Happy Christmas, War is Over - ficlet
Dec. 25th, 2013 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amberdreamsWarnings: Not a happy festive fic! Spoilers for Season 9
Words: 285
Summary: Dean holds vigil over Kevin's body.
Happy Christmas, war is over
Dean sits with Kevin for a very long time. His eyes are dry and sore from staring. He feels every blink reinforces his betrayal, so he keeps his eyes wide open. He has to bear witness to the crime committed by Ezekiel – no, Gadreel – while using and abusing Sam’s body. Because the real crime doesn’t belong to the angel, or to the hand the angel used to burn the young prophet from the inside out. No. Dean Winchester knows very well where the real blame lies.
With him.
Dean doesn’t cry. Since he shed that one tear – for Sam, for Kevin, for himself? Who knew? He hasn’t been able to move or to weep. The pain that grips his chest tight barely allows him to draw breath. He feels as though someone has scraped away his insides with a spoon, stealing his courage and his will.
Kevin is dead. The kid who’d suffered so much, given so much and gained so little from the deal, was dead. Murdered by a servant of the god who’d created the boy and given him such a fucking stupid, awful destiny. If Dean could feel anything but guilt right now, he’d be fucking mad as hell for the kid.
Sam is gone, and Dean doesn’t even know for how long, because Gadreel had been so convincing playing Sam just now, Dean can no longer be sure the angel hadn’t been playing Dean for the fool that he is, right from the start.
Kevin’s blackened, burnt-out, empty sockets gaze at Dean, full of accusations he can’t defend himself from.
His fault. His grievous fault.
Dean knows.
This time, this is something he can’t fix.
Words: 285
Summary: Dean holds vigil over Kevin's body.
Happy Christmas, war is over
Dean sits with Kevin for a very long time. His eyes are dry and sore from staring. He feels every blink reinforces his betrayal, so he keeps his eyes wide open. He has to bear witness to the crime committed by Ezekiel – no, Gadreel – while using and abusing Sam’s body. Because the real crime doesn’t belong to the angel, or to the hand the angel used to burn the young prophet from the inside out. No. Dean Winchester knows very well where the real blame lies.
With him.
Dean doesn’t cry. Since he shed that one tear – for Sam, for Kevin, for himself? Who knew? He hasn’t been able to move or to weep. The pain that grips his chest tight barely allows him to draw breath. He feels as though someone has scraped away his insides with a spoon, stealing his courage and his will.
Kevin is dead. The kid who’d suffered so much, given so much and gained so little from the deal, was dead. Murdered by a servant of the god who’d created the boy and given him such a fucking stupid, awful destiny. If Dean could feel anything but guilt right now, he’d be fucking mad as hell for the kid.
Sam is gone, and Dean doesn’t even know for how long, because Gadreel had been so convincing playing Sam just now, Dean can no longer be sure the angel hadn’t been playing Dean for the fool that he is, right from the start.
Kevin’s blackened, burnt-out, empty sockets gaze at Dean, full of accusations he can’t defend himself from.
His fault. His grievous fault.
Dean knows.
This time, this is something he can’t fix.