But Not Yet Broken (1/1)

Summary: Dean's breaking, but not yet broken. A different perspective.

Characters: Impala, Dean, mention of Sam (gen)


A/N: Spoilers for 2.01 IMToD and 2.02 ELAC. Metallicar pov of that scene at the end of ELAC.

Disclaimer: I don't own the show or them boys. Not for profit.

But Not Yet Broken

She felt his anger

She felt his rage

She felt his pain

She felt his fear…

She felt this all as it ripped through her, the glass splintering and shattering throughout, a feral cry filling the interior. It felt surreal and powerfully breath-taking and the glass, the cry, the emotion that fed it, felt like it had exploded, propelling it all like it had become a slowed-down aesthetic scene. A visage to how fast and furious it truly had been. If she had been anything more than what she was, skin would have been ripped from bone.

If she could bleed, she would.

If she could cry, she would.

She felt the beat and hits to her hood, metal against metal, and the viciousness behind it that slowly ebbed away as his body sagged, his arm dropping, and finally releasing it's hold on the offending crow bar. Metal clanging on the dusty floor was clearly heard reverberating through the air.

She did not hate him.

She did not feel betrayed by him.

She ached for him and wished for a time when she could have made him feel better; a time when she could have provided him with the comfort and reassurance of the familiarity of her presence between his fingers and her leather beneath his legs.

But this had been shattered and lost along with John. Here she was – a picture of health and lovingly restored beauty, simply perfect, while John lay dead and lost forever.

If she could bleed, she would.

If she could cry, she would.

She heard the strangled and choked sound and the desperate and weak attempt to bite down on it.

She felt his touch again, less painful and gentler, as light fingers ghosted over her. And then he turned, and slumped, his body sliding down the side of her. She felt him as he sat there, back against metal, knees tucked up and head burrowed down as he took the time to count out his breathing.

She wanted to help him.

She wanted to make everything better…

So, she let him sit there, leaning against her. She hoped her black metal frame, warmed from the sun, would provide him with the little comfort and reassurance she could give – at least until he could find the strength to stand and break that bit further in front of his brother.

And she just hoped that Sam would be fast enough to catch the falling pieces, because, by god, someone had to put him back together before he broke and shattered completely.

He was shattering, but not yet shattered.

He was breaking, but not yet broken.