Fic title: Do You Want the Truth or Something Beautiful?
Author name: vampireifurita
Artist name: mulanreflection
Genre: Gen, Wincest
Pairing: Dean/Sam, some background Castiel/Sam, Castiel/Crowley
Word count: 26,732
Warnings: horror, disturbing imagery, violence
Summary: After Sam sacrificed himself to save the world; Dean had gone to Lisa just as he’d been asked. Things had been just fine until he started hearing music that no one else could hear and things just go downhill from there. With no one to turn to, bear witness to man lost at sea, in the throes of grief and unexplainable music that haunts him much like the memories of his brother.
She suggested trying to take a break from the routine. She said that perhaps it would change his mental state, like his routine was what was messing up his mind. Rolling his eyes he agreed to at least try it. And really, what could changing up his routine hurt? Routines were boring. He never used to have a routine. He used to go where he wanted, did what he wanted, did who he wanted… not that that was no longer the case. He still did that, just here, in the same place, with the same woman… not that that was a problem, because it wasn’t.
So here he was, in the kitchen at 6:45 in the freaking morning, praying the coffee pot would hurry up. It was gray outside and the sound of the rain pouring down on the roof was soothing. He might not be fully awake to entirely appreciate the beauty of the early morning rain, but he was never one to do that anyway. Out of the corner of his eye he caught movement, but when he turned his head there was nothing there. Frowning at the dimly lit table, he turned his attention back to the coffee pot, but not before grabbing a silver knife from the drawer.
The smell of fresh coffee filled the air and he took in a deep breath. His stomach growled at him and he opened a cabinet to get out his mug. While he hated being awake at such an ungodly hour, it was actually nice to take a break from the routine. He reached over to the radio and flicked it on, hoping to catch the morning talk and catch up on the goings on in the world.
~I woke up again this morning and wouldn’t you know it? Pouring rain.
I went and burnt a pot of coffee, and laughed as I poured it down the drain.
‘Cause I didn’t know I needed you so
And letting you go was wrong
And baby I know you got your radio on
So this is my ‘my bad, come back’ song. ~
Flinching, he pressed the button to turn the radio off, but the music kept playing. Eye twitching, and hands starting to shake, he set down his mug of coffee. His pressing became panicked. Turning it off, off, off! But the music merely got louder and louder, drowning out the din of the rain. It was crowding into his head, pushing out everything else. Memories were rising unbidden.
~I know I said I wouldn’t miss you, now I’m saying I’m a fool. ~
“Fucking stop it!” he yelled and punched the radio, effectively killing the music.
“Dean? Dean what happened? What’s going on?” She asked, rushing to his side. His hand was a bit singed and cut up from the now destroyed radio. He frowned down at his hand. “Why were you turning the radio on and off? Why did you punch it? I don’t understand what’s going on Dean!”
He blinked at her. “It wouldn’t turn off.”
Her eyes rose from his hand to look at him. Tilting her head, as if carefully considering her next move, she opened her mouth to speak to him slowly. “You were turning it on and off Dean.”
“No I wasn’t. It wouldn’t turn off. It was playing some damned country song and it wouldn’t turn off!” he retorted, getting agitated by the situation. Her jaw tightened.
“Alright Dean, why don’t we go get some bandages for your hand?” she asked, completely sidestepping his statement. Hanging his head, all he could do was nod his head and follow after her.