Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-07-28 06:04 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2007-07-28 06:04 pm
Dean/Layla - Saying Goodbye
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Saying Goodbye
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT/PG-13
Characters: Dean Winchester/Layla Rourke, Sam Winchester
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15pairings Prompt: 9. Photograph
Content Warning: Spoilers for "Faith."
Summary: Dean waits for his chance to say goodbye.
Author's Note: These two were too cute on the show, and I wonder a lot if Kripke really killed her off, or she's lurking out there somewhere and if she is--if she's coming back.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Supernatural. They're owned by the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please don't use them without my permission.
He sort of made a habit of checking the obituaries online. He would wait till Sam headed into the shower, or thought he was asleep, and then he would boot up the laptop and check. He didn’t want Sam to realize what he was doing—first of all, it just wasn’t Dean’s style to get attached like that, and the next time Dean was going to tease Sam for it, Sam would just shove this back in his face, and secondly, Dean didn’t need Sam saying that he understood, but Dean really needed to let go. But Dean didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t even so much that she survived over him anymore. He wanted to know because he wanted to go—pay his respects, in a way. He wanted to say goodbye. And Sam, being Sam, would never believe that that was really the reason why.
It was about eight months later, when they had just started to get back on the road again after John’s death, and Sam was in the shower when he found her. The obituary was nice, but it wasn’t a long one—then again her life wasn’t a long one either. It was the picture that got to him, though. The bright smile seemed to be the same one that she had given him and Sam when they first met, and she seemed so content—so at peace. He couldn’t help the small smile that crawled up the side of his face; despite the way his heart broke at the fact that she was really gone.
“Whatcha got?”
He glanced up at Sam before closing the window with the obituary quickly. He shook his head, before closing the lid, “Nothing. Just one of those stupid internet jokes.”
Sam looked at him for a minute, before shaking his head, and starting to walk away, “Whatever you say.”
It was a few months before he got back around to that part of Nebraska again, and Dean gave Sam some story about a beer run in order to cover where he was really going. He knew he was going to be gone to long to actually legitimize it as a beer run, but Sam knew how easily he got distracted—hopefully it would be written off as nothing.
He bought her flowers. He never did learn which ones were her favorites, and he wasn’t that well versed in flowers to begin with, so he went the cliché route and bought her roses—the best ones he could afford—and brought them with him to the cemetery. When he reached the cemetery, it didn’t take him long to find her. It was the headstone with the least moss and vines on it, her name carved clearly into the granite. He kneeled down next to the headstone, placed the flowers down next to her, and hesitated for a minute, not really sure what to do after that. His experience in graveyards had been limited to salting and burning bodies, or standing on the fringes of funerals. He’s never had to say anything to someone who was dead before, and he wasn’t exactly sure where to start.
“Hey, Layla,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh—I know I’m a little late, but I figure, hey—better late the never, right?” He flashed her a bright smile, before realizing that there was no way she could see it, and the smile faded. He scratched the back of his neck slightly, before shifting so that he was sitting in front of the headstone.
“You know, it sucks that we never really got the chance to know each other better,” he sighed. “Well—for me more so than you. Once you got to know me, you might not like me so much.” He hesitated for a minute, then spoke again, “Not that I’m not worth knowing or anything, I just think—well, once you got to know me and stuff—it just wouldn’t turn out so well.”
He paused again, running a hand through his hair, before pushing himself to his feet. “Well—that’s it then. Just wanted to—” His voice trailed off again, before looking down at his feet. “—yeah.”
The wind picked up again as he started to walk away, and he pulled his coat tighter around him, to keep out the cold. He lifted his head up again, and that was when he felt it—the soft brush of fingers through his hair, and he was reminded of the last time he saw her, and the way her hand brushed against the side of his face. He smiled slightly, before speaking again.
“Goodbye, Layla.”
With that, there was the soft brush of a finger against his lips and his smile widened, as he tightened his coat around himself again, and made his way out of the graveyard.
Title: Saying Goodbye
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT/PG-13
Characters: Dean Winchester/Layla Rourke, Sam Winchester
15pairings Prompt: 9. PhotographContent Warning: Spoilers for "Faith."
Summary: Dean waits for his chance to say goodbye.
Author's Note: These two were too cute on the show, and I wonder a lot if Kripke really killed her off, or she's lurking out there somewhere and if she is--if she's coming back.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Supernatural. They're owned by the CW. However, any and all original characters are mine, so please don't use them without my permission.
He sort of made a habit of checking the obituaries online. He would wait till Sam headed into the shower, or thought he was asleep, and then he would boot up the laptop and check. He didn’t want Sam to realize what he was doing—first of all, it just wasn’t Dean’s style to get attached like that, and the next time Dean was going to tease Sam for it, Sam would just shove this back in his face, and secondly, Dean didn’t need Sam saying that he understood, but Dean really needed to let go. But Dean didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t even so much that she survived over him anymore. He wanted to know because he wanted to go—pay his respects, in a way. He wanted to say goodbye. And Sam, being Sam, would never believe that that was really the reason why.
It was about eight months later, when they had just started to get back on the road again after John’s death, and Sam was in the shower when he found her. The obituary was nice, but it wasn’t a long one—then again her life wasn’t a long one either. It was the picture that got to him, though. The bright smile seemed to be the same one that she had given him and Sam when they first met, and she seemed so content—so at peace. He couldn’t help the small smile that crawled up the side of his face; despite the way his heart broke at the fact that she was really gone.
“Whatcha got?”
He glanced up at Sam before closing the window with the obituary quickly. He shook his head, before closing the lid, “Nothing. Just one of those stupid internet jokes.”
Sam looked at him for a minute, before shaking his head, and starting to walk away, “Whatever you say.”
It was a few months before he got back around to that part of Nebraska again, and Dean gave Sam some story about a beer run in order to cover where he was really going. He knew he was going to be gone to long to actually legitimize it as a beer run, but Sam knew how easily he got distracted—hopefully it would be written off as nothing.
He bought her flowers. He never did learn which ones were her favorites, and he wasn’t that well versed in flowers to begin with, so he went the cliché route and bought her roses—the best ones he could afford—and brought them with him to the cemetery. When he reached the cemetery, it didn’t take him long to find her. It was the headstone with the least moss and vines on it, her name carved clearly into the granite. He kneeled down next to the headstone, placed the flowers down next to her, and hesitated for a minute, not really sure what to do after that. His experience in graveyards had been limited to salting and burning bodies, or standing on the fringes of funerals. He’s never had to say anything to someone who was dead before, and he wasn’t exactly sure where to start.
“Hey, Layla,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh—I know I’m a little late, but I figure, hey—better late the never, right?” He flashed her a bright smile, before realizing that there was no way she could see it, and the smile faded. He scratched the back of his neck slightly, before shifting so that he was sitting in front of the headstone.
“You know, it sucks that we never really got the chance to know each other better,” he sighed. “Well—for me more so than you. Once you got to know me, you might not like me so much.” He hesitated for a minute, then spoke again, “Not that I’m not worth knowing or anything, I just think—well, once you got to know me and stuff—it just wouldn’t turn out so well.”
He paused again, running a hand through his hair, before pushing himself to his feet. “Well—that’s it then. Just wanted to—” His voice trailed off again, before looking down at his feet. “—yeah.”
The wind picked up again as he started to walk away, and he pulled his coat tighter around him, to keep out the cold. He lifted his head up again, and that was when he felt it—the soft brush of fingers through his hair, and he was reminded of the last time he saw her, and the way her hand brushed against the side of his face. He smiled slightly, before speaking again.
“Goodbye, Layla.”
With that, there was the soft brush of a finger against his lips and his smile widened, as he tightened his coat around himself again, and made his way out of the graveyard.