SPN One-Shots

Dean's Memory

Dean chugged. He swallowed hard and fast, the liquid leaving behind a faint sting as it went down, and he kept going. He drank until the bottle was as empty as he felt, hoping that it would replace the part of him he missed. He drank as if the contents of the bottle would make him forget what was really happening, what had happened, and everything he was about to face.

Forget it. He chanted this to himself as he was in the moment in his childhood so long ago. He was holding his brother in his arms as he watched everything he love burn. The six month old child would grow up never knowing just what that meant to him. His feet were soaking in the damp grass and his face was warm in the heat as his father rushed out of the house to save the family he had left. His face was pale, and he looked as if he had seen a ghost. And in a way, he did.

Forget it. Forget it. Dean was now at the door to Sam's apartment, a place neither of the brothers expected him to be. He recalled seeing Jessica, and Sam. Happy, college, normal kid, Sam. Not the boy he remembered growing up with, yet still somehow the same one he held in his arms all those years ago. Sam despised his nickname, but his older, protective brother refused to differ from Sammy. He watched Sam grieve the death of his serious girlfriend, and he watched Sam's heart fill with regret and anger, and this wasn't something he could protect his brother from.

You cant fix it, forget it. The chanting continued as the yellow eyed demon took their father. Dean watched his family do everything they could to save him. He watched from the point of no return, somewhere he never meant to come back from. He watched Sam try to talk to him in every way he could, and tried to scream at him, tell him not to let his father do it, but none of it worked. Current Dean couldn't change the actions of the past, but he tried.

Forget it. All of it. Dean watched the fire reflect of of Sam's eyes as they gave John the hunter's burial. He watched Sam grow up, finally, fully. They never really had much time to be kids even when it made sense, but Sam had always tried. He watched as Sam became fully aware and awake to everything that had happened, and the two began to realize how far they had come. Dean tried to yell into the past, to stop himself and his brother from continuing on the road they were on, but there was no stopping them now.

Nothing you could do. Forget it. He watched his brother look up at him, his mouth soaked in the blood of the corpse below him. Things had been happening, leading up to this point, but this was pushing him over the edge. Dean screamed at his memories to do something, anything, because that was only the beginning. Dean watched Sam exercise his powers, becoming stronger. He watched himself become more and more confused, empty, and wishing. Dean watched himself bury everything behind layers and layers of drinking, sex, smart-alek jokes, and the whole tough guy facade. He watched himself use all his energy thinking things through to the last detail, investing himself fully into every case and his brother so he wouldn't have to think about the demons inside. They were nothing like anything the two had ever hunted before.

Forget it. Damn it dean, just forget it. Dean watched his brother's eyes as he watched him die, and he was dragged slowly and painfully into hell. Dean watched the demons advance on him and shred him apart. He experienced the haunting pain all over again, and he watched himself resist. He watched himself resist for so long, so long he could hardly bear it. He was screaming at himself again. He was screaming until his throat was numb as he watched himself give in. He slammed his head on the Impala, not being able to stand it anymore. The memory flickered, and his mind was foggy.

He coughed, cried out, and slid sown into a sitting position next to the Chevy. "I have to forget, or else this all goes to hell..." he mumbled half heartedly. He leaned his head onto the slick black exterior of his car. He threw the bottle of hard whiskey, he had lost count of which one this was, and looked on at the cars in Bobby's yard. He heard faint screaming from his brother, knowing that this was for his own good. Dean didn't know how much more he could take of all of this. He couldn't protect Sam, he couldn't protect Jo and her mom, and he couldn't protect Bobby. Hell, he couldn't even save his own dad. His life was borrowed as it was, and he was having a hard time keeping it. Dean wasn't much one for hysterics, but at this very moment, everything came crashing down. He realized how no matter how hard he tried, things were always slipping through his fingers. He couldn't forget it all, and he couldn't forgive. He wanted to forgive others, but he was really only angry at himself. I was his fault he couldn't stop what happened to Sam, and it was his fault that he couldn't help everything after that. He was the big brother of the house, and he couldn't do it. He was chanting these words to himself over and over again as he stumbled towards Bobby's house for another drink. He had to forget. He just had to.

He was almost to the door when the familiar face of Castiel was right in front of him. His face contorted into that of worry, and Dean collapsed on the ground. He was still conscious, and Castiel was trying to hold him. Dean was staring at the stars, his face empty, his skin pale. He was mumbling something under his breath that Cas had a hard time understanding. He brought Dean's face closer to his and looked him straight in the eye, stern, and unmoving.

"Dean."

"Cas..." Dean could barely make it out, and then he smiled and started crying some more. Castiel didn't know what to do other than comfort his friend. He lifted him up and held his torso against his. He had never seen Dean like this, and hoped he never would again. Dean, for once, couldn't care less about the fact that he was letting his guard down in front of someone. In Dean's mind, everything was ruined and it was because of him. He didn't expect to live on for more that a day or two. Not that he planned on killing himself, he just felt as if this job was killing him. It felt to him as if everyday was eating at him from the inside out. He stared at the rain soaked ground as his chin rested on the Angel's shoulder. His arms hung limply at his sides and he could feel Castiel's hands strong on his upper back, holding him tightly. The two sat in near silence, the only sounds being distant rain and occasional yelling from the boy with demon blood. Dean tried to speak but Cas warned against it. Soon enough the angel was holding a man who would not dream tonight, and who would get a good nights rest, the best he's had in too long.