brightly_lit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
brightly_lit) wrote2013-10-22 06:03 pm
brightly_lit) wrote2013-10-22 06:03 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Boundless Love
Title: Boundless Love
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
brightly_lit
Rating: PG-13 for language, a corpse, and disturbing situations/concepts
Genre: gen, deathfic, angst, horror, hurt!Dean
Characters: Dean, Sam's body
Word Count: 1,000
Warnings: character death, spoilers through 9.01
Summary: Sam didn't say yes to Ezekiel, and a broken Dean struggles to come to terms with it. THIS IS NOT A FEEL-GOOD FIC.
"Dean wrestled Sam’s body out to the Impala, where he carefully buckled him into his seat and tilted his head so it looked like any other time his brother had sat beside him in the Impala."
Dean stared vacantly at Sam’s dead body laying on Dean’s bed in the bunker. It seemed like he’d been here before, just like this, staring at Sam’s dead body, not knowing what to do, but it was different this time. Everything was different.
Sam wanted to stay dead, and Death had promised him he could. Ezekiel hadn’t been able to convince Sam to stay alive, and Dean had been left there in a hospital room covered with sigils with a dead angel vessel and the body of his brother as different angels broke through the door. They’d roughed Dean up, demanding to know where Cas was, as Dean submitted limply to their abuse, hardly even aware of it, or of anything, except Sam’s ashen visage everywhere in his field of vision. They stared hard into his eyes, then let him slump to the floor, muttering about how he was broken and useless now, and didn’t know where Castiel was, anyway.
When he could get to his feet, Dean had wrestled Sam’s body down the deserted hallways of the wrecked hospital and out to the Impala, where he carefully buckled him into his seat and tilted his head so it looked like any other time his brother had sat beside him in the Impala, and drove them here, as Dean kept up a running monologue. Sometimes he even forgot Sam was dead until he looked over and saw that he was as inanimate as the seatbelt, because he couldn’t count the number of times Sam had sat silent there while Dean kept on talking and trying to act like they were brothers, friends, the only thing either of them had left in this world, while Sam harbored his grudges and his judgments and whatever else he held against Dean in that ongoing tally in his head. Fucking Sam.
So here they were in Dean’s room in the bunker, and fucking Sam had fucking abandoned him. He’d raged against him, would deny to his last breath some abuse he’d subjected Sam’s body to, trying to get through to him, but Sam wasn’t in there anyway, which was just like Sam, wasn’t it, to remove himself beyond Dean’s reach and deprive him of an opportunity to get his point across. Dean had fought with everything he had to keep his family together and alive, and here, at last, in the form of his brother, lay his failure. Sam was the demons and the angels and the monsters mocking him, he was his father’s unrelenting disapproval, he was his mother’s infinite absence, he was Sam’s ... Sam’s presence, his judgment, his sorrow, his humor, his smarts, his strength, his wisdom, his devotion, and the lack of all of these. He was Sam.
If there had been anyone else here, they were gone now. Kevin had gotten fed up with Dean’s abuse and taken off. When Dean finally thought to check on Crowley in his trunk, he was gone, probably freed by demons.
Sam started stinking up the place, and wouldn’t quit, no matter how much Dean yelled at him about it, so Dean covered him with heavier and heavier blankets to try to keep in the smell, and eventually, Sam finally yielded and the smell mostly went away, just as Sam had always ultimately yielded. Sam had wanted to leave their family, but he had returned, not for Dad, certainly not for hunting, but for Dean. Sam had wanted a normal life--he’d even had one, for a while, with Amelia--but he’d given it up, for Dean. No one in their right minds would want to take Lucifer into the pit, but Sam had. Not for Dean--not just for Dean. He did it for all of humanity. Sam was a big thinker like that. Altruistic. Dean didn’t believe in such a thing, but now, with Sam’s story complete, looking back, Dean had to say that if there was anyone in the world who was willing to sacrifice what they wanted for others, it was Sam. It sure as hell wasn’t Dean, because whatever justifications he came up with, whatever moralizing he engaged in, in the end, Dean did it for Sam, for Mom and Dad, for family, for the people who gave him life, because if the people who made him exist ceased to exist, how could Dean exist? He just wanted to exist.
But Sam also did it for Dean, so Dean could live. If Sam couldn’t have the normal life he wanted, second best in Sam’s mind was for Dean to have it. Sam also did it because he felt bad about freeing Lucifer, trusting Ruby, all of it. Sam would accept anything to make things right. Anything. Dean used to think he was the same, but now he was realizing it was that he would fight anything to keep what was left of his family by his side, even if what he ended up fighting was Sam himself. What he ended up destroying.
Sam’s words in the church echoed in Dean’s head. Dean hadn’t meant for all his barbs to go so deep into Sam, so deep they nicked his heart and bled away his will to live. He hadn’t meant to destroy his will to live! He’d only meant to destroy his will to leave. Turned out they were the same. Well, Sam could never leave him now. He tucked his body in under the blankets a little more tightly, tenderly, and stroked his brother’s beloved face, able to love him in this moment in a way Sam had never permitted the whole time he was alive. Sam had finally stopped fighting back.
~ The End ~
Notes:
- Okay ... so this ended up WAY creepier than I originally intended, but I like creepy, and SPN is after all a horror show, so when it went that way, I went with it. I also had a whole second half in mind, one with a significantly happier ending, but then I got to the point where this ends and it seemed like the perfect ending, so I left it at that.
Author:
brightly_litRating: PG-13 for language, a corpse, and disturbing situations/concepts
Genre: gen, deathfic, angst, horror, hurt!Dean
Characters: Dean, Sam's body
Word Count: 1,000
Warnings: character death, spoilers through 9.01
Summary: Sam didn't say yes to Ezekiel, and a broken Dean struggles to come to terms with it. THIS IS NOT A FEEL-GOOD FIC.
"Dean wrestled Sam’s body out to the Impala, where he carefully buckled him into his seat and tilted his head so it looked like any other time his brother had sat beside him in the Impala."
Dean stared vacantly at Sam’s dead body laying on Dean’s bed in the bunker. It seemed like he’d been here before, just like this, staring at Sam’s dead body, not knowing what to do, but it was different this time. Everything was different.
Sam wanted to stay dead, and Death had promised him he could. Ezekiel hadn’t been able to convince Sam to stay alive, and Dean had been left there in a hospital room covered with sigils with a dead angel vessel and the body of his brother as different angels broke through the door. They’d roughed Dean up, demanding to know where Cas was, as Dean submitted limply to their abuse, hardly even aware of it, or of anything, except Sam’s ashen visage everywhere in his field of vision. They stared hard into his eyes, then let him slump to the floor, muttering about how he was broken and useless now, and didn’t know where Castiel was, anyway.
When he could get to his feet, Dean had wrestled Sam’s body down the deserted hallways of the wrecked hospital and out to the Impala, where he carefully buckled him into his seat and tilted his head so it looked like any other time his brother had sat beside him in the Impala, and drove them here, as Dean kept up a running monologue. Sometimes he even forgot Sam was dead until he looked over and saw that he was as inanimate as the seatbelt, because he couldn’t count the number of times Sam had sat silent there while Dean kept on talking and trying to act like they were brothers, friends, the only thing either of them had left in this world, while Sam harbored his grudges and his judgments and whatever else he held against Dean in that ongoing tally in his head. Fucking Sam.
So here they were in Dean’s room in the bunker, and fucking Sam had fucking abandoned him. He’d raged against him, would deny to his last breath some abuse he’d subjected Sam’s body to, trying to get through to him, but Sam wasn’t in there anyway, which was just like Sam, wasn’t it, to remove himself beyond Dean’s reach and deprive him of an opportunity to get his point across. Dean had fought with everything he had to keep his family together and alive, and here, at last, in the form of his brother, lay his failure. Sam was the demons and the angels and the monsters mocking him, he was his father’s unrelenting disapproval, he was his mother’s infinite absence, he was Sam’s ... Sam’s presence, his judgment, his sorrow, his humor, his smarts, his strength, his wisdom, his devotion, and the lack of all of these. He was Sam.
If there had been anyone else here, they were gone now. Kevin had gotten fed up with Dean’s abuse and taken off. When Dean finally thought to check on Crowley in his trunk, he was gone, probably freed by demons.
Sam started stinking up the place, and wouldn’t quit, no matter how much Dean yelled at him about it, so Dean covered him with heavier and heavier blankets to try to keep in the smell, and eventually, Sam finally yielded and the smell mostly went away, just as Sam had always ultimately yielded. Sam had wanted to leave their family, but he had returned, not for Dad, certainly not for hunting, but for Dean. Sam had wanted a normal life--he’d even had one, for a while, with Amelia--but he’d given it up, for Dean. No one in their right minds would want to take Lucifer into the pit, but Sam had. Not for Dean--not just for Dean. He did it for all of humanity. Sam was a big thinker like that. Altruistic. Dean didn’t believe in such a thing, but now, with Sam’s story complete, looking back, Dean had to say that if there was anyone in the world who was willing to sacrifice what they wanted for others, it was Sam. It sure as hell wasn’t Dean, because whatever justifications he came up with, whatever moralizing he engaged in, in the end, Dean did it for Sam, for Mom and Dad, for family, for the people who gave him life, because if the people who made him exist ceased to exist, how could Dean exist? He just wanted to exist.
But Sam also did it for Dean, so Dean could live. If Sam couldn’t have the normal life he wanted, second best in Sam’s mind was for Dean to have it. Sam also did it because he felt bad about freeing Lucifer, trusting Ruby, all of it. Sam would accept anything to make things right. Anything. Dean used to think he was the same, but now he was realizing it was that he would fight anything to keep what was left of his family by his side, even if what he ended up fighting was Sam himself. What he ended up destroying.
Sam’s words in the church echoed in Dean’s head. Dean hadn’t meant for all his barbs to go so deep into Sam, so deep they nicked his heart and bled away his will to live. He hadn’t meant to destroy his will to live! He’d only meant to destroy his will to leave. Turned out they were the same. Well, Sam could never leave him now. He tucked his body in under the blankets a little more tightly, tenderly, and stroked his brother’s beloved face, able to love him in this moment in a way Sam had never permitted the whole time he was alive. Sam had finally stopped fighting back.
~ The End ~
Notes:
- Okay ... so this ended up WAY creepier than I originally intended, but I like creepy, and SPN is after all a horror show, so when it went that way, I went with it. I also had a whole second half in mind, one with a significantly happier ending, but then I got to the point where this ends and it seemed like the perfect ending, so I left it at that.
no subject
Oh Dean, bb.
I loved the image of Dean setting Sam's body up in the Impala as though he were only asleep; a few years ago there was a news story out of Los Angeles (where else?) about a woman who'd done the same, and then suffered to go about her normal business for months and months with a dressed up, air-freshened corpse riding shotgun in her car. (Her passenger had passed away in the car, and she didn't know what to do, and so...panicked artfully. As one does.) I wrote fic with respect to that news story, too, so WHAT CAN I SAY, STRANGE THINGS HAPPENING TO CORPSIFIED SAM IS SOMETHING NEAR AND DEAR TO MY HEART. XD And then Dean's Faulknerian treatment of Sam's body in the aftermath, and in the bunker--that in this it becomes a crypt instead of a sanctuary is such a powerful inversion, and speaks to Dean's general trains of thought in this fic at large. His cornucopia of rage, violence, desolation, guilt, inattention, and obsession is beautifully articulated.
<3333
no subject
YES, it's amazing how many people do this kind of thing with dead bodies. *___* This story was partly inspired by a news story I saw only recently where a very alcoholic mother of eight let one of her kids starve to death, wrapped up his body in some blankets and put it on a cot for a couple of years, WHERE THE ENTIRE FAMILY JUST LIVED WITH THIS BODY.
I was thinking of you when I posted this fic, thinking that you would likely be one of the only people who would like/get it! I knew the horror would be right up your alley, and you can follow Dean down his dark mental pathways, and you could handle a deathfic, so I was really hoping you would read it, and I'm so glad you liked it!!
no subject
Haha, YOU KNOW THE KEYS TO MY HEART! ;D
no subject
Yeah, this was very creepy.
I'm really amazed at how much of Dean's character you highlighted here, it almost works as a character study.
...if the people who made him exist ceased to exist, how could Dean exist?
This line is really amazing. I think you've expressed really well one of the most important part of Dean's character, which is, he lives for his family, for other people. It seems like he doesn't ever really do anything for himself, he always does things for his family. And with his family being such an intrinsic part of his identity, if his family isn't there anymore, who is Dean?
And the ending where Dean could love Sam fully because he wasn't fighting back is really powerful.
I think it says a lot about whether Dean's love for his family was actually selfless, which I'm not really sure it was. Dean lived for his family but I think he wanted them with him more than he wanted them to be happy, otherwise he would have let Sam go before this.
Hmm, not sure if any of my musings made sense but you've really made me consider a lot of things about Dean I hadn't really noticed before. It's actually really impressive how much you've put in in only 1000 words.
Actually I'm interested in how the second half would have turned out, because I can't imagine how it could end happily. Maybe Dean recovers and learns to live his own life and do what makes him happy??
no subject
And you hit the nail on the head--these thoughts about whether Dean's love is actually selfless were exactly the kinds of thoughts that eventually led to this fic, and also led me to conclude it's a selfish sort of selflessness.
My vision for the second half was going to be that Dean finally had to leave the bunker to get some food and was such a mess people try to help him get himself together and get a job. Eventually he realizes he's in the same exact state of mind Sam must have been when Sam "didn't look for him" and Dean, probably only dimly, comes to understand that Sam simply couldn't, any more than Dean can function at this point, and he starts to let some of that stuff go. If it felt right, once Dean was able to actually let Sam do whatever he has to do, I considered even having Sam come back to life, brought back like Cas et al have been before, but now that it's done, I'm glad it ended where it did.
Thanks for another awesome comment, and I'm so glad you shared your thoughts.
no subject
This is so lovely...and creepy...but lovely.
"Sam started stinking up the place, and wouldn’t quit, no matter how much Dean yelled at him about it, so Dean covered him with heavier and heavier blankets to try to keep in the smell"
Just really sums up their whole dynamic.
Oh poor boys : ( x
no subject
Their whole dynamic, YES.
So glad you enjoyed this--it's not everybody's cup of tea, but I really loved this one, and it's good to see a few others like it, too.
Thanks for reading, and commenting!
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no subject
Dean hadn’t meant for all his barbs to go so deep into Sam, so deep they nicked his heart and bled away his will to live.
Such a beautiful, poignant line. Dean, no malice in him, only trying to do what's best. And so tender now with his brother, together and forever broken.
Well done.
no subject
Thanks for commenting.
no subject
I think another commenter mentioned it, but Dean really isn't selfless with his family, even when he thinks he is. He has a complete blind spot, where he thinks he knows what's best. Bless him and his issues...
Anyway, definitely not a feel-good fic, but really well written.
no subject
That selfishness in Dean is what inspired this fic. I was trying to figure out what's going on in that noggin of his and I came to that conclusion, that he's not as selfless about Sam and the rest of his family as he claims to be.
Thanks for commenting. :-)