Moments in Space and Time - SN fic - PG13

[tigriswolf]

So, yeah. I went through this phase, right? Where I created two other LJ and fanfiction.net IDs. Unfortunately, one of the best things I’ve ever written was originally posted under one of those IDs and I never brought it over because I was sorta frightened I might be accused of plagiarizing myself. Which would be, you know, weird. 

 

Anyway. I’m over that now. So, here goes: 


Title: Moments in Time and Space
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer:  I did not create the boys, their parents, their past and future lovers, or their world. Eric Kripke is the founder of this fandom, my favorite so far. 
Warnings: Spoilers for the pilot and “Devil’s Trap”; AU after "Devil's Trap"
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: John/Mary
Wordcount: 880
Point of view: third

This is the end—

The sky is dark above you and the blade flashes silver in the moonlight. His eyes glow golden, the only part that you can see. You remember their normal color, the brilliant green—he speaks, but you don’t hear words, only tone.

Derision. Anger. And unholy joy. There is no remnant of your brother. Sammy is nowhere to be seen. Only the thing wearing his skin and a cold, cold dagger.

-

This is the beginning—

You and Mommy kiss Sammy goodnight, then Daddy tucks you in. He promises that tomorrow you’ll play catch and eat hot dogs, and Mommy will make peanut butter cookies, your favorite. He promises that he’ll take you to the zoo, to say hi to the tigers, the bestest kitties in the world.

You fall asleep thinking of teaching Sammy to throw a football and wake to Mommy’s scream.

-

This is the middle—

Sam glares at Dad, words hanging between them. You stand to the side, eyes going from one to the other, unable to choose.

Sam turns and walks out the door; after a moment, you follow. Dad watches you both go in silence, and you know there is no coming back from this.

-

This is the end—

The metal is cold against your cheek and you hear only your brother crying your name. In your memory, he begs forgiveness; that time, you healed. This time, you won’t.

You will always forgive him. He has always come first. But he never can forgive himself.

The blade bites into your shoulder, trails down, leaving fire and pain in its wake. You stare at the sky and make no sound. It is not for you that he does this. You are not the true victim here.

This torture is not for you, but instead your baby brother, screaming inside his own head.

-

This is the beginning—

You run from the house, Sammy slipping in your grasp. Daddy’s yell and the smoke chase you, and tears fill your eyes, because you know Mommy’s gone.

There will be no tigers, no cookies, no football, no hugs and no kisses—not for a long while.

You lie to Sammy and tell him everything will be okay, even though you know it won’t. Nothing will be okay, never ever, not again.

-

This is the middle—

Sam leaves at dawn, leaves with his bags and books, leaves with words screamed and whispered, leaves with words unsaid.

Sam leaves with a promise to never hunt again, an oath uttered in rage and pain, a vow you know he’ll break one day.

Sam leaves Dad and he leaves Mom’s memory, and in your mind, fire roars.

Sam leaves with your money hidden in one of his books, one last gift you hope he finds in time.

Sam leaves with two knives and one gun, because the training is too hard to shake so soon.

Sam leaves you.

-

This is the end—

The murmur is low, a chant you can’t make out. You no longer feel pain, only cold. You wonder how much blood you’ve lost, how much longer you’ll live.

Surviving the night was never an option, not after his eyes turned gold.

Your father fought off the possession long enough to save you, long enough for Sam to grab the gun. You’d always wondered how much he loved you, how much he saw you after Mom and the fire.

Enough to defeat the devil, even for a moment.

Sam’s fighting, that you know, but not enough.

The dagger is raised high above your face, glinting in the moonlight. Golden eyes shine out of the darkness.

You pick a star at random and smile.

“I forgive you.”

-

This is the beginning—

“Dean,” Mommy tells you while you eat eggs one morning, “You’re going to be a big brother.”

You take a sip of your milk and swear you’ll be the bestest big brother in the world.

Mommy ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead. “I know, baby,” she smiles at you. “I know you will.”

-

This is the middle—

You call Sam every six months but never leave a message. It’s enough to let him know you’re alive, healthy, and relatively sane.

He’s happy, with his normality. He’s happy at Stanford, happier than he can remember being, but you have memories of the little boy he used to be, and you know.

You know that he isn’t happy living a lie. But you know that he’ll continue to do so until he can’t anymore.

Lies are always found out, you know, and one day the sky will crash around him.

You wish it weren’t so.

You keep on calling until you break in and tell him the bad news.

-

This is the end—

There is one brief, last flash of pain. Then there is nothing but silence.

-

And golden eyes turn to green and a dark cloud is expelled and the silence is shattered by a piercing scream, a howling of denial and defiance.

But this is the end and there is no one to hear.

This is the end and there is no escape.

The moon watches, a lone spectator, until at last the sky itself weeps. 

Comments

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

Did you get that situation straightened out?

[astrothsknot.livejournal.com]

Oh, yeah. I just pointed out the email address for both accounts was the same and that was enough.