floral and fading [supernatural]

rain when i die

He can feel the raindrops fall onto his face, drawing a smile on his lips as they roll down his cheeks.

He can feel the wind blowing against his skin, ruffling his already wet hair.

He can also hear his brother calling for him, but he doesn't answer.

He's feeling everything so vividly and yet faintly and distant, he's feeling more alive than he ever did, yet he feels like his soul is floating somewhere else where he can't find it.

That's when he drops to his knees, softly. Feels the mud and the wet grass underneath him.

He lies down, his eyes looking up at the sky. There's so many stars tonight.

As he gets wetter and wetter and dirtier and dirtier, he can almost feel himself disappear into the ground, becoming part of it.

He's tired of feeling things, feeling them but really not doing so, cause when you push something so deep in an abyss, it gets lots and stops existing.

He wants to be. Wants to be air so he can't struggle to breathe, wants to be the ground so he won't get tired of running, wants to be gravity so he won't have to try so hard to keep himself grounded.

But really, what he wants is to be free.

"Dean! What the hell, man? You ran off right after we burned the bones with no explanation!"

He doesn't flinch as he hears his brother come closer, running towards him. He just closes his eyes, takes a deep breath.

"Dean! God, are you hurt?"
Sammy's suddenly at his side, and Dean can't help the smile on his lips.

"I'm okay." and he is, really. Better than he's been in a very long time.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What was all of that, then?"

Dean doesn't like how his brother raises his voice. He wants silence now, peace. He's heard him scream angry words at his father and even at him. He doesn't like it.

"Just shut up, Sammy."

"Are you nuts? Dean, I swear..."

"I said shut your mouth. Lie down, now." his voice is calm but firm as he speaks up.

"You hit your head?"

"Do it, Sam."

He unwillingly does as he's told, lays down on the grass mumbling complains.
"Now what?"

"Stop being a bitch."

"Jerk."

They just lie side to side under a cloud free sky without saying a word for what feels like forever but should have been longer.

"That's what freedom feels like." Dean says, he isn't sure if to his brother or himself.

"I wouldn't know."

"Do you want to?"

"You know I do."

And yes, he does, but he isn't sure he wants to acknowledge it.

Cause he'll always aspire to taste what it's like to live the life you want, but he'll always push that thought away when he realises he would have to leave his family behind to have it.

Dean would prefer living in a cage over breathing without his family.

He just isn't sure it's the same for his kid brother.

Sammy has dreams, aspirations and he's stubborn, terribly angry at how unfair the world has been to him. Dean knows he would not let go of obtaining the normal life, the freedom he's always wanted.

He knows it would hurt to ask, it would hurt to listen to the answer.

So he doesn't say a thing, and they both lay in silence, side to side, the wind lulling them quietly as they get a taste of freedom, until they both are wet from head to toe.

That's when they come back to what they are now calling home.