(no subject)

[weary_head]

Dean's body ached from the inside out, every last part of it wound so tight it was a wonder he had any strength left for walking, but walk Dean did. His feet had carried him to every part of the island at least twice, and now they'd brought him to the tree Sam had taken from the jungle and planted the last time Dean disappeared.

What, you made me into Arbor Day?

Sam hadn't smiled then, and Dean didn't smile now. Between Sam's screaming absence and Castiel's news, Dean wasn't sure he'd ever smile again. Not once, back home, not once had he taken Sam for granted, and on the island it'd taken all of a year to relax his guard, let himself reach for things that made him happy, and now his little brother was gone. Back to the worst of all possible futures, and Dean was as powerless to save him as a child.

He pushed his fingers over his eyes, holding back the panic as best he could. Sam was out there, fighting Lilith with only Ruby at his side, and Dean was in fucking Margaritaville. With a grunt of dissent, Dean walked forward, head shaking angrily from side to side. They hadn't been through all of this to be separated now.

The fistful of leaves tore easily away from the branch. Dean stalked north with his prize, to the place where the path split four ways. In times past, a left would have taken them to the baseball field where the both of them had played in a way they'd never been able to as children.

He punched rather than dug the hole in the ground.

When the last leaf was buried in the ground, Dean sat back on his haunches and waited. He didn't have anything left to barter with, even if a demon did come, but he had to know.

He had to know if this was truly done.

Comments

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Like a town crier was the sound of Dean returning. Every sound had Roger on edge, and when he looked out of his open door this time and saw the outline of his best friend, he tore off in that direction, guitar discarded onto his bed.

"Dean!" He called, unable to keep some of the relief from his voice. He was ripping into the sand in a way that was eerie, like bare hands into flesh, and Roger's brows met in the center of his forehead. "Dean, what are you doing?" His determination was the scrabble of the damned, and his mind went back to the conversation about being hellbound, ticking clocks. Robert Johnson. He still didn't piece it together.

"Hey!" He bellowed in a ditch effort to grab his attention.

[loaded-wolf.livejournal.com]

Angua didn't know if she should give Dean space, or not. He'd certainly been opposed to every bit of comfort anyone had tried to give him over the past few days, he would hardly even look at her, and part of her wanted to distance herself in some form of self preservation. It would hurt less if it was her choice, right?

Except she couldn't, he was too important, and too much of her wanted to reach out, even if he refused it.

She'd let him leave when they got back, but she was scared and so she followed him. He was easy to find.

"Dean? What are you doing?" she asked, voice hushed.

[babyviper.livejournal.com]

O-Ren had woven her existence in the search for Sam in and out, knowing she was faster, better on her own. She'd return only to the group of them when she needed reassurance that they were still there.

...no, maybe it was the presence of that kind of grief that would scatter her back into the trees. Her stomach twisted itself into knots, and she held onto her sense of order and sanity as tightly as she could. Maybe she'd go find Sweets, she thought. The last thing anyone needed was for her to have an attack.

But there was no denying the haunted look in Dean's eyes, so she turned into his shadow as best she could as he did-- something with the leaves.

[little_moons]

"The fuck are you doin'?" I mutter. No accusation, no worry or anger or anything else in my voice. Just exhaustion, but nowhere near as much exhaustion as I can see in the set of his shoulders. I've been banging around the island for two days... with him, with Bobby and Ellen, with whoever the hell else I felt like I could be of help to at the time.

I'm tired. I wanna go home. I can't. Not yet.

[off-the-ceiling.livejournal.com]

Jess felt like she was wandering more than searching now, exhausted and a bit bruised up from pushing her way into places she was never meant to go and still wandering up and down paths looking, looking everywhere, waiting for that moment when she saw that familiar stance, those familiar hands, those familiar eyes.

It wasn't a surprise when she came across Dean instead; since the moment Sam had first disappeared, Jess hadn't really strayed far.

"Why isn't there something to shoot?" she said. "I could do that. I'm ready for that."

[devilwoman]

The last time Dean disappeared, Saffron had found Sam in the Hub and had gotten drunk with him. This time, Sam was the one who was gone and she found she couldn't drink, maybe because of before, when the situation had been reversed.

They'd been there for each other through some gorram tough times, and now she couldn't imagine him not on the island.

Saffron only had a vague idea of what Dean and Sam and their daddy and all them did where they came from, but she had a feeling whatever Dean was doing, burying something in the ground, had something to do with it. "What's the hole for, honey?" she asked, quiet, weary from the crying she'd been doing off and on for the past couple of days.

[steel-singer.livejournal.com]

A crossroads, a hole dug in the ground, a hopeful person waitin' for the demon to appear to make the deal. Bobby didn't have to ask to know what Dean was doin'. It was the same thing he'd done before to bring Sam back, and Bobby still remembered openin' the door to find Sam standin' there, thankin' Bobby for patchin' him up like it had been no big deal. You stupid ass! he'd yelled at Dean, out among the junked cars in his yard.

He wasn't doin' no yellin' now. Wouldn't do anyone any good. So he just went and stood a little off to the side, where Dean could see him if he wanted to talk, and waited for the Crossroads Demon that was never showin' up.