the undying love

violent skies and red sunrises

Dean pulled back realizing what he had just done.

He cheated on Sammy.
He cheated on Sammy right in his most vulnerable moment. He felt like his insides were going to explode.
"Oh my god. How could I have done this?"

Dean started sobbing. He felt like he just committed war crimes, and sure enough, Sammy would feel like they were.

Jo smiled at him, no regret on her end.
"It's okay Dean, let go." She kept repeating. She made it sound like the world was kept turning for once in Dean's head. Jo made Dean feel normal for once in a long time.
Was it worth it?
Was it worth the pain it would cause Sammy?
Dean couldn't determine if this new love would help him, or would it make his world and life worse. He just looked at Jo, who was still smiling.

Dean leaned in for more, he kissed her hard. He ignored the feelings of Sam, just once. Just once for him to feel again, to allow himself to melt away and not hurt. They both were melting into each other, just accepting what is, and what was happening.
Dean felt his insides warm-up, he felt this sensation he hasn't felt in so long. He couldn't determine if it was guilt or happiness, but he didn't stop.
He kept going, to feel this sensation because it was truly heavenly for the soul, which was aching for far too long. Dean pulled away again, and he sat down.
"Is it wrong I don't care about what Sammy thinks right now?"
Jo sighed, she smiled, cupping Dean's face in her hand and caressing his cheek.
"You're just hurting, and I'm here to help you. This is your new temporary home after all."
Dean smiled at her, thinking of how Sam would hate him.
The idea of Sam resenting him didn't bother him anymore. He stopped caring about the fight.
"Could Sam have successfully accidentally pushed me away?" He thought.
"Could our end be coming soon?"

Little did they know, Ellen heard the giggles and the lip-smacking.

Sam felt a little better, he finally decided it was time to do a little more.
Chore day it was!

Sam laid in bed every morning for about 10 minutes after waking up, to gather himself from dreams him Dylan which was beautifully haunting him every night. As long as the dreams kept coming, the very existence of his deceased lover would not leave.
He finally got up, brushed his teeth, showered, brushed his hair, and put on new clothes after weeks in Dylan's last sweater he wore.
Looking in the mirror, he saw the tiredness reflecting back for the first time since his death. He didn't really understand what got him up this morning, or why he was still going. He sighed and went out to start cleaning.

Walking around the bunker felt like a haunted house, Dylan's face mysteriously imprinted on all walls, the memories stuck all over.
Sam started in the kitchen, cleaning up week-old dishes, then finding a mug that made him think of Dylan using it his last good day to eat chicken noodle soup out of.
He forced himself to wash it, he hesitated, but he had to. The tears came naturally after a point, and he no longer fought them.
He put the dishes away, and was wiping off the counters, and cleaning up his used tissues that seemingly trailed around the bunker. Sam felt himself lighten for a moment, it was the best he's felt all week. He put on some music, and danced up a storm, singing and cleaning was today's agenda.

Sam didn't know he could feel this way again.
Happy. Happy was the only emotion that seemed to float to the front of Sam's heart and brain. No Dylan or grief-filled his body for once.
The feeling of no emptiness filled a void he had for a long time. He forgot about how much he enjoyed so many things, like music and cleaning.

After cleaning for a few hours, he sat down and cracked open a beer for the first time in a week. Sitting down and flipping through channels, he remembered about the fight with Dean. He knew Dean meant well, but it wasn't what needed to be said at that moment.
Sam knew his grief would get easier, but Dean painted it as an insurmountable problem in his life and he would not heal.
But he was healing. Sam had to remind himself daily healing was not a linear path. Healing is a path that winds and turns every day, and he was doing what it took for him to accept things and get better.
He knew this high was at best temporary before another crash, which was just fine. He could do this.
He had to for himself.