. Eight lifetimes. Eight hearts. Eight souls.
The pain never went away really, it remained throbbing at his chest, pounding it's beat against an already beaten frame.
He looked down, reading the words etched into the stone, reading the words that were marked in his mind, reading his own death off of the granite slab.
Beloved Son and Brother.
We were always proud
Dean looked away, the pain increasing in his chest 'til it was unbearable. He looked into the sky; the clouds always seemed to blow in when Dean's sorrow was at its peak. Then they'd drop their load just as Dean would drop his, preparing for another year of emotional wear and tear before dropping the load again- in front of his brother's grave.
None of it mattered. Not because he no longer cared about his personal image, but because Sammy was gone... away... dead.
Dean felt a rain drop smatter on his head. He closed his eyes, the first of many warm, salty tears falling down his face. Another raindrop fell, and another. Each one landed softly unnoticed, unrecognized for their unique shapes and sizes.
He opened his eyes, watching as the droplets fell on the gravestone, leaving individual wet marks every time they hit.
He watched until the moistness blended, the stone completely covered in rain. He watched as his own tears wet his face 'til there wasn't a single dry spot left.
Hours passed. Cold, wet hours, that seemed to last longer than eight years, longer than eight lifetimes.
Dean finally stirred, his aching body protesting. But the soreness was forgotten for the pain still beating in his chest overpowered everything else.
He leaned forward, setting the daisies he'd brought into the cup at the base of the soaked gravestone.
"You always liked daisies," Dean whispered below the patters of the falling rain. "Even after I said they were girly."
Dean chuckled sadly, the throb in his chest making him gasp at the end of his pitiful laugh.
Suddenly Dean felt himself punch the ground he was kneeling on, the pain in his chest practically bursting. He shouted in anger, punching the ground harder so that the well-manicured grass smashed into the moistened dirt. He made a snatch for the daisies, throwing them roughly to the ground. When he realized what he had just done he doubled over, sobbing openly, rocking back and forth in the rain, whispering his apologies to deaf ears.
"I'm sorry Sammy... So sorry." He continued to sob heavily with guilt and sorrow for a while longer. He reached over and gently picked the flowers up off the ground and placed them back into the cup, his wet fingers fumbling to balance them together.
He stared at the name, remembering all the good times he'd spent with Sam. After eight years he'd trained himself perfectly to forget the bad and think of only the good. Dean wiped at a tear, his attempt to stop crying proving futile and pointless. The rain continued to fall, dampening the landscape. The water clung to Dean's hair and cascaded down his back and neck in rivulets of icy cold moistness.
He shivered, registering the cold after the emotions finally toned down. A breeze picked up, blowing the sheets of rain at an angle against the ailing man. It gusted harder, suddenly swiping up one of the daisies from the cup and blowing it across the lawn in slow rolls. Dean watched it disappear, leaving no path behind to follow, no reasons, nothing. He gazed after it, wishing that he could will his body to work to retrieve it, but then he realized there were other daisies to be protected, others that were important too and he turned his attention back to the flowers that still remained.
He twisted his hands together, still watching the rain pound onto the stone. Time passed by in a blur of rain, shivers, and gusts of wind.
He sat still, almost like a stone himself and if it hadn't have been for the sudden stop of rain and a ray of sun peeking from behind a dark cloud, Dean would not have moved for hours. However, the sudden light forced Dean to squint. He shuffled, his wet shirt and jeans sticking to his legs and arms.
He blinked, once, twice, a third time and then stood, his shoes sinking gently into the ground.
He made his way towards the exit of the graveyard, not even looking back to check on the flowers.
His feet left their prints in the wet grass, a constant distance apart, never stopping. Never changing. They left a path straight away, away from the pain and sorrow. Escaping from the memories.
Dean wiped his final tear as his shoe hit the gravel on the outside of the graveyard. His face fell into their normal lines, his eyes stony and worn, yet hiding the pain and sorrow from onlookers, burying his love for his long lost brother.
A/N: The time lapse is very bizarre in this story, beginning in the next chapter. I started out in the future and steadily am making my way into the past. Don't panic, I did this deliberately to portray the emotions in a deeper more insightful way. If, at any time in this story you are completely lost then send me either a review or IM and I'll try to clear it up for you. I'm very very protective of this story because it's kinda' a touchy subject that is very serious, so please, if you have constructive criticism then be gentle with me.