return to dust - SN fic - R

[tigriswolf]

Title: return to dust

Fandom: “Supernatural”

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from “Jar of Clay” by Pinmonkey.

Warnings: future fic; character death; non-con

Pairings: Bobby/Ellen, Gordon/Dean

Rating: R

Wordcount: 1135

Point of view: third

 

 

            I’ll never forgive you, Dean says, and Sam responds, Just let go.

 

            Whenever the young pups come ’round asking for the stories, Bobby doesn’t mind giving them up. It doesn’t feel like betrayal anymore, more’n fifteen years on.

            There are some he doesn’t tell, though, figuring he doesn’t have the right. But most… when he speaks the words, he nearly sees John’s boys again.

 

            The final blow comes far sooner than Dean’d expected, and from a source he’d never imagined. 

            Hey, Dean, Jo purrs, and her eyes never turn black at all. 

            The ropes bite into his skin, and his head aches; the blow had come out of nowhere, from one of the last people in the world he trusted.

            Dean studies her: she’s not possessed, just insane, which is worse. So much worse. —Gordon—

            Why don’t you tell me where Sam is, Dean? she asks, cooing, caressing his jaw. He glares at her, not surprised when she just smiles. After being raised by Ellen, there’s not much that can scare a person. 

            Bitch, Dean mutters.

            Jo just keeps smiling.

 

            Ellen can’t think of John’s boys with anything but guilt. It wasn’t her fault and she knows it—but the death-blow came from her own blood.

            She’d hoped to keep her baby-girl away from the darkness that stole Billy, but Jo lost herself, sometime after Sam’s possession… and then Gordon(dangerous bastard) got a hold of her. 

            Ellen doesn’t own a saloon anymore, but lives with Bobby on his speck of land in South Dakota. She tends the garden out back, hunting if a hunt comes her way. Bobby’s the unofficial president of their little club, and the new pups look up to him.

            She’s not much of anything anymore, just a worn-out old woman who remembers better days, when she had her little girl and her husband, instead of a grizzled old warrior and useless regrets.

 

            Dean’s glad Sammy’s gone. First time he’s ever had that thought in his entire life, and the sincerity of it catches him off-guard. 

            It’s all Jo demands: Sam’s location. Sometimes Gordon comes with her, sometimes not, but it’s always the same question.

            Where’s Sammy, Dean?  Jo’s—Gordon’s—voice is soft. Kind. Like a caring friend.

            Dean never answers, just smirks, even when he’s almost forgotten why.

 

            Kat and Michael love retelling how Dean Winchester saved them—with help from Sam, of course. No story of Dean is complete without Sam.  Sarah and Cassie sometimes chime in, both with a wistfulness anyone who remembers the Winchesters understands. Andrea just clutches her son’s hand with a sad smile.

 

            Gordon grows less patient by the hour, glaring at Dean like it’s his fault.

            Which, okay, it is. But Dean’s not giving up Sam to anyone, no matter the cost. Gordon, the crazy bastard, is just gonna have to live with that.

            Jo just smiles in the corner, her eyes drifting from Dean to Gordon and back. There’s one persuasion you haven’t tried yet, Gordy, she murmurs and Dean closes his eyes.

            Here it comes.

            Dean’s not a fool—he knows exactly how appealing he is. But if that yellow-eyed bastard couldn’t break him, no way in hell a human will.

 

            Bobby often watches the sunrise, holding Ellen close. They don’t speak, sitting on his porch in silence.

            Asher and Rosie cling to each other by their feet, Michael by his brother and Kat beside Rosie.

            They’re happy, right? Rosie asks, every morning. 

            Bobby always says, Yep, they sure are.

 

            Dean doesn’t make a sound. Jo watches with wide, excited eyes. Gordon curses and grunts, and Dean wants him dead. 

            But there won’t be an escape. Sam’s safe, and he knows better than to come for Dean. 

            He’d better stay the fuck away, or Dean’ll kick his ass.

 

            Not even Bobby—who knows most everything there is to know about the Winchesters—is sure how it went down.

            Missouri could tell him, if she felt so inclined. But she doesn’t.

 

            Dean’s barely conscious and far from caring when an explosion rocks the room. Gordon pulls back, then rolls off him, shouting a question Dean doesn’t catch at Jo.

            She shrieks something back, and the terror in her voice reaches Dean in the fog. He tries focusing but can’t, sinking further into himself.

            It hurts so much, so deep inside, and he’d thought himself used to pain. Jo screams—and if Dean were more awake, more himself, he’d take a dark pleasure in the sound.

            Gordon’s babbling, though Dean can’t make out anything more than the noise, can’t understand what Gordon’s saying. 

            It seems like begging, from far away, but going by Gordon’s keen it doesn’t work.

 

            Missouri dreams about that final encounter, the one that cost Dean his life and Sam his sanity. It’s not a fittin’ end for John’s boys, and she wishes it could’ve gone better. They deserved more, so much more—damn that Gordon Walker and his little whore. 

            She can’t hear the boys’ words in her dream, just watch as Sam kneels beside his brother, pulls Dean into his arms. He’s frantic and terrified, begging Dean—she can make out that much.

            She wakes before Dean dies, every time.

 

            He isn’t really aware, but he feels the hands on him, pulling him close, can barely hear the voice—familiar—crooning in his ear. He doesn’t understand the words, just the tone, and it’s safe. 

            And when he realizes who it is, he’s pissed as he can be, floating in the fog. Oh, hell no. His voice is hoarse and shattered, and Sam’s arms tighten around him.

            I’m here, Dean, he says. It’s alright now.

            Wasn’t ‘sposed to come, Dean manages. ’sposed to leave me, Sammy. Stay safe.

            Leave you? Sam scoffs, a light hand brushing hair off Dean’s forehead. Never.

 

            It was Jefferson who found the bodies, called Ellen and Bobby. No one knew quite what to make of it, but everybody knew Gordon Walker’s view about psychics. And everyone knew that Jo Harvelle never was the same after a possessed Sam Winchester paid her a visit.

            It looked like Gordon had gone crazy, killed Jo and the Winchesters, but Ellen and Bobby knew better. They never spoke of it, though, even to themselves. Neither could stand to be alone after that, so they fell together, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

            Bobby’s house became a frequent stop for hunters, old and new alike, who wanted to know about the legendary Winchesters. One of the stories he never told, though, was how they died.

            So far as anyone but Jefferson, Ellen, Bobby, or Michelle knew, Dean and Sam were still out there, somewhere, doing what they did best. 

            And that’s the way it should be, Ellen tells Bobby at sunset, a few months after. John’s boys, out hunting…

            Bobby nods.

 

           

Comments

[sarlev-vanisa.livejournal.com]

*cries*

That is the most saddest thing ever. That was very beautiful, you should be proud of this. I loved how you pieced it all together. The legendary Winchesters part broke my heart.

&hearts

[tigriswolf]

Thank you _so_ much!

[sadelyrate.livejournal.com]

*adores the pretty ficlet*

You've gotta stop writing death-fics like these, because I can no longer decide which way I'd prefer the boys to go if they have to...

But...boys.

There really isn't any words to appropriate tell you how much them and Bobby and Ellen this is. How easy it is to imagine Gordon and Jo going this way...
And for the first time ever, I hate the little blonde bitch.

*hugs the beautiful, broken boys*

[tigriswolf]

*twirls* Thank you, sweetling!

[lunardreamed.livejournal.com]

And that’s the way it should be, Ellen tells Bobby at sunset, a few months after. John’s boys, out hunting…

Yes, it is.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

[fleshflutter.livejournal.com]

Oh you made me cry, and I'm at work and tears are not appropriate but... oh... That was just beautiful and tragic.

[tigriswolf]

Aww, thank you! *offers tissue*

[ysbail.livejournal.com]

You've made me cry so hard - I don't know why I read stories that warn of 'character death' - I can't handle it, but when they're this good they deserve to be read and the tears be damned.

You've said so much in so few words.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you!

[vesuvianite.livejournal.com]

Nice... I especially liked this bit:

Dean doesn’t make a sound. Jo watches with wide, excited eyes. Gordon curses and grunts, and Dean wants him dead.

You painted the picture very succinctly, without being explicit, yet it was completely clear what was going on. Brava.

[tigriswolf]

I'm glad that came through! I don't like being explicit.

Thank you for reading!

[kuhekabir.livejournal.com]

I am crying now. Thank you.

[tigriswolf]

You're welcome!

[lark_ascends]

*whimpers*

[tigriswolf]

Hey, why you whimperin'? Is it that bad? *droops*

[lark_ascends]

It's great - but it hurts!! Oh, boys. *whimpers for them*

[tigriswolf]

*ducks head*

Thank you for reading!

[soxykitty.livejournal.com]

Aw that was so terribly sad... but it was a great ficlet. I normally hate reading deathfics because they just make me so sad, but I can't help but read everything you write.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so much!

[braveinnewworld.livejournal.com]

Okay, one of my most favorite endings ever. It's kind of chilling to think that people you think are still out there somewhere have in fact been long dead and you'll never know. And I love how Bobby and Ellen spread the version of history they would have liked to see.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

[ewanspotter.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry I didn't leave comment on this before now. I just realized I had it saved on my computer.

Don't really have anything exciting to offer per se, just that this is extremely painful to read, but also amazing work (as usual). It packs one hell of a punch.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you!

[yaoi-anti-drug.livejournal.com]

Oh wow, I just love this...a twisted look on Jo, it's somehow absolutely perfect. And those last lines, that's how the show should end. With John's boys, out hunting. It really is the way it should be. Not off in the sunset with girlfriends like so many people want >< Anyways, loved this!

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so much!

I honestly don't think either of them could last in a relationship with anyone besides each other.

[reading-is-in.livejournal.com]

Hey I know you wrote this forever ago, but my research (on fanfic and discourse) is taking me through methodical paths of reading all fic featuring Gordon at the moment. I don't comment on all cos much was written a long time ago, but I feel like I should tell you this was really visceral and powerful. I got a lump in my throat and my face is all pouty like pouty!Sam. You're a great writer!

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so very much!

[reading-is-in.livejournal.com]

The real end of SPN has so got to be the boys die together in some permanent and legendary way. After which I will cry forever, but still.