Categories > TV > Supernatural0 Reviews
It was beautiful, paradise... if only that music would stop playing.
Author: Sammy ( OhgoshxSammy, Wincest )
Pairing/Characters: No pairings. Dean and Mary, mentions of John and Sam
Warning: Character Death
Summary: It was beautiful, paradise... if only that music would stop playing.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations portrayed her are complete fiction, meaning they did not happen. Supernatural and the characters are properties by The WB/CW.
He felt light, extremely light. And extremely warm too, like he was being woken slowly by the caress of morning sunshine. He heard music very faintly in the distance; some old country song. He smelled fresh, unpolluted air and he knew he wasn't alone. He could feel her presence before he could see her.
"I'm here, sweety," a soft, gentle voice murmured quietly. "I'm here."
Dean opened his eyes and saw a cloudless blue sky overhead. When he sat up, he saw a field of green as far as the eye could see, untouched by human interference. It was beautiful, paradise. If only that music would stop playing.
"Where is this?" he turned to look at her and felt hypnotized like he had been back in Lawrence. She still looked the same. Long blonde hair and a long, silk nightgown. She was still the Mary from his childhood.
She looked down at him and smiled, but offered no explanation. And Dean accepted that like so many wordless orders John gave he and Sam. Sam...
Dean looked around and saw no one else. Just he and Mary and beautiful nothingness. Before he could ask, she shook her head.
"It's just us, baby," she said gently as she sat down beside him.
"Shhh," she rested her palm on his cheek and smiled, sadly this time. "It's just us, Dean."
Dean nodded slowly, though he was still confused. Why just them? Why wasn't Sammy here? Why not John?
"Go on back to sleep, honey," Mary said softly. "You'll understand more when you wake up."
Dean rested his head on her knees as she stroked his hair, and he was lost in the familiarity of it all. The silk of her nightgown, her gentle touch. It all came back in a rush and he smiled. Actually smiled because this felt like home. He closed his eyes and music stopped and all that he heard, knew, or felt was his mom and his childhood and Mary's gentle voice singing a forgotten lullaby.