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The Last Night: Ch1Sam was hurt. Sam was dying. And then he wasn’t. He was laughing, and smiling, and everything was fine.
Except everything wasn’t fine. Cas leaned heavily against a wall, dark circles beneath dull eyes making him look every single day of his however many thousands of years.
Dean looked between them, torn. Sam was okay. Cas was not. Something was wrong.
“Don’t look at me like that, Dean,” Cas growled, pushing away from the wall. The angel’s expression was tired, instead of his usual bemused focus.
“You kidding me, Cas? You look exhausted.”
“I might have used a little more Grace than I intended. I am, however, to use a human phrase… ‘fine’. You should worry less about me and more about yourself.”
Dean shrugged. He was well aware that Cas knew he was hardly sleeping anymore, but someone had to be awake in case something decided to attack while they were vulnerable. They couldn’t even demon-proof an
Song of SamHe sits upon the Hellgates Throne
And cannot leave, for he alone
Is strong enough to understand
The task bestowed unto his hand
With keeping Satan he is charged
For if the devil were to barge
Right out of Hell into our world
A thousand angels, wings unfurled
Would fail to force him back to Hell
So hail the great King Samael!
ViolinI remember the day
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
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