Title: The Note
Rating: T (language and character death)
Summary: AU. Dean realizes that there's only one way to end the pain he's feeling inside after "Devil's Trap." So, he grabs a gun and writes a note.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but you already knew that, didn't you? Aren't you smart?
The Note
Everything they've ever told you is a lie. They don't have all the answers. You're not even safe in your own home. I learned that the hard way. So many years ago, I was happy. I was normal. I played tee-ball and had friends. My parents loved me. I was human. I was wanted.
A single fire changed all of that for me. My mother left. She never came back. My perfect life was changed, destroyed. My father left in a way, too. He never came back, either.
My whole life changed on November 2, 1983. I was four years old, mourning my mother, and my father began the crusade. I joined him whole-heartedly. I believed it would make him happy. I thought it would make him better again.
I don't regret throwing everything away. I did it for my father's love. I never found the loving man I remembered, but I found a role model just the same. I looked up to him, and he taught me things, like how to kill. And I killed. I killed a lot.
I've seen things in my life that would make most people scream in fright. You think I'm lying? Steve Irwin wouldn't even go up against some of the shit I've faced. See, nightmares are real, and I should know that better than anyone else.
After the fire that took my parents, my innocence, I had nightmares, bad ones, too. I was all alone, and it was dark, and I called out for someone, anyone, but no one came. No one cared.
I still have those nightmares. Or, I guess, I had them. If you're reading this note, it means I'm dead. I went off to see my mom and try to find that unattainable peace I've always wanted in my life. I did it because that nightmare came true. I did it because I was alone and nobody cared.
My brother left for college when I was about 23. He never looked back, never returned my calls, and completely forgot about me. That was OK, though, because he was happy and I told myself that he deserved it. Never mind what I deserved. I still had what was left of dad, right?
Not for long. He left, too, three years later. He didn't tell me where he was going or when he'd be back. He didn't even say good-bye. I waited for him, though, right where he'd left me. I waited for two weeks, calling him constantly before I realized that he wasn't coming back. He had left me alone. He didn't want me anymore.
I did the only thing I could think of. I went to find my brother. He didn't want anything to do with me, but I conned him into coming with me. We had fun searching for our father, we really did, but that didn't change anything. He didn't want to stay with me. He wanted to go back to that normalcy he'd always wanted. He shoved me away.
I had to save him. I went back to his apartment to beg him to… I dunno. Come with me? Let me stay with him? Anything to stave off the chilling loneliness in my life. It doesn't matter now, though. What matters is that I pulled him out of that fire and saved his life. Just like when he was a baby.
He stayed with me then. He had nothing better to do, and I just needed companionship. We met some interesting people and did some interesting things on our little road trip, a trip which we took in my '67 Impala, the only constant thing in my life. He even met one of my old girlfriends. He criticized me for 'sleeping around.' He didn't know why I did it. I guess now I can tell him, if he cares enough to read this.
I did it because it involved someone else. I was close to someone when we made love. She wrapped her arms around me and told me she loved me and I knew that I could leave first thing in the morning. I wouldn't have to watch her walk away from me. I could do the leaving for once in my life.
That's why. Happy now, College Boy?
We found our mother again, in Lawrence, where she'd died. You think that isn't possible, but it is, because nightmares are real. That meeting with my mother proved that to me.
She appeared, so beautiful and pure, and I knew she'd wrap her arms around me and tell me not to be afraid just like she had before the fire. But she didn't. She said my name, she looked at me, and she walked right on by. She talked to my brother more.
It hurt, but I couldn't let anyone know, so I stored it away. Here it is, coming out again. She wasn't the only person to leave and pop back into my life. Not by a long shot.
My father came back. He finally answered my calls. I wasn't dying this time, but he came to the rescue. I knew things would be better, I knew we could be a family, even if my brother was threatening to leave.
But dad beat him to it. He climbed back into his truck and went off. It felt like my heart was getting torn out of me. But, again, no one could know.
I know what you're thinking. This is a long suicide note, isn't it? Well, I kept a lot bottled up, and now that I can't be ridiculed for it, I'm talking. It's my turn with the sharing stick and you can't have it back until I'm done. Pay attention, because it gets worse.
Dad came back, got kidnapped, I found him, I trusted him, I saved him, and he turned on me. Because nightmares are real. He made mine come true, in a way.
"They don't need you. Not like you need them." He said that to me, right before he reminded me that I'll never be the favorite son. Like I needed reminding. Then he tried to kill me. Some father, huh? But I love the man more than life itself.
Some bad crap happened, I got hurt, physically and emotionally, and we wound up in a hospital. Or, I guess, I wound up in a hospital. See, when I finally woke up, after five surgeries, from an induced coma, I was alone. My nightmare had come true.
I didn't have to ask where my family was. I knew. They'd left a note, not as sappy and detailed as this one, but a note just the same. They went after the thing that killed my mother, destroyed my father, changed my family, and killed me inside.
Well, now that I've been checked out of the hospital, I'm killing me on the outside, too. They're gone. They don't need me. I'm crippled. I'm weak. I could never face them. If I found them, they'd just walk away again. They'd leave me and I can't handle that. This is simpler. This is easier.
So I'm going to take the gun from it's hiding place in the glove compartment, I'm going to point it at my head, and I'm going to pull the trigger. The family in the room next to mine will hear the shot and call the cops, who will come and find my body. They'll search for an id, and find about 20. I should probably give you my name, huh?
My name is Dean Winchester, and I'm going to die alone, because that's the way I was raised. Alone. You can try to find my father and brother, but you'll have one hell of a time. They're hiding, and they won't be found unless they want to.
So, this is my final good-bye, my last hoorah. Dad, I'm sorry. I wish I could have stuck around longer to finally bring that bastard down, but I can't go on. Not like this. And, Sammy, you should have listened in Chicago. And Salvation. And Jefferson City. Just might have saved my life. I love you.
The man dressed like a police officer put the note back down on the bedside table and stepped over the carefully covered body, tears leaking from his green eyes. His father had been too devastated to even enter the shabby motel room, and now Sam knew why. John had been fearing the fallout if the vision came true. It had, with startling, heart wrenching clarity.
Sam walked slowly from the room, swiping at his eyes as he approached his father. "He left a note, dad," the young man muttered, leaning up against the black hulk of his brother's car, the only constant thing in the man's life, "he said he loved us. He said he wanted to help, but couldn't. Dad, we shouldn't have left him like that."
"I know that, Sammy," John replied, turning away from the room as the body of his oldest son was carried out in a bag, "I know that now. Did he say why?"
Sam sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "He said he felt alone. Dad, how could he get that lonely without us knowing? How did we let that happen?"
John didn't reply, just watched the ambulance rumble into the distance as the cop cars pulled out of the parking lot.
"We're going to the funeral, right?" Sam asked, his head down, tears hitting the pavement as rain began falling from the heavens.
"We can't," John replied sadly, "we're getting close now, Sam. We can't let it find us. We can't stop the hunt. Come on."
The two hunters slowly slid into the car and took off, leaving Jefferson City far behind them as the angels cried. One in particular, a newly-winged man with haunted hazel eyes and sandy hair, cried the hardest. He knew in his heart that no one would be there to watch his tortured body be lowered into the cold earth. He had lived, died, and would be buried alone.
So, wipe those eyes, blow your noses, and review!