Summary: Why do I keep smiling? Set in season three.
Disclaimers: I don't own Supernatural.
Why do I keep smiling?
Why do I seem to think it's all okay?
Or is it just I'm pretending for both of us?
Doesn't really matter. I still do it. Still keep smiling, thinking it's all okay, pretending. I'm the eternal optimist. Sam is the one who cranks me down all the time with his emo-crap but I guess I'll let it slide now. He's kinda got a reason, you know? Me with the deal and all.
He doesn't get it. He thinks he's gonna find some loophole and we'll all be fine and dandy. Well, damn, he's wrong. Don't get me wrong, Sammy's a great little brother but he's gotta learn he can't help me out of this mess. And he's gotten me out a lot of those.
False identity? Give Sammy a minute and then you're out. Carrying illegal weapons? He'll charm the police right away. Keeping me under the radar from suspicion of murder? He got kind of crazy over that one, but sure, he got me out unarrested or whatever. Later, the robbery? I admit after that I was kinda testing his patience. But he kept me safe.
He just has to learn he can't keep me safe from this.
You see, he thinks I'm suicidal whenever I stop him from trying something to break the deal. That I finally went whacko in my head, too many dates with the wall of some house or grave and my head. I haven't. I just know. There is no way out.
I'm going to hell, and he can't stop it. If we break it, he dies. If we hold it, I die. Nothing fair in that, but that's life.
I guess it isn't fair on him either. Knowing where I'm going. Keeps saying I shouldn't have saved him, the demon in our family. I tell you, he says something stupid like that again, I'm seriously gonna beat the crap out of him. He's no more devil than me and dad. Maybe less than us. Still, not fair I'm going and leaving him behind. But I know he can keep on moving. Keep on living. Keep on fighting, even if it's reckless and dangerous.
He'll be mad at a lot of things, me included. I mean, I'm leaving him behind. He should be pissed. He'll rant. He'll scream. He'll hit. He'll try to figure out a way to get me out. I know that. That's what's keeping my hopes up. Sammy will fight for me. Even if he doesn't succeed, at least I got my memories of him. I'll treasure them in hell, for as long as I can.
So he shouldn't try breaking the deal. Because if he does, and he dies, I won't be able to go on. I can't live without him. If he thought when he was away at Stanford that was I was living my life, he'll be wrong. All wrong. I didn't live. I barely managed to hold onto life. I kept up the smiling, the cocky attitude, everything… but my heart had just stopped beating, and it didn't start until I was on the road with him again. I can't have it stopping again, because then, even if he comes back, it won't be able to start.
I wish I can summon up the courage to tell him that. That, and how much I love the kid. Hell, I took care of him more than dad did. I dried his nose after a cold, cooked him dinner, bought his clothes and shoes until he was old enough to do it himself, made him do his homework, heck I even helped a few times when he was real young. I kept the nightmares away with soothing words I had heard would help. I knew for me they wouldn't help, but when Sam was young enough he believed in them, and fell asleep at peace.
I can't help but wish he'd still believe them. Then we wouldn't be in this situation, because then his years of hunting never would have happened. He could have been happy, maybe married, be a lawyer, having a normal life that I know he sometimes yearn for. I can give him a lot of things, but not that. Wish I could. Wish I could do a lot of stuff.
But I can't. So that's why I keep on smiling, keep on saying it's gonna be just fine… I keep on pretending.
Bit of an odd drabble I wrote. Don't normally do this stuff.
Hoped you enjoyed, or something.
Until another time,