Categories > TV > Supernatural > Seek, Kill, Destroy
Seek, Kill, Destroy
0 reviewsIt was selfish, it was wrong, and it was destructive. But that was all he had ever known.
1Insightful
Title: Seek, Kill, Destroy
Author: Xtreme17nc13
Summary: It was selfish, it was wrong, and it was destructive. But that was all he had ever known.
Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me because HELLO! If they did, they so would have boned by now.
Rating: R
Warnings: References to Wincest, Angst, Papa Winchester Bashing, Self-Mutilation
Notes: This is my first Supernatural fic, and it's pretty short (694 words). Feedback is muchly appreciated. Happy Reading! Thanks to Cody for some general information involving guns and MEGA thanks to Tara for giving it a good once-over. She is my cheerleader.
Seek, Kill, Destroy
Most of them had already faded away, but there were always a few that were fresh from the day before. He never knew if he was the reason they were there, or if he was the reason a lot less were made. Every time he saw the straight lines on the underside of Sammy's arms, he felt that much more inclined to just call off the entire hunt.
The stress and tension had been in there lives since the very beginning. Every day, every night, it was the same thing. They were raised to seek, kill, destroy. It didn't matter if what they were doing was for the greater good or not, killing was killing, not matter what it was called. They ate, slept, breathed to find The Demon and finish it once and for all. For twenty-two years, that's all they really knew.
They had always been each others companions, friends, and occasional lovers. He always blamed himself for the way things turned out between them, but recently, he had shifted that role over to the one person that truly caused them to live this way. There was once a time that he cursed The Demon for how utterly fucked his and Sammy's life was, but not anymore. No. He had finally understood that the only person to truly blame was their father.
He was the reason they were never normal. He was the reason they had absolutely no childhood to speak of. He was the reason they were truly fucked up. It had always been his fault. He insisted on them knowing the proper way to handle and use the Remington, the Beretta, and every other fucking gun in the world. It was he that taught them to kill without remorse, without thought. They were created to maim and annihilate anything and everything that stood in the way of that ultimate goal.
A tear silently slid down his cheek as finally admitted what Sammy had known all along. He had used them since the beginning. Even if his intent had been in the best interest of everyone else, he often forgot what he put his sons through on a daily basis. What he expected of them and what they were taught to do.
"..Dean.." the slight exhalation brought him from his reverie and his attention was once again focused on the body that lie next to him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and traced the pad of his thumb over one of the more recent cuts, "Shh, Sammy... It's okay," he murmured, "I'm here... I'll always be here..."
He really did understand why Sammy did it. Hell, there were times he felt the need to as well. Sometimes it was just so damn hard to feel/, to actually /feel something rather than have this detached connection. That was the hardest part of it all. That empty feeling that he got after a successful hunt, the same feeling that he just knew tore Sammy up as well.
He understood that Sammy used it as an outlet and if it had been anyone else, he would have called them weak. But Sammy wasn't weak; could never be considered weak. He just had a different way to deal with the pain.
Sammy would slice open the skin on the underside of his wrist. He had seen him do it on many occasions, yet he could do nothing to stop it. Watching Sammy have the strength to do that filled him with odd sensation. It was almost as if someone had stroked a feather up his bare back. It was tingling, it was exciting, it was a completely different sense of dangerous than what he was accustomed to and he loved it. He loved to see Sammy break himself apart for the sole purpose that He got to put him back together again. It was selfish, it was wrong, and it was destructive.
But that was all he had ever known.
Author: Xtreme17nc13
Summary: It was selfish, it was wrong, and it was destructive. But that was all he had ever known.
Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me because HELLO! If they did, they so would have boned by now.
Rating: R
Warnings: References to Wincest, Angst, Papa Winchester Bashing, Self-Mutilation
Notes: This is my first Supernatural fic, and it's pretty short (694 words). Feedback is muchly appreciated. Happy Reading! Thanks to Cody for some general information involving guns and MEGA thanks to Tara for giving it a good once-over. She is my cheerleader.
Seek, Kill, Destroy
Most of them had already faded away, but there were always a few that were fresh from the day before. He never knew if he was the reason they were there, or if he was the reason a lot less were made. Every time he saw the straight lines on the underside of Sammy's arms, he felt that much more inclined to just call off the entire hunt.
The stress and tension had been in there lives since the very beginning. Every day, every night, it was the same thing. They were raised to seek, kill, destroy. It didn't matter if what they were doing was for the greater good or not, killing was killing, not matter what it was called. They ate, slept, breathed to find The Demon and finish it once and for all. For twenty-two years, that's all they really knew.
They had always been each others companions, friends, and occasional lovers. He always blamed himself for the way things turned out between them, but recently, he had shifted that role over to the one person that truly caused them to live this way. There was once a time that he cursed The Demon for how utterly fucked his and Sammy's life was, but not anymore. No. He had finally understood that the only person to truly blame was their father.
He was the reason they were never normal. He was the reason they had absolutely no childhood to speak of. He was the reason they were truly fucked up. It had always been his fault. He insisted on them knowing the proper way to handle and use the Remington, the Beretta, and every other fucking gun in the world. It was he that taught them to kill without remorse, without thought. They were created to maim and annihilate anything and everything that stood in the way of that ultimate goal.
A tear silently slid down his cheek as finally admitted what Sammy had known all along. He had used them since the beginning. Even if his intent had been in the best interest of everyone else, he often forgot what he put his sons through on a daily basis. What he expected of them and what they were taught to do.
"..Dean.." the slight exhalation brought him from his reverie and his attention was once again focused on the body that lie next to him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and traced the pad of his thumb over one of the more recent cuts, "Shh, Sammy... It's okay," he murmured, "I'm here... I'll always be here..."
He really did understand why Sammy did it. Hell, there were times he felt the need to as well. Sometimes it was just so damn hard to feel/, to actually /feel something rather than have this detached connection. That was the hardest part of it all. That empty feeling that he got after a successful hunt, the same feeling that he just knew tore Sammy up as well.
He understood that Sammy used it as an outlet and if it had been anyone else, he would have called them weak. But Sammy wasn't weak; could never be considered weak. He just had a different way to deal with the pain.
Sammy would slice open the skin on the underside of his wrist. He had seen him do it on many occasions, yet he could do nothing to stop it. Watching Sammy have the strength to do that filled him with odd sensation. It was almost as if someone had stroked a feather up his bare back. It was tingling, it was exciting, it was a completely different sense of dangerous than what he was accustomed to and he loved it. He loved to see Sammy break himself apart for the sole purpose that He got to put him back together again. It was selfish, it was wrong, and it was destructive.
But that was all he had ever known.
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