SPN Coda: 5x08
Nov. 9th, 2009 07:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
errant_janeIDK, you guys. I wrote most of this at work today. The question is, am I crazy and OCD enough to go back and write codas for 5x06 and 5x07?
Changing Channels Coda
***
They drive in silence for a long time, which is fine by Dean. His mind keeps going in circles, trying to process the huge information dump Gabriel gave them. He keeps coming back to this: For all their talk, Team Heaven sure seems uptight and panicky about something they keep insisting is inevitable. The more they talk, the less Dean is sold on their so-called destiny
"I never meant to betray you," Sam says suddenly, startling Dean out of his thoughts.
"Sam—"
"No, I just." Sam takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I know that doesn't excuse anything I did and I know it's taking the whole 'road to hell' thing more literally than it was ever meant to be, but my intention was always..."
Dean doesn't want to have this conversation. He really doesn't, but he can't keep from prompting, "Always?"
"All my life. You've protected me all my life and when it came down to it, the one time you needed me, I couldn't do anything." Sam is staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched. "I couldn't do anything and you came back anyway and I thought, this is my chance. To protect you for a change. To show you that I could. That you didn't have to do it all yourself."
"Worked out well for you." Dean sees Sam glance over at him out of the corner of his eyes.
"Yeah." Sam laughs without humor. "And the funny thing is, I'm pretty sure that's what the—That's what Gabriel was trying to warn me about. Before, with the mystery spot. That I couldn’t do anything. Or that the only thing I could do was not leave myself wide open."
"To be played like a little bitch?" This is why Dean can't talk about it. Because it still pisses him right the hell off and he can't afford to be this angry now.
Sam nods. "He knew it. She knew it. All I could think about was getting you back. And then the fact that you weren't coming back and I let her tell me what I wanted to hear. She kept talking and I kept listening because I couldn't let you go."
"Yeah, and she knew just what buttons to push. Hell, Sam. You gave her a goddamn manual. Dammit!" He slams his hand against the steering wheel. Sam is silent beside him and Dean tries hard to rein in his temper. He breathes out through his nose and shakes his head. "She played a good game, I'll give her that. Even had me going once or twice."
"I know it doesn't change what happened. I just wanted you to know, it was never a conscious decision, her over you. It was always about you."
Something rigid and tense inside Dean snaps at that and he starts to laugh because it's so fucking ridiculous. "You were thinking of me the whole time, huh, Sammy?" He glances over at Sam and leers.
"What?" Sam gives him a bewildered look. "What?" he says again, but Dean can hear the laughter in his voice. "You’re sick, dude."
"I do believe this is the point where I call you a no-good dog and throw all your shit out on the interstate." He looks over to see that look on Sam's face, the one he used to get when he was little and thought he was about to pull one over on Dean.
"Or you could slap me and tell me I'm a brilliant but cowardly bastard."
Which just sets Dean off again. Welcome to the Winchester comedy hour, this time without the live studio audience.
"Nah," he says when he’s calmed down a little. "You may be a lot of things, but coward has never been one of them."
"Dean?"
Dean sighs. He'd kind of hoped the conversation was over. "Yeah?"
"If you had it to do over again, knowing what you know now. Would you have let me stay dead?"
"If I had it to do over again?" Dean considers it because they both deserve an honest answer here. He thinks about Zachariah torturing Sam in their dad's storage unit and thinks, no, he would no longer automatically lay down his life for Sam, but it took him forty years in hell and the apocalypse to learn that particular lesson.
Then he thinks of Sam collapsing in that stupid muddy field, of Sam dead from a knife to the back and the memory still makes his chest clench, a tight, suffocating panic.
"I probably wouldn't go off half-cocked and make a deal with the devil," he says finally. "But I don't think I could just let you go either. Not even knowing everything we know now." Not even now. He shakes his head. "Truth is, I offered myself up same as you, first to hell and then heaven. And they both fucked us six ways to Sunday."
It's as close to forgiveness as Dean can come on this and a little more of his anger drains away. He can feel Sam watching him and he doesn't look over, doesn't want to see whatever the look in Sam's eyes would tell him.
Sam sighs and finally looks away. "Where does that leave us, then? What are we supposed to do to keep it all from happening again?"
Dean shrugs. "We keep choosing each other. Far as I can see, that's the only thing that's gonna keep those sonsabitches at bay. We've just got to be honest, stop trying to protect each other and work together."
"Yeah." Sam shifts in his seat and Dean can see him nodding. "That works."
Which should be the end of it, but a few minutes later Sam sits up straighter and says, "Hey, Dean? In the interest of full disclosure..."
"Yeah?" Dean's not really sure he wants to know, but he doesn't want to disturb this new peace.
"You want to tell me about your crush on Dr. Sexy?" Sam clearly has no such problem.
"Okay, conversation officially over."
Sam does not heed the warning in Dean's voice. "You were blushing and stammering like a twelve-year-old girl."
"I was not!"
"His sexy cowboy boots?"
"Shut up, Sam." Dean leans forward and switches on the radio, turning the volume way up.
They make it through three songs before Sam says, "Hey, Dean?"
"What?"
"If I got sexy cowboy boots, do you think I could get all the boys to like me?"
"No."
"Hey, Dean?"
"What?" Dean's trying for angry, but he feels like laughing again.
"Do you want Dr. Sexy to give you an exam? Y'know. Turn your head and cough."
"You're such a brat." Then, before Sam can say anything else, Dean turns and says, "You say 'Hey, Dean' one more time and so help me I will end you."
Sam's answering smile is far too amused.
ETA: So, apparently that conversation didn't end there.
Changing Channels Coda
***
They drive in silence for a long time, which is fine by Dean. His mind keeps going in circles, trying to process the huge information dump Gabriel gave them. He keeps coming back to this: For all their talk, Team Heaven sure seems uptight and panicky about something they keep insisting is inevitable. The more they talk, the less Dean is sold on their so-called destiny
"I never meant to betray you," Sam says suddenly, startling Dean out of his thoughts.
"Sam—"
"No, I just." Sam takes a deep breath and lets it out. "I know that doesn't excuse anything I did and I know it's taking the whole 'road to hell' thing more literally than it was ever meant to be, but my intention was always..."
Dean doesn't want to have this conversation. He really doesn't, but he can't keep from prompting, "Always?"
"All my life. You've protected me all my life and when it came down to it, the one time you needed me, I couldn't do anything." Sam is staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched. "I couldn't do anything and you came back anyway and I thought, this is my chance. To protect you for a change. To show you that I could. That you didn't have to do it all yourself."
"Worked out well for you." Dean sees Sam glance over at him out of the corner of his eyes.
"Yeah." Sam laughs without humor. "And the funny thing is, I'm pretty sure that's what the—That's what Gabriel was trying to warn me about. Before, with the mystery spot. That I couldn’t do anything. Or that the only thing I could do was not leave myself wide open."
"To be played like a little bitch?" This is why Dean can't talk about it. Because it still pisses him right the hell off and he can't afford to be this angry now.
Sam nods. "He knew it. She knew it. All I could think about was getting you back. And then the fact that you weren't coming back and I let her tell me what I wanted to hear. She kept talking and I kept listening because I couldn't let you go."
"Yeah, and she knew just what buttons to push. Hell, Sam. You gave her a goddamn manual. Dammit!" He slams his hand against the steering wheel. Sam is silent beside him and Dean tries hard to rein in his temper. He breathes out through his nose and shakes his head. "She played a good game, I'll give her that. Even had me going once or twice."
"I know it doesn't change what happened. I just wanted you to know, it was never a conscious decision, her over you. It was always about you."
Something rigid and tense inside Dean snaps at that and he starts to laugh because it's so fucking ridiculous. "You were thinking of me the whole time, huh, Sammy?" He glances over at Sam and leers.
"What?" Sam gives him a bewildered look. "What?" he says again, but Dean can hear the laughter in his voice. "You’re sick, dude."
"I do believe this is the point where I call you a no-good dog and throw all your shit out on the interstate." He looks over to see that look on Sam's face, the one he used to get when he was little and thought he was about to pull one over on Dean.
"Or you could slap me and tell me I'm a brilliant but cowardly bastard."
Which just sets Dean off again. Welcome to the Winchester comedy hour, this time without the live studio audience.
"Nah," he says when he’s calmed down a little. "You may be a lot of things, but coward has never been one of them."
"Dean?"
Dean sighs. He'd kind of hoped the conversation was over. "Yeah?"
"If you had it to do over again, knowing what you know now. Would you have let me stay dead?"
"If I had it to do over again?" Dean considers it because they both deserve an honest answer here. He thinks about Zachariah torturing Sam in their dad's storage unit and thinks, no, he would no longer automatically lay down his life for Sam, but it took him forty years in hell and the apocalypse to learn that particular lesson.
Then he thinks of Sam collapsing in that stupid muddy field, of Sam dead from a knife to the back and the memory still makes his chest clench, a tight, suffocating panic.
"I probably wouldn't go off half-cocked and make a deal with the devil," he says finally. "But I don't think I could just let you go either. Not even knowing everything we know now." Not even now. He shakes his head. "Truth is, I offered myself up same as you, first to hell and then heaven. And they both fucked us six ways to Sunday."
It's as close to forgiveness as Dean can come on this and a little more of his anger drains away. He can feel Sam watching him and he doesn't look over, doesn't want to see whatever the look in Sam's eyes would tell him.
Sam sighs and finally looks away. "Where does that leave us, then? What are we supposed to do to keep it all from happening again?"
Dean shrugs. "We keep choosing each other. Far as I can see, that's the only thing that's gonna keep those sonsabitches at bay. We've just got to be honest, stop trying to protect each other and work together."
"Yeah." Sam shifts in his seat and Dean can see him nodding. "That works."
Which should be the end of it, but a few minutes later Sam sits up straighter and says, "Hey, Dean? In the interest of full disclosure..."
"Yeah?" Dean's not really sure he wants to know, but he doesn't want to disturb this new peace.
"You want to tell me about your crush on Dr. Sexy?" Sam clearly has no such problem.
"Okay, conversation officially over."
Sam does not heed the warning in Dean's voice. "You were blushing and stammering like a twelve-year-old girl."
"I was not!"
"His sexy cowboy boots?"
"Shut up, Sam." Dean leans forward and switches on the radio, turning the volume way up.
They make it through three songs before Sam says, "Hey, Dean?"
"What?"
"If I got sexy cowboy boots, do you think I could get all the boys to like me?"
"No."
"Hey, Dean?"
"What?" Dean's trying for angry, but he feels like laughing again.
"Do you want Dr. Sexy to give you an exam? Y'know. Turn your head and cough."
"You're such a brat." Then, before Sam can say anything else, Dean turns and says, "You say 'Hey, Dean' one more time and so help me I will end you."
Sam's answering smile is far too amused.
ETA: So, apparently that conversation didn't end there.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 01:29 am (UTC)You already knew I loved this (I hope), but it bears repeating.
Angsty boys are angsty until they aren't. Perfectly in charcacter, like that's even a concern.
BOYS!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 01:32 am (UTC)Aw, thank you!!
It is!! It is a concern! I didn't have anyone read it before I posted! You know how that makes me nail-bitey.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 01:34 am (UTC)You're welcom ;)
OIC how it is. *pout* Now I'm noone? *harumphs off to the island of Misfit Toys* /silly sarcasm
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 01:39 am (UTC)My statement stands.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 01:42 am (UTC)See!
Unless you put Dean in a pink tutu and turned Sam into a jackalope (which on second thought is entirely possible), the possibility of you going OOC is about as likely as Tennesseans learning how to drive properly.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 01:47 am (UTC)AW! IC WHAT UR DOING HERE!!! *blushes* I feel like you should know better than to say these things to me, but ILU for saying them anyway!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 01:52 am (UTC)I should know better, perhaps, but these are true stories I tell. Lip service is silly.