abandonedporn:

(by odin’s_raven)

Jody keeps ringing me. My phone is vibrating in my pocket. I don’t want to hear what she has to say because I know. I know.

I’ve searched through every book I could find. I - I drank myself half to death and barely stopped myself from summoning Crowley. I didn’t though. I didn’t. But I can’t get you out, Dean. Cas.

And now I’m praying to a God who doesn’t care any more to bring Dean back to me, in a deserted, broken down church, uneven ground digging into my knees. It’s so beautiful. Those windows. I can’t look away. 

Come back before I do something stupid. Come back.

There’s a crossroads a half hour drive back. I’ve been circling it for days and Jody hasn’t stopped ringing me. Missouri.

I promised myself I would never let it go that far again. So I’m in a abandoned church (it is fitting, though, isn’t it) and I’m praying that I don’t.

I can’t. I can’t do it again. So.

So. 

Is this goodbye?

abandonedporn:

Together

Do you know what I miss?

Just you and me, Dean, riding in the Impala. Every time. Every single time. When we were kids, fighting over stupid things. Our toy soldiers. Those lego pieces that rattled around the place. Tattered magazines and Dad yelling from the frontseat.

When we were teenagers and the times you’d sit in the back with me were the  best.

When you came for me in Stanford.

You and me driving nowhere.

You and me, still in the Impala, old and broken and ‘til the end.

I haven’t left the Impala. I’m going numb. I can’t feel my lips. I’m still lying down on the back seat, staring up at the roof.

Did you know that the markings you left are still there, from the year you sold your soul. Counting down the days still you went to Hell. I don’t think you know I’d found them. Dean, I spent hours in this car when you. When you died. Just like this. And then I collected all my parts, put them together with duct-tape and demon blood, and tried to get you out.

It always seemed so weird to me, that you would damage the Impala, your baby, like that. And then I realised, you wanted her to remember you. You wanted to know that something would have your mark on it.

Dean.

letsbuildahome-fr:

Zoltan Bekefy “O C E A N”

An ocean of things I don’t know. I can’t find Dean or Castiel, anybody. I can’t see. I can’t swim.

I can’t breathe. I can’t —

I keep dreaming that Dean is at the end of the pier, sitting with a beer hanging between his fingers, but every time I walk towards him, the boards warp and twist and fall away.

The seas close over them, lick at my feet, and you won’t even look at me, Dean. Why won’t you look at me?

And then flames creep around the edge of my vision until everything I am burns away.

I’m sleeping in the car. It still smells like leather and gun oil in the front seat. I can pretend. 

I need to get up. I need to get them out.

I need to get up.

Get. Up.

andrewharlow:

Tommy Forbes
Untitled, 2012
Photograph

I’m looking back at the marks I’ve left on the field. I could crash. I’d ruin all my hard work and Dean would kill me if I destroyed his baby again. But I keep looking back.

The car is fixed, beautiful and like nothing has happened. It cost me an arm and a leg, but, really, it’s not like I’m the one who’s paying.

It’s weird, sitting in the passenger seat and the nothing but emptiness behind the wheel, an echoing space. It’s better, sitting here, than sitting in the cabin. I keep expecting Dean to just stroll in through the door, like nothing has happened, and the last few weeks were a fever dream. Sitting in the Impala, I know, it’s so obvious, that nothing is right. 

It’s better that way. 

I think I’m going to go drive. I picked up all the glass from the inside of the car and my hands are cut up, so it hurts to wrap my hands around the wheel - ten and two, Sammy, gotta do it right - but it’s okay.

It doesn’t matter.

I’m fine.

nesola:

Harry Bloom

I’ve pushed out all the dents in the Impala, she looks sleek, her tires no longer flat. But the front windscreen is gone and there’s a rattle that would make Dean cringe.

And nothing but trees surround me. Mist and the echoes of eerie birdsong, the breaking of twigs —

Nothing to worry about.

I…

I’m not sure what to do. There’s nothing I can do. I will not bring Jody and Missouri into this. This is my fight, my family’s fight.

I’m the only one that’s left here. And I want to give up.

How can I get Dean back? Cas can’t hear me. No one can h—

I’m going to do the only thing I can.

The Impala lies broken in the yard. I have to fix it.