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For the summer contest found at Whedonverse and Beyond:
www.whedonverseandbeyond.net/forum/showthread.php
*****
Expression: I wouldn’t set the sun at night ‘till everyone was treated right.
Mood prompt: Betrayed
Word prompt: Reflections
Broken, by Pat
Supernatural, Sam PoV, PG-15 for language
For two days it’s been Bobby and me, mopping around his shack. Seeing Dean being torn apart, alive, kicking and screaming was obviously too much for me. When I came back to myself, Bobby was there, tears running unchecked on his burly face, I was shocked and unresponsive. I still am. My big brother, my protector, my confident, my best friend, the closest person I have ever been to is not by me anymore. His grin that I thought was immortalized in my brain was replaced by the painful expression frozen in that last moment. Can I even ever listen to classic rock again? Gee all my musical education has to be shoved down a drain; from now on it ought to be NPR radio all the time. I cry; Again. There were tears left to be shed?
It’s always in times like those that the worse memories come to plague my conscious moments. Dean giving me the Christmas present from hell: a Barbie; my sibling checking my homework; Dean giving me my first wedgies; Dean teaching me to drive the Impala. Good and bad moments, all cherished, all lost forever as the only person I could share them with is gone, left me to face the world, alone.
I knew it could happen, I prepared for it, I just can’t live through the absence! Fuck the world, why brings us in it? To fight? There isn’t enough fodder out there?
I remember so well his dibs, he was so sure I was the good brother, the one that cared about the world, the innocents. I just wanted to understand what it was that dad was disappearing for, I wanted to know how much of a risk Dean was taking, I wanted to kill whatever took mom out before I had a chance to grow-up with her. Caring for the world came later, in my teens, only after I assured myself that we were all equipped, mentally and physically, to deal with the various hunts. I even had the misguided impression that what we did would change the world that I could make sure that everyone was always treated right, was safer if not happier at the end of a gig.
Dean would usually get the girl and I would scoff. Today I am reeling. Where were any of these people we saved? For years, we sacrificed, hurt, and had no lives for people that simply were in the wrong place at the wrong time or made the wrong decisions. None was there for us. None picked up for dad, none offered to help Dean, and none stood by me.
I hate them all! They can all rot in hell for all I care. The world is not a safe place, it’s not a caring place and I refuse to carry its weight.
I want my brother back… I don’t want to be nice to people, to reassure them, to defend them. I want to be reassured, protected, happy and it can never happen again.
The End (words: 504)
www.whedonverseandbeyond.net/forum/showthread.php
*****
Expression: I wouldn’t set the sun at night ‘till everyone was treated right.
Mood prompt: Betrayed
Word prompt: Reflections
Broken, by Pat
Supernatural, Sam PoV, PG-15 for language
For two days it’s been Bobby and me, mopping around his shack. Seeing Dean being torn apart, alive, kicking and screaming was obviously too much for me. When I came back to myself, Bobby was there, tears running unchecked on his burly face, I was shocked and unresponsive. I still am. My big brother, my protector, my confident, my best friend, the closest person I have ever been to is not by me anymore. His grin that I thought was immortalized in my brain was replaced by the painful expression frozen in that last moment. Can I even ever listen to classic rock again? Gee all my musical education has to be shoved down a drain; from now on it ought to be NPR radio all the time. I cry; Again. There were tears left to be shed?
It’s always in times like those that the worse memories come to plague my conscious moments. Dean giving me the Christmas present from hell: a Barbie; my sibling checking my homework; Dean giving me my first wedgies; Dean teaching me to drive the Impala. Good and bad moments, all cherished, all lost forever as the only person I could share them with is gone, left me to face the world, alone.
I knew it could happen, I prepared for it, I just can’t live through the absence! Fuck the world, why brings us in it? To fight? There isn’t enough fodder out there?
I remember so well his dibs, he was so sure I was the good brother, the one that cared about the world, the innocents. I just wanted to understand what it was that dad was disappearing for, I wanted to know how much of a risk Dean was taking, I wanted to kill whatever took mom out before I had a chance to grow-up with her. Caring for the world came later, in my teens, only after I assured myself that we were all equipped, mentally and physically, to deal with the various hunts. I even had the misguided impression that what we did would change the world that I could make sure that everyone was always treated right, was safer if not happier at the end of a gig.
Dean would usually get the girl and I would scoff. Today I am reeling. Where were any of these people we saved? For years, we sacrificed, hurt, and had no lives for people that simply were in the wrong place at the wrong time or made the wrong decisions. None was there for us. None picked up for dad, none offered to help Dean, and none stood by me.
I hate them all! They can all rot in hell for all I care. The world is not a safe place, it’s not a caring place and I refuse to carry its weight.
I want my brother back… I don’t want to be nice to people, to reassure them, to defend them. I want to be reassured, protected, happy and it can never happen again.
The End (words: 504)
