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[SR] The Crow quote
Dec. 4th, 2009 10:36 pm[Set in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_4th_seal. Lana is ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
horsewoman_lana and used with permission from her mun who made a request for Dean/Lana future fic with the prompt “gain.” Set after THIS. Haven’t watched Smallville in a while and didn’t write Lana that often so any ooc-ness is all me.]
“If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn. People die. But real love lives forever.”
He stood out in the field for hours, shouting at the sky trying to get the angels’ attention. He shouted at the sky until he was blue in the face, till his throat was hoarse, but none of them came. Not a single one of them was listening, and now Dean was feeling even more alone than he had when he and Sam had gone their separate ways all that time ago. It wasn’t just that Sam was gone. It was that he was gone, and he had no way to get him back. He still didn’t know where the Colt was, and it wasn’t like he had any other options.
Now would have been the time for Michael. Now Dean had nothing left, nothing else to lose, and it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t get to see the end result when it was all over. As far as he was concerned, this was the end. He didn’t even have Sam to go back to. To find in some out of the way place, all in one piece where they could try and fix things.
He hated feeling this useless. He hated feeling like he was only good if he gave someone else his body. But if this was all he was good for, the prophecy didn’t make any sense. Why would they say the one who started it would be the one to stop it if all he had to do was say yes to Michael? There was no redemption in that. That was just him being a vessel, an empty container for the person doing the real work, then that didn’t seem like he was stopping anything. He was just passing the buck to someone else. That wasn’t redemption. That was taking a short cut.
As he made his way back into the camp, he avoided the lights of the fires and the house lights. He didn’t want to be seen or to speak to anyone, because they would more than likely ask him if he was okay, and he really didn’t want to answer that question. He wasn’t sure he had an answer, and his throat hurt too much to talk anyway. He had just reached the door of his cabin and thought that he had gotten away clean when he heard the soft voice behind him.
“Dean?”
( *** )
1169 words
the_4th_seal. Lana is horsewoman_lana and used with permission from her mun who made a request for Dean/Lana future fic with the prompt “gain.” Set after THIS. Haven’t watched Smallville in a while and didn’t write Lana that often so any ooc-ness is all me.]“If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn. People die. But real love lives forever.”
He stood out in the field for hours, shouting at the sky trying to get the angels’ attention. He shouted at the sky until he was blue in the face, till his throat was hoarse, but none of them came. Not a single one of them was listening, and now Dean was feeling even more alone than he had when he and Sam had gone their separate ways all that time ago. It wasn’t just that Sam was gone. It was that he was gone, and he had no way to get him back. He still didn’t know where the Colt was, and it wasn’t like he had any other options.
Now would have been the time for Michael. Now Dean had nothing left, nothing else to lose, and it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t get to see the end result when it was all over. As far as he was concerned, this was the end. He didn’t even have Sam to go back to. To find in some out of the way place, all in one piece where they could try and fix things.
He hated feeling this useless. He hated feeling like he was only good if he gave someone else his body. But if this was all he was good for, the prophecy didn’t make any sense. Why would they say the one who started it would be the one to stop it if all he had to do was say yes to Michael? There was no redemption in that. That was just him being a vessel, an empty container for the person doing the real work, then that didn’t seem like he was stopping anything. He was just passing the buck to someone else. That wasn’t redemption. That was taking a short cut.
As he made his way back into the camp, he avoided the lights of the fires and the house lights. He didn’t want to be seen or to speak to anyone, because they would more than likely ask him if he was okay, and he really didn’t want to answer that question. He wasn’t sure he had an answer, and his throat hurt too much to talk anyway. He had just reached the door of his cabin and thought that he had gotten away clean when he heard the soft voice behind him.
“Dean?”
( *** )
1169 words
