Epiphany - SN fic - PG13

[tigriswolf]

Title: Epiphany
Fandom: SN
Disclaimer: Not my characters.  Just for fun.
Warnings: sometime in the future
Pairings: none stated
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 386
Point of view: second

 

“He’s not John’s son and you know it.”

The words echo around the cavern and golden eyes stare out of the darkness. Different night, different room, different bed—same dream. Same dream for a month and you never can wake from it; it has to play out, identically, every single time.

NotDad steps forward into the soft light, eyes still glowing. He moves fluidly, like a panther; like Dad and yet… not. Something off, besides the eyes.

“Of course he’s Dad’s son,” you reply, like every time before.

NotDad chuckles. “Denial is so amusing in you pathetic humans, boy. It’ll be amusing till the day it kills you, and then it becomes fucking hysterical.”

Same words, same tone; you know you can’t be creating this yourself, with your fears and subconscious—it’s The Demon, still fucking with you. Still fucking with you after It was defeated and erased from existence.

NotDad smirks and steps even closer, in your personal space, and leans into you, mouth an inch from yours.

And this is different. The dream is deviating, changing. What little control you had is slipping through your fingers.

“Did you think I’d die so soon, so easy? So quickly?” NotDad laughs, and it twines around you, that laughter, booming off the walls. The light fades until you can only see golden eyes. “Silly boy,” he whispers and is gone.

-

Your dreams always come true. And every night for a month, NotDad has told you Dean is not your father’s son.

But The Demon is dead. Dad killed It. Completely, utterly, in every way possible. It can’t be sending you dreams from beyond the grave, because It has none.

But your dreams never lie.

-

You don’t answer Dean’s questions—of course he knows something’s wrong—and you dread falling asleep. But you can’t avoid your dream—nightmare—forever and It’s waiting for you, with Dad’s face.

And the words echo around the cavern, the words you’ll never speak in light of day, the sentence you’ll never question Dad or Dean about, because Mom was probably the only one who knew—if even she did.

“He’s not your father’s son, Sammy, and you know it.” The voice—Dad’s—lashes out from the darkness and you cannot escape it. “Surely, you’ve noticed… sometimes, his eyes are golden.”

Part 2: Inferno

Comments

[tigriswolf]

I'm always writing.

Do you mean in this particular universe? Probably not.

[belleimani.livejournal.com]

Well yeah.
Oh...
Well, I look forward to reading what else you come up with!

[tigriswolf]

I never know, though. I do usually try to write oneshots, because I’m good at those. Long, involved plots only work in my head—they lose something when I try to write them down.

But Sammy is quite easy to torture… hmm. NotJohn may not be done.

Well. I may have to go write something now.

Hope you're happy. Not like I don't have too much to do already.

[belleimani.livejournal.com]

I love NotJohn. Actually I love both John's.
And Sam torture is always fun.
Hee. Sorry I gave you another bunny!
::not sorry at all::