and let the dark come upon you
Jan. 23rd, 2008 04:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ultraviolet9a >> and let the dark come upon you
TITLE: and let the dark come upon you
AUTHOR: ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: for everything
ultraviolet9aSPOILER: for everything
GENRE: gen
CHARACTERS: Dean-centric.
SUMMARY: Dean is waiting.
RATING: PG
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the sandbox, nor the sand. The shovel, however, is mine.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the sandbox, nor the sand. The shovel, however, is mine.
NOTE: for winchesters132. I chose the moods hyper (surprise, surprise) and sick. This one is for hyper.
winchesters132. I chose the moods hyper (surprise, surprise) and sick. This one is for hyper.NOTE2: beta by lovely girlfan1979
girlfan1979I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.
~T.S.Eliot.
“East Coker” (from Four Quartets)
Dean thought he’d take the waiting calm.
“Sammy. Don’t be here.”
“Dean…”
“Sammy. No. Don’t be here. I don’t want you here.”
And it’s his time, so Dean has his way, even with someone so stubborn as Sam, because Dean won’t budge. He’s had his own heart broken, he’s always the one left behind (smell of burning and mommy gone, watching Sam’s back as he stepped into the Greyhound without hesitation or backward glance, Cassie and the door slamming shut, dad on the pyre), and he’ll be damned before he lets Sam witness it. The leaving. Ever.
It’s nice and quiet. Easy wind moving the rye, and Dean thought he’d be cool and stoic, because, well, he is cool and can be stoic, and hell, it was his choice, wasn’t it? He chose it. And still doesn’t regret it, and the belief in this one choice is already crystallized in him like a small tight pearl.
So theoretically he should be still.
But he’s fidgeting.
He clasps his hands to keep them from keeping a beat on his thighs, and when those are still, and the soles of his boots firmly on ground and not flapping up and down, when he thinks he’s managed the calm wait of the hunter instilled by his life with dad, he realizes that he’s rocking back and forth. There are small humming sounds from his mouth, Dean’s version of a Metallica mix thrumming against his vocal cords, and it stuns him, stuns him and robs him of the calm he wished he possessed in him, of the calm he’s had all along cuz all of this has been his choice.
He can’t. Jesus freaking Christ, he hasn’t felt this hyper since that time he inhaled pixie dust and the world felt like what Woodstock must have been like, an explosion of colours and energy and good music. Oh yeah. Suddenly he feels nostalgic for an era he’s never lived in, an era that belonged to his dad and cradled his mother, and he wonders (can’t help wondering really, his mind fidgeting in tandem with his body) what would have happened if the demon had picked another little boy in a crib, a nursery room far away from Lawrence, Kansas.
And God, he can’t stand still. His mind is whirring, his whole life a set of photographs, tied on a string and flying past him, and Dean can’t. Can’t be calm. Can’t be still, as if all his life, all his potential for life is pent up, squeezed into these last hours minutes seconds and he doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want to die, he’s not an idiot, but he wants life for Sam more than he wants it for himself, and he’ll have it, he’ll have as much of it as he can, Sam promised and Dean can deal with the lack of peace, he’ll have to deal because it’s Sammy, it’s always about blood and love and Sammy.
Sunset comes, and he’s a chord vibrating on the tense fingers of time, and the stars seem to fizz and sparkle above him as vibrant as ever, and Dean thinks the world never looked more alive, more beautiful than when he’s dying and he can, he can do this, he can, he can be calm, and he can’t pray to Sam’s God, but he can pray to his father and mother and hope they’ll listen to their weary son and love him even from afar, and he can, he can do it, even as tears ran down his face.
Sunset goes. And then Sam is there and tears are streaking his face, and in that one moment Dean knows Sam has found a way.
Stillness washes over him. Dean closes his eyes.
He lives.
-The End.
SIDENOTE: Title taken from same poem as the small quote in the beginning of this fic, only from an earlier line:
I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you
Which shall be the darkness of God.
Dude. I can’t help it. I’ve written a paper on this poem. I can not not love it. It’s impossible.
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 03:34 pm (UTC)Can’t be still, as if all his life, all his potential for life is pent up, squeezed into these last hours minutes seconds and he doesn’t want to die
This gutted me. How time stretches far so much more than the sum of minutes or seconds. It makes everything cristal clear.
I love it.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 03:37 pm (UTC)(Oh heath. :( :( :( I can't believe I'm so affected by it.)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 03:36 pm (UTC)Oh, Dean...
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 03:38 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading.
yes...
Date: 2008-01-23 03:51 pm (UTC)and dean lasts until then...
Re: yes...
Date: 2008-01-24 01:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 03:57 pm (UTC)Ohmygosh.
That's all I got. Wonderful -- thank you.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 04:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 04:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:25 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 05:14 pm (UTC)Oh, Dean. You are damned. *sobs*
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:26 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 05:59 pm (UTC)This image will be with me for a while:
he’s a chord vibrating on the tense fingers of time...
Stunning.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:27 pm (UTC)And yei, that image I'm happy about too.
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 06:39 pm (UTC)Also, I love this description:
Sunset comes, and he’s a chord vibrating on the tense fingers of time
Very nice.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 07:41 pm (UTC)Yes. Sam will save him and Dean can finally be still, if only for that one, long moment when he is finally free. I think I need a hanky now ... but in a good, the very best, of ways. *HUGS you sooooooooo tight*
Thank you for your gift of beauty. Saving this to mems.
~ Erin
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:29 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading, sweetie.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 08:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:29 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 08:35 pm (UTC)Stillness washes over him. Dean closes his eyes.
And Dean is still. Still is. Is still. And yes, and that could be a story in and of itself and I might have to take off with that play on words, if that's okay with you. Because yes. Dean is still.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:30 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading. And yes, dammit, Dean gets to live.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-23 11:07 pm (UTC)And I love the way that you write Dean. He's noble and tough and, gosh, just everything he should be.
*squishes you*
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:32 pm (UTC)Yeah, Dean's my dark grimy gritty knight, but a knight nonetheless.
On occasion I do have faith in mankind. :)
Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:33 pm (UTC)Uhm.
Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 12:31 am (UTC)The Metallica revelation hurt beyond words and, this line...
Sunset comes, and he’s a chord vibrating on the tense fingers of time
Just gorgeous!
Thank-you for saving Dean... I was so caught up in this, his death would likely have destroyed me and I'd have had to explain my grief to an eye-rolling hubby once he came home. As it is, the tears still welled and fell.
I loved this story and, if it's all right with you, I'm going to place it in my memories.
After Heath (and even young Brad Renfro, though sadly that came with little surprise), saving Dean was needed right now. For many of us.
Thank-you.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:04 am (UTC)How much the reader can simply be in Dean's body, sympathise with his tension.
Sunset comes, and he’s a chord vibrating on the tense fingers of time
And how this isn't your first language I will never know.
This is an incredible piece. Thank you for sharing, and for the sneak peak.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:36 pm (UTC)And *glee* I'm kinda happy with the level of my English, you know? Considering my mothertongue is Greek.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 02:37 am (UTC)Thank you for this one.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:37 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 03:22 am (UTC)Thanks for a last-minute save. *g*
Oh, Dean. *sob*
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:39 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 05:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 06:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 07:30 am (UTC)I love this! Very Dean.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-24 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 07:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-25 11:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-26 02:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 01:26 pm (UTC)