A/N Ok, so I had to get this angsty-ness out of my head. My apologies.
Disclaimer~ Own, I do not.
Dean Winchester quickly looked around himself to make sure he was alone before collapsing in front of the grave. His fingers traced over the name etched elegantly into the stone. He felt the tears welling in his eyes but didn't bother to force them back. They rolled down his cheeks slowly.
"I'm sure you already know this, Mom, but Sammy turned eighteen yesterday." He chocked out, trying to smile. "Dad surprised him, finished his hunt early so he could be there." he wiped a few tears from his cheeks.
"We're doing okay. Sammy and me have been doing hunts by ourselves. Everything he does, he's good at. Got straight A's in school, applied for a few colleges...You'd be real proud of him, Mom." Dean let ou a choked sob and his hands clenched. "I sure am." He took a deep breath and wiped a few more tears away.
"He's...he's a lot like you, y'know. Got a big heart of gold and all that."The hunter forced a laugh. "Hit a growth spurt 'bout a year back. The kid's bigger than me now. I still beat him when we spar. I'll let him win if he's been having a rough day. I'm pretty sure he knows I let him win but it makes him feel better."
Dean sighed. He felt the tears fall from his face and soak into his jeans. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair. He could feel himself trembling and the cool breeze chilled him.
"We uh, we ganked a leprechaun last week." He tried another laugh but it sounded much more like a sob. "Nasty little shits. Didn't even have any gold. But it was up in Maine. One of those little towns you always loved. Y'know, where everyone knows everyone and all the shops and stuff are local. What's that word you used? Quaint?" Even as he said it, he could hear her talking about 'quaint little towns'.
"Dad still wears his wedding ring. 'Cept on hunts, doesn't want it lost or anything. He's different without you, Mom. And...I know he does his best for Sammy and me, but sometimes it's not enough, y'know?" he shook his head.
The wind rustled the trees in the graveyard and Dean couls swear he heard her voice. A fresh wave of tears washed over him and he tried desperatly to hold them back. All he could think was 'I don't want Mom to see me cry any more.' Though he knew it didn't matter it didn't dtop the thought. He could hear that little four year old still in him begging for his mom to come kiss it better and he gave up on holding the tears back.
He gripped the top of the gravestone and leaned his forhead on it. The cold granite was like ice on his overheated skin. He let the sobs wrack his body, the dry dirt under him soaking up the tears that fell.
"I miss you, Mommy." he whispered.
Dean could've sworn he felt a soft hand carress his cheek.
A/N I am so horrible to you, Dean. but the episodes have been so depressing lately that I couldd't help it. Maybe writing some Destiel fluff will bury the angst from the show...