Collection of Destiel

Such As It Ends

I've been losing sleep for days.
You've been searching through the deserts and the caves.
Your postcards hit me in the waves
sadly stinging me with songs of yesterday.

"Coffee?" His brother's voice was the only noise in the kitchen that morning. It was eerily cautious in a way that made his heart ache to think of how fragile he was.

"Nah." Dean's eyes stayed trained on the photographs slayed on the table before him. His eyes were almost too tear-logged to make out the faces but it didn't matter, those images were burned pristinely into his memories.

Last night he hadn't slept, another long night in a row of restless midnight hours. The last thing he remembers was digging out the pictures while the moon hung above him. Now the sun was shining delicately in through the windows illuminating the smiles that were frozen on paper.

"He told me once that he hated posing for pictures." Dean's voice surprised him but he knew that if he didn't talk soon he might forget how to talk altogether. "I'm glad I forced him to take so many."

"Dean." Sam leaned back against the sink with his eyes trained on the top of Dean's head. "Do you think looking at those will help you move on?"

"Remember when mom used to show us pictures from when she was girl?" Ignoring his brother, Dean smiled through a few unrelenting tears. "She said they are postcards in time."

"Dean-"

"This one was from the day we went to the opera." Dean chuckled sadly, not feeling the laughter reach his heart. His fingers lazily traced the colors swirled together creating his husband's smiling face. With a heaving sigh he flipped over the photo to read the words he'd written on the back. "'Cas spilt champagne on his tux ten minutes later'."

This time Sam didn't open his mouth to say anything.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" Dean finally met his brother's eyes with a pleading redness etched around usually vibrant green. "The next time he spills champagne on his tux there'll be someone else writing it down on the back of a photo. It'll be someone else in the picture holding his waist."

Sam couldn't take it anymore, seeing and hearing the wrenching misery in his older brother's voice. "Put them away, Dean. This isn't doing you any good."

"I guess it isn't." His eyes fell back to the photos now mocking up at him with smiles that never would shatter. "But they're all I have of him. Memories. It's what my life has become. Memories of a happiness I'll never get back."

Sam turned his head away from the sight at the kitchen table that broke his own heart.

Love, such as it ends
breaking the hearts that wouldn't bend
closes the doors you used to listen through.
(But it goes on...) Love, such as it ends
into the flames, we'll start again
and in the end I'll be with you.

"Shut your mouth!" Dean howled with laughter as he slapped a hand across his eyes. "That was not how it happened!"

"It totally was!" Sam shrieked with his own chuckle before he turned to his fiancé. "Dean was supposed to be watching me but he fell asleep on the couch. So, I snuck out and Dad ended up finding me at a strip club! Hauled my ass home and I couldn't look anyone in the eye for a week!"

Jess giggled behind her hand at Sam's outrageously comical smile. "I didn't know you were such a rebel, sweetie."

Dean rolled his eyes with a snort. "He isn't. That's the one story he uses to make girls think he's badass. But after that he never ever went to a strip club again."