But it's much too much emotion to hold it in your hand . . .
A well-worn copy of the first book of Game of Thrones with a bent cover and slightly yellowed pages. A coffee stain blots out a few of the words towards the final chapter. Lines are highlighted in neon pink, with doodles in the margins. Charlie drew herself as Daenerys, dragons swirling around her.
You can borrow it. Maybe you can convince Dean the book is better than the novel!
A faint trace of laughter, echoing off the bunker walls.
Faded pictures of a blonde haired mother he never knew. Her smile is beaming and even though the photo has aged over time, the sparkle in her eyes is still there. This is the woman whose death propelled them down their path. She'd been a hunter, tried to escape to normalcy but she still . . .
Mom loved you, Sam. She did.
A faint lullaby on the wind, a familiar tune that he can't quite place.
Pink sparkles. Glitter glue. Cursive words sliding upwards over white construction paper. His first Valentine's Day card, a gift given to him by the only girl he ever truly loved. Her soft skin brushing against his as she handed to him.
I know it's cheesy, but . . . I just wanted to tell you how I felt.
Jessica Moore had been the only girl to ever say that she loved him. Fully. Truly, Completely.
So many memories in the palm of his hand. So many different lives he could've led, but now here they are, reduced to trinkets in a cardboard box. It's days like these, when the grief starts to bubble up to the surface, when he wakes up with a dark cloud over his head, that he needs to ground himself. The memories aren't painful. But the people associated to them are.
Charlie, Jess, his mom . . . their blood is on his hands.
"Sam?"
Dean crouches next to him and places a warm hand on Sam's shoulder. He sees the box, knows what kind of day it is.
"It's okay, Sam."
And together, they sit there, relieving the painful past and building a hopeful future.
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carisma_sensei
Filled: Line 'Em Up
Date: 2016-05-06 08:06 pm (UTC)A well-worn copy of the first book of Game of Thrones with a bent cover and slightly yellowed pages. A coffee stain blots out a few of the words towards the final chapter. Lines are highlighted in neon pink, with doodles in the margins. Charlie drew herself as Daenerys, dragons swirling around her.
You can borrow it. Maybe you can convince Dean the book is better than the novel!
A faint trace of laughter, echoing off the bunker walls.
Faded pictures of a blonde haired mother he never knew. Her smile is beaming and even though the photo has aged over time, the sparkle in her eyes is still there. This is the woman whose death propelled them down their path. She'd been a hunter, tried to escape to normalcy but she still . . .
Mom loved you, Sam. She did.
A faint lullaby on the wind, a familiar tune that he can't quite place.
Pink sparkles. Glitter glue. Cursive words sliding upwards over white construction paper. His first Valentine's Day card, a gift given to him by the only girl he ever truly loved. Her soft skin brushing against his as she handed to him.
I know it's cheesy, but . . . I just wanted to tell you how I felt.
Jessica Moore had been the only girl to ever say that she loved him. Fully. Truly, Completely.
So many memories in the palm of his hand. So many different lives he could've led, but now here they are, reduced to trinkets in a cardboard box. It's days like these, when the grief starts to bubble up to the surface, when he wakes up with a dark cloud over his head, that he needs to ground himself. The memories aren't painful. But the people associated to them are.
Charlie, Jess, his mom . . . their blood is on his hands.
"Sam?"
Dean crouches next to him and places a warm hand on Sam's shoulder. He sees the box, knows what kind of day it is.
"It's okay, Sam."
And together, they sit there, relieving the painful past and building a hopeful future.