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TV Shows » Supernatural » You had but to ask
B s : A A A
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Author: Meggin Lane
Fiction Rated: T - English - Drama/Angst - Reviews: 12 - Published: 02-04-08 - Updated: 02-04-08
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You had but to ask…
Summary: Dean prays and God answers him in a way he'd understand.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just love 'em. Wish ta 'el I worked for Kripke
The rain had been coming down in fits and starts all gray daylong. Dean pulled the curtain back from their window in this dump of a motel to peer outside but there was nothing much to see.
Sammy had stopped talking to him.
Couple months ago Sam had made a point of hugging him at least two, sometimes, three times a day. And at least one hug was always so long that Dean would have to make the ending motions. For the last two weeks he'd caught Sam giving him tear filled stares that would end in a quick turn away. But now, with just two days left Sam had pulled in on himself. No more talking, no more touching, just closing down and locking Dean out. That was the part that hurt the most. Sam behaving like he was gone already.
And the anger.
The day before Sam had up and thrown his laptop against the wall, his prized research tool smashed into a hundred bits before grabbing a jacket and storming out. And yesterday Dean had walked in on a Sam yelling at Bobby over the phone, calling him a useless old man before hanging up on him. Dean couldn't stand seeing his brother fall apart, watching him loose all the traits one by one that had made Sammy –Sammy. What would be left?
Damn it all to Hell with me! When that damn pet demon of Sam's, Ruby, told him that there was no escape from the pit and that it wasn't just about torture and torment but changing you making you into one of them a part of him died right then. This wasn't what he'd wanted, not for Sam not for himself. Damn it!
He was out the door and driving no destination just the need for speed; it was all going down so wrong so fast.
The desert landscape was a monochrome blur. The rain's soft patter on the roof and the rhythm of the wipers were the only constant sounds. Reception on the radio had been slipping in and out because of the surrounding hills and faded to a hiss of static but Dean hadn't bothered to turn it off. He wasn't listening; he was lost in his own thoughts.
I never meant for you to hurt this way Sammy. I just couldn't loose you! It was a selfish thing to do, so stupid. I knew better, Dad raised me to know better than to go to a demon for help; but I did it anyway and now you're payin for it, and Bobby-why' d ya hafta call him that? Can't ya see he's hurtin too. God, I made him cry, I made Bobby cry when I told him what I did. How could I do that to him, to you? And now my times up! And it's all so wrong. None of the good I'd hoped for is gonna come from this. It's all so wrong, I've hurt, in the worst way I ever could the only people I love. God, I've screwed them royally and I've screwed myself.
The rain blurred streaks across the windshield and the tears starting to fill his eyes were making it hard to see as the car sped down the lonely stretch of asphalt.
I remember Mom helping me with my prayers when she told me at night that angels were watchin over me and I'd ask God to bless her and Dad and you Sammy.
God, if I could know you were gonna be all right…I'd do anything for you. But not this. I know that now. I don't know were to turn Sammy… I don't want this for you!
The blurring of his vision forced Dean to pull off to the side. Pulling onto the shoulder he throws the car in park; engine still running.
I can't do this! Dean grips the wheel until his knuckles hurt. God help me, I can't, won't let them make me into one of them. God help me! I never meant to turn away from You but its all been so hard. I used to help Sammy with his prayers but I just didn't feel it anymore. Felt like I was lying to myself, lying to him. And now I don't even know if You can or want to hear me. I don't want to turn into one of them, I don't want Sam to turn into a broken bitter man because of me. I've got so much to ask, too much, I don't even know where to begin.
Dean looks at his hands upon the wheel and slowly lets it go. He pauses. The static from the radio fills the car. Then gently as if trying to remember how places his palms together tips of every finger touching. He risks a glance up at the ceiling of the car and then his face crumbles and his forehead tumbles down to touch his fingers; his shoulders hunch and in one body racking shudder he utters one broken word, "Please…"
A sob escapes him.
The radio suddenly comes to life with the song "Carry on My Wayward Son" Startled Dean jumps back. Expressions of shock and amazement play across his face. And then relief.
The song fills the Impala with sound, the clarity of every note, every word is amazing. It vibrates against his chest and his heart begins to fill with something it hasn't felt in almost a year-
Please review-I've been amazed at all the fics the Deal has generated-each a little different, but every one takes a bite out of your heart-this was written to try to put that piece back.
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