the fires were built on the highest peak, in hopes they’d see the light - SN fic - R

[tigriswolf]

Title: the fires were built on the highest peak, in hopes they’d see the light
Fandom: "Supernatural"

Disclaimer: Brittany’s mine. And her family. And that guy she makes out with. That’s it. Title from “Jacob’s Dream,” performed by Allison Krauss.

Warnings: um… somewhat disturbing?   Manipulative sex.  Fairly dark.

Pairings: Dean/OFC, implied Dean/Sam, OFC/OMC

Rating: R

Wordcount: 705

Point of view: third

Notes: written for the darkdeanficathon, to the prompt of why Dean’s eyes bled.

Dedication: to the awesome tru_faith_lostfor giving this a looksie even though it ain’t exactly her cup of hot chocolate.

 

   

         Her eyes were bright blue, like the sky. Her smile was beautiful, full of life and light. She told him to call her Brittany, and he knew it wasn’t her name. 

            But it was okay, because he told her to call him Danny.

 

            She was a good person, a high-school senior with perfect grades and perfect attendance. She had a little sister and an older brother, two parents married for twenty-nine years, and a future. 

            Dean believed everything she said, because he could read the truth in her eyes, and nice girls don’t lie.

 

            Brittany never had sex before that night in the Impala. She was a good girl, and good girls saved themselves for marriage. 

            She told him that her husband would have red hair and green eyes—she’d seen him in her dreams. Dean told her that he’d never have a wife.

           

            She called him Danny and whimpered when she came. He bit deep into her shoulder and pretended she was someone else, someone harder, someone taller with dark hair and green eyes, someone who was a country away and never looked back.

            She sobbed in his arms, after, and asked if she was going to Hell. Dean didn’t answer, just fingered her ’til she came a second time.

 

            Her brother’s name was Cal, and he was a marine. Her little sister went by Catie, and she was a freshmen cheerleader.

            Dean didn’t say anything about his brother or his father, just kissed her again.

 

            They only spent that one night together and he didn’t see her for three weeks.  But then there she was on the street one afternoon, hair golden in the sunlight, and he had to have her again.

            So he parked down the block and tailed her to the movie theater, where she met up with some brunet boy, slipped her dainty little hand into his, and walked in side-by-side. 

            Instead of the movie, Dean watched them. His pretty little virgin wasn’t a virgin anymore, and she seemed to be reveling in it. She was practically in the kid’s lap, all roaming hands and questing tongue, and Dean wanted.

            After the film, the boy walked her home. They made out some more, beneath the shadows of the giant oak in the backyard. 

            Everything Dean claimed left him in the end, he realized by light of the cold moon. It was time to start rectifying that.

 

            The brunet’s name was Charlie Lincoln, and he lived just down the road from the apartment Dean and Dad had for the duration of the hunt.

             A hint couldn’t get much more blatant than that, so Dean took it.

 

            Charlie Lincoln was found outside of town two mornings later, mangled and bloody. They were only able to identify him by his teeth.

            Brittany came crawling back to Dean, begging him to make her feel better. So he did, with rough hands and brutal kisses, and she wept in thanks.

 

            Her eyes weren’t quite so blue when dawn came, but her hair was still golden. Her smile wasn’t so bright, but her lips still felt warm beneath his.         

            “You’re mine,” he whispered in her ear, soft and low, and she moaned, twisting in his grip.

            There were bruises on her pale skin, marking her, branding her, and he claimed her again with his mouth. He imagined it was someone else beneath him, someone who never should have left—someone who would probably never be back.

            When she whimpered and begged, he just bit harder.

 

            A week after, he and Dad left town. Dean didn’t tell her goodbye, didn’t give a single indication that the last night was any different from the seven others. He didn’t look back as he followed Dad’s truck in the Impala.

 

You killed him, Bloody Mary hissed in his mind. You killed the girl, too, slaughtered her innocence with your bruising touch.

Blood trickled down his cheeks. He could feel Charlie’s face against his fists again, could hear the boy’s sobbing gasps.  

            Murderer, the dead woman snarled. Monster. You don’t deserve to live, not with your sins.

            He saw the mirror and he picked it up, without an ounce of regret; in his mind, there was nothing but quiet, and Sam’s harsh breath. 

 

Comments

[tru-faith-lost.livejournal.com]

Heh! You thinked ya could sneak it in while I was slinking off to bed. But I am sly oh masked wonder... You already know what I think. LOL. Awesome chica!

Tracy

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so much!

[thelonejuliet.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow.

It's very rare that stories (of any kind) make me think and I'm thinking. You have me thinking. Kudos.

That's just...wow...I think that's all I can say.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so much!

[leonidaslion.livejournal.com]

Oh man, this was awesome! And so cool to see my prompt up and about so soon! ::dances::

I love that it's Dean's need to keep something for himself that drives him to kill: it isn't really about the girl at all, as you make quite clear here. It's something that he never quite dared to do with Sammy the first time around ... and the way you ended it, with him not regretting, and that feel that, if the situation arises again, he won't hesitate to keep Sam with him the same way, is just perfect.

If that made any kind of sense whatsoever: I tend to get rambly when I think meta-ish thoughts. Anyway, I loved it!

[tigriswolf]

I'm glad you like it!

Thank you for reading!

[sam-deangirl123.livejournal.com]

Wow .. that was good i lyk ur reason .. i always wondered why deans eyes bled all i can say is WOW .ox chelsss

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

[sadelyrate.livejournal.com]

You know, your version(s?) of Dean?
Have that wonderfully subtle quality of psychotic personality written in 'em. I know for a fact that someone commented once how it's a wonder the boys seem so...normal. That they aren't screwed in the head badly enough to light up on the radar of other 'normal' people.

What I'm probably trying to say is that your Deans are creepy as hell when they get in the right mood.
And at the same time, so very Dean...
*hugs the boy, even if he does have the Bowie knife nearby*

[tigriswolf]

Aww, don't worry. He wouldn't kill _you_.

And thank you!

[guardianangel-x.livejournal.com]

Dude.
You know, alot of your fics make me slightly frightened of Dean, LOLZ... but not enough to stop lovin him! hehehe

Awesome, as usual! :D

*air high five*

[tigriswolf]

*high fives back* Thank you!

[lynzibell.livejournal.com]

At first I was kind of appauled of your scary Dean, but now I kind of like him. He's just kind of snapped I guess. And it also goes into why the FBI thinks he's a bit of a sick f**k. It kind of makes sense if you think about it. Great fic! Thanks for writing!

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

[ainaria.livejournal.com]

I liked this a lot, very good. I loved how you can still recognize Dean. I should def watch Bloody Mary again.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!