Hellatus Thoughts

Last week the unthinkable happened
Dean Winchester died in his brother's arms after being brutally stabbed by
being brutally stabbed by Metatron. Before he died our hero
said to Sam "I'm proud of us" . I ain't gonna lie
folks.  That episode did me in. I was simply not
okay. I felt in those last five minutes that I had
really lost someone I loved. And I have.  I lost
Dean Winchester. My hero. The cocky boy who
drives a hot car and saves the world. The sweet
big brother who would move heaven and hell
to save his brother. The man who doesn't realize
that in saving Sammy and the world, he saved ME
So where do I go from here? Because the fictional love of
my life is dead and reborn as a demon. I am truly grieving
as in real grief. I am crying and losing sleep.  I am plagued
with nightmares. I am consumed with thoughts of
why? I am basically devastated. And yet I am amazed
at Supernatural. I am still so on love with this show. It has
given me hope and courage and sometimes enough
meaning to keep going a little while longer.I have
experienced denial, anger and bargaining:begging
the writers to fix my broken heart. So I
I'm stuck here in the depression stage. So broken
and unsure if what's going to happen. Fortunately for
me I've been blessed to have some of the best
friends I've ever had thanks to my boys and social
media.And we encourage each other.We're lovingly
getting each other through.We say we're proud
of us because we are. We are a little Supernatural
family. And if not for them I'm not sure I'd have
made it to this side of the week. I have no idea
where we're heading. I know I'll love Dean demon
or not. I want him back so bad it physically hurts.
And I am not looking forward to those emerald
green eyes going dark.  But he's still Dean so hr
gets my heart. Once upon a con the very beautiful and
awesome Jensen Ackles held me close and said very
softly to a visably shaking and crying me "You're
okay". I'm not right now but I hear him say that
and I working on it.

Just a little Mother's Day ficlet...

Remembering

“Sam, could you please just stop.”, Dean growled. Sam looked up from his research with a surprised look. He hadn’t been aware he was doing anything to stop.

“Sorry? What?”, he asked. Dean gave him an eyebrow raise and look that clearly meant dude-you-know-what-you’re-doing. But Sam didn’t. He refused to let this go.

“Dean, what? What was I doing?”

“Beating on the  table? How do you expect anyone to get anything done?”

"You Okay?" This was dangerous territory where his brother was concerned.

“I’m fine Sammy.” Ah. The typical Dean answer which could mean anything from I’m fine to I’m near death here but I don’t want you to know. Sam put his pencil down and stood up. He walked to the coffee pot. “Ok. Just checking. You need more?”, he asked holding up his cup. Dean responded by holding his own cup out to Sam without reply. Sam moved to take it and Dean looked up, their eyes locking for just a moment and then Dean returned to his research. It could be a long day, Sam thought to himself. He filled the cups, added cream and sugar and placed Dean’s by his elbow. He returned to the laptop on the other side of the table. Dean reached for a folder and the coffee cup went flying and crashed to the floor, splattering Dean as it went. He jumped up.

“Son of a bitch Sam!”he snarled. He moved to the sink to grab a towel and began gingerly picking up broken mug pieces. Sam jumped up and tried to help but Dean snatched a large jagged shard  up before San could reach it.

“Dean, I’m just trying to help.” He reached for the towel and again Dean snatched it away.

“I don’t need any help !” Dean was angry and in that growled response Sam heard, at least not from you. He tried to remember how Dean had felt recently about things he’d said and decided to not listen to that inner voice. He stood up to get another towel and as he took a step away his brother hissed and swore under  his breath. Sam turned back to see blood pouring down Dean’s arm.

“Dean!” He dropped to his knees beside his brother and grabbed the hand before Dean could pull it away. He opened it up and removed the shard of ceramic coffee cup to reveal a long jagged cut. It was bleeding badly and he knew it hurt because Dean was breathing rather rapidly. “That’s going to need cleaning and stitching bro.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah”. He tried unsuccessfully to get to his feet. Truth be told he felt a little dizzy. Sam slipped an arm under his right elbow and pulled him upright, guided him to a chair. He took the towel in his hand and pressed it to the cut.

“Hold that.” He directed as he left the kitchen for the  first aid kit. Dean pressed the towel to his left hand and tried not to look at the blood. It reminded him suddenly of his right hand being covered in blood after killing Abbadon and then other bleeding moment memories began crowding in. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the table. He just didn’t want to walk down memory lane.Not today. Don’t remember Dean. Don’t remember. He kept repeating this to himself silently, grateful when Sam returned.

Sam pulled his chair close to Dean’s. putting the first aid kit on the table. He rested his hand on the back of Dean’s neck and squeezed.”Hey, you with me?” Dean picked up his head, revealing pain filled green eyes.

“I’m here. Just a little dizzy.” He allowed Sam to remove the towel from his hand, wincing as it was cleaned with peroxide and sat patiently as Sam began to stitch. He could focus on that. He wouldn’t have to think about anything else. He’d give anything to not remember, to not feel. So he focused on Sam’s small neat stitches and pulled himself together.

“All done. Ten stitches Dean. At least it’s your left hand.” He gently dabbed antibiotic cream over the cut and covered it with a bandage. He returned the supplies to the kit and closed it with a snap. He then jumped up and finished cleaning up the spilled coffee. Then he filled a glass with water and handed it to Dean who was still quiet along with two painkillers. “Take those.” Dean swallowed the pills and drank some of the water.

“Thanks Sammy”, he almost whispered. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He got up and patted his brother on the shoulder with his good hand. “I think I’ll lie down for a little bit.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll wake you up for lunch.” Dean nodded and left the kitchen. Sam finished cleaning up and as he stopped before putting the trash in the can. He glanced at the calendar. Crap.Mother’s Day. Generally Sam tried to divert his brother’s attention when this day rolled around. He remembered how Dad refused to acknowledge it and frequently left them at Pastor Jim’s that weekend. No wonder Dean was so short tempered. Thirty one years of being cheated out of having mom around still wasn’t easier for Dean. Sam could be okay. Sam didn’t know  the difference. But Dean remembered and all Dean’s memories were deep. Sam washed his hands and dried them on his jeans as he hurried to his brother’s room. He knocked on the door frame but got no answer. Dean was lying on his side, cradling the hurt hand close to his chest and Sam’s heart hurt a little at how young and sad he looked. He walked to the opposite side of the bed and crouched down. He realized tears were flowing down Dean’s face. Tucked under the hand his brother was holding was the old black and white photo of Dean and Mom. Sam touched Dean’s face gently stopping tears from falling.

“Dean. I’m sorry.I forgot. I didn’t mean to. It’s just it doesn’t mean the same thing to me, you know?”

“No. I’m sorry Sam. I just tried so hard not to think about it. About her. I’m afraid, she …might…not …be…”

Sam sat down on the bed close to Dean. “Might not be what?” he asked starting to card his fingers through Dean’s hair.

“Might not be …proud of me…” That Dean thought this broke Sam’s heart. How could he fix this?

“Dean. Of course she would. You are brave and you’ve done way more good than bad. And I know she’d be so proud of how you have always taken care of me .Because you have  Dean. I didn’t know Mom. I wish I did. And Dad. He ..didn’t. .. it was you who was everything Dean, both parents. Don’t get me wrong. I loved Dad. And I’m sure he did everything he could, as best he could. But Dean, God everything a mom was supposed to do for school. Or making dinner…everything. You just took over and did it. From the time you were four years old. I’m not saying I didn’t wish I had a mom, a regular family. I did. You know I did. But I never felt unloved or not taken care of. Hell, I even had you to rebel against. You were the most  over protective parent ever man. Not proud of you? Don’t go there Dean. Of course she would be.”

“Sammy? Are you trying to wish me a happy Mother’s Day?” Sam noticed the trace of teasing in his brother’s voice. He stopped stroking Dean’s hair.He slipped back down to a crouch so he could look at his brother’s face.

“Yes Dean. I’m wishing you a Happy Mother’s Day. For everything.” He smiled and because Dean could never resist those dimples, he smiled back.

“Thanks Sam”he said. Sam reached for the picture and they looked at it together for a minute or two.

“Dean, I know it hurts to remember .Because she’s gone. But I think maybe if you do remember instead of burying it, it’ll make it easier. And you can keep the good and maybe get past that night.”

Dean looked up at Sam from the picture. “You may be right little brother. Maybe I can do that sometime. But not today. Today I’m just thankful I have you Sammy. You’re my whole fanily. “ Sam grasped Dean’s right hand.

“I know. Dean she loved you. “

Dean squeezed Sam’s hand tight. “She loved you too Sam. “

“I know.I do. Because you never let me forget.”

The brothers stopped talking and looked at the picture again. Dean looked back at Sam . He didn’t know what they were facing in the future but Sam was here with him. And it was enough. Memories of Sam suddenly flooded his mind, in rapid succession.Dean realized he could remember things and not be sad or hurt. He closed his eyes, still holding his brother’s hand. Thamk you Mom, he thought, thank you for Sam.