Title: Gun
Fandom/Disclaimer: SPN, not mine.
Summary: Held in a loose grip
A/N: Dunno. Quote is from Beck's "Girl", which is the only song I like that he does.
Word count (at livejournal): 378

Gun

I know I'm gonna make it right

The gun is held in a loose grip. It's heavier than it should be and it's all he can do to keep it in his hand. He can hear the last stuttering breath of the other, how each breath is a fight to keep living. He's just now realized that maybe he's not the best guy in the world.

---

When he was little there was no one to tell him stories at bedtime, there was no one to kiss his scrapped knees better, there was no one to hug him when he cried. Which meant that he had to tell his own bedtime stories, he had to wash and bandage his own scratches, he didn't cry anymore. He spent all his time on his brother; all the things that he didn't have was because he gave them to the younger one.

He was the storyteller, the knees kisser, the hug giver. He was everything.

---

It's not fair that the baby grew up to be bigger than him. To be more stubborn. To leave. There's a little part of him that feels nothing but anger that he's been left behind but mostly he's proud. This is what he gets for his hard work. An empty bed beside his own, a father too angry for words, a brother that left him without even looking back.

He's just now come to the realization that karma is a bitch out for his blood.

---

There's years between the then and the now. He stopped telling bedtime stories years ago, the knees he used to kiss grew up, the hugs that were just as much for him were regulated to the past tense. He woke up one morning and instead of down he looked up.

He woke up one morning and instead of beside him the younger was miles and miles away.

---

So. The now is a gun held in a loose grip that's very close to ending. The man that is his father has been missing for weeks and in a few hours he'll be on the road again while cops try to make sense of the mess he's leaving behind. He's not too sure if he even cares anymore. It's hard to keep fighting when he's lost everything.

(end)