Fragment and Shatter, (SPN, XO, UC, Mature) 1/1

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Traitor
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Fragment and Shatter, (SPN, XO, UC, Mature) 1/1

Post by Traitor »

Title: Fragment and Shatter
Author: Traitor
Category: SPN/Ros, Liz/Dean
Rating: Mature, for some language
Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural or Roswell, all are property of their respective owners. Please don’t sue cause I have no money and that would be bad.
Summary: She was everything….
Authors Note: Big thanks to RoswellOracle for the banner!

Part four of the Destruction series.

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Fragment and Shatter


The look in her eyes in those final moments was what continued to haunt him so callously. The apologetic but firm brown irises that he could see no matter how hard he tried to push the image from his mind.

She had been the vessel, the carrier of Gods light, the sword to swing the blow that brought Lilith down to her knees.

Liz had sacrificed herself, given it all up, to save a world that Dean wasn’t entirely sure deserved to be saved. This earth that was full of death and violence, decay and destitution, had not been worth the price, not to him. The world should have obliterated itself in sorrow when her soul was snuffed out. Nothing deserved to exist….not without Liz.

He cracked his knuckles, wincing slightly at the pain. His hands were raw and bloody now, marred by pounding his fists against the wall in countless futile efforts to relieve some of the anger that bubbled like molten lava within him.

Anger and hate were all he had right now, all that fueled his tired weary body to press on, to live through another torturous meaningless day. Hate was everything and Dean had plenty of it to go around. Hate for the Devil for wanting to rise and causing this biblical war to begin. Hate for God for daring to choose her, her, to be his ultimate weapon. Mostly, hate for her, for Liz, for allowing herself to be used, for letting herself simply accept her role in the battle, for dying…

He hadn’t realized until that last moment ,when she fell and her body lay bleeding and broken on the floor, that he had never told her that he loved her. Dean had never let himself utter what they both knew but he could never bring himself to say. She had said it, at the very end, with her last breath….she had managed to choke out those three words that cut into his soul. ‘I love you Dean.’ He had broken with those words, had shattered so completely that he knew he would never truly be whole again.

Fragmented and ruined.

Rage grew with every thought of her. He cursed this life.

He screamed for Cas everyday. He begged and pleaded for a crossroads demon to appear, because he would gladly make another deal, would happily and without hesitation sell his soul once again just to bring her back. But it seemed that both sides, heaven and hell, had left him alone, abandoned him to wallow in his misery without reprieve. Cries and prayers remained unanswered, not even so much as a ‘fuck you’ in response….just deafening silence.

Sam had tried to be there for him, had offered a shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear, had played the bartender and poured drink after drink even though Dean always turned them down. He loved his little brother for trying, and it wasn’t his fault…but the presence of anyone that wasn’t her only proved to further piss him off.

Oh how he wanted to drink, to dull the pain and wrap himself in the warm hazy comfort that only a bottle of Jack could provide, but he wouldn’t. He refused to lose himself to alcohol. He wouldn’t forget, lose the memory of her even for a moment, because a piece was still a piece and it was better than having nothing.

Dean clutched tightly to the worn leather of her jacket, the only tangible thing he had left of her, and inhaled the purely Liz aroma that clung steadfast to the lining. Sweet and spicy, a mixture of vanilla and heat. Her scent comforted him like nothing else could. It made him feel close, made him a little less empty. He relished that feeling even if it were nothing more than an illusion, a pale substitute.

He longed to touch her again, to feel the way her skin would glide underneath the rough pads of his fingers like smooth velvet. He ached to run his hands through her dark silken locks, to feel the way her hair splayed out across his chest like it always did when she curled up next to him.

More than anything else, he wished he had been able to make love to her, to go slow and explore and savor every touch and taste. It had always been rough, rash and harsh, never tender and easy the way it should have been, the way she had deserved it to be.

Dean closed his eyes tightly….he wished so many things.

But he had learned, a long time ago, that wishes don’t come true, especially not for him…never once for him.

Tears stung his eyes like acid, forcing their way out for the first time in weeks. His body shook, convulsing violently with each sob that wracked through him. His heart clenched tightly. His lungs burned as he gasped for every breath. He wrapped his fingers tighter around the jacket and fell to his knees with a loud thud.

Dean shattered.

It wasn’t fair, wasn’t right that everything he loved was always ripped suddenly and violently away - his mother, his father, now Liz. He felt damned, even after being saved.

His throat burned torturously as purely animal cry tore loose from somewhere deep within him, a scream of agony and mind numbing soul shattering pain.

He began to long for the pits of hell. He ached for the flames to lap at his skin. That was heaven compared to the sheer torment he felt now.

“Dean.”

A voice calling his name pulled him from his moment of desperation. His head remained low, eyes to the ground. He couldn’t will himself to look at the one who he knew had spoken.

“Why, Cas?”

His voice cracked, weak and broken. After weeks of calling for the angel and getting nothing in response, now…that was all he could ask, all he could say. He didn’t have the strength to yell anymore. “Why save me? Why pull me from hell if you were only going to rip out my fucking soul again?”

Dean felt Castiel kneel beside him, felt the angels hand rest on his shoulder in what appeared to be a genuine gesture of comfort. He choked back a sob, letting it stay down to fester within him, and raised his red swollen eyes from the floor.

Castiel sighed.

“You know it was not my call to make, Dean,” The angels voice was full of sorrow and regret and something else that Dean couldn’t quite figure out. “This was the way it had to be, how it had to happen. She was everything, I told you that in the beginning.”

Dean smiled and nodded sadly. He cried, not caring anymore, not minding that he was a shell of the man who he was mere weeks ago. Weakness, something that he tried so hard to never show, was no longer a concern at this point.

“But why make me love her?” he whispered. His eyes searched Cas, pleading for an answer. “Why make her who she was? Why make her live and breathe and move just for me? She was everything, Cas…” He trailed off, head dropping dejectedly. “Everything that mattered. Everything that was real.”

“Because, Dean,” Cas’s voice was different now, full of hope and vigor. The angel took Dean’s arm in his hands and pulled him to his feet. Dean’s knees quaked. “If she wasn’t everything to you, if you didn’t love her as deeply and purely as you do, she would have remained lost for good.”

Dean froze. His breath hitched. Time slowed to an excruciating halt. “What do you mean, would have?”

Cas smiled, the smile of a man with hope, something Dean wanted desperately to believe in. “I mean….”

“He means, without you, I wouldn’t have had a reason to come back.”

Her voice, her voice, that beautiful melodic impossible voice, made every nerve in his body come alive and sing. She stepped out as if from thin air, appearing behind Castiel in a light that was warm and triumphant, purely heaven. She radiated, she beamed. She was solid and whole and real and alive.

He couldn’t move….couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be real…couldn’t be.

He feared he had lost his mind, that at some point he had truly gone completely mad from grief.

“Liz?”

He didn’t even feel his lips move to form her name. It was almost silent, a whisper, a prayer. He stared, unblinking at her. Watching her smile, watching in awe as she moved towards him in graceful carefree strides. No more weight of the world on her shoulders. There was a light in her eyes, a hope, that hadn’t been there before.

“I missed you, Dean.”

The first touch of her skin, her arms wrapping around him, was purely electric. She sent a pulse of life rocketing through him, waking up his senses. His body jerked, arms pulling her towards him with bruising force, heart beating for what felt like the first time in years.

She was real.

“Oh God,” he whispered into her hair. He continued to hold her tightly, and she clung to him with equal force. He inhaled deeply, breathing her in, feeling her warmth. “How? How are you here? I prayed… oh god, I prayed so hard.”

Not that he cared how she was here, not that anything other than that simple fact mattered anymore. He was alive again. The world was alive again. There was light. There was her. There was a reason to live.

Dean could finally breathe.

“God heard you Dean. He heard every thought, every prayer. Felt every tear and every sob. He rewards those who sacrifice the most, Dean.” Castiel spoke warmly, a small rare smile on his face. “And you two. You fought and believed more than anyone thought possible. You sacrificed everything for Him. It’s only right you two be rewarded.”

After everything…after so much heartbreak and lose, sacrifice and tears, he had finally been found worthy of something. They had both died for some greater purpose, both been brought back and given another chance.

He forgot the world. He forgot Cas.

His eyes lifted to the heavens and he sobbed, still holding her, refusing to let go. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him emitting a blinding wonderful light that filled him in every possible sense of the word. Their lips met shakily. The kiss was tender and slow and he relished every second of it. He felt her melt into him, felt her fit back into the empty space she had left so seamlessly, as if she had never been missing at all.

He cried, leaning his head against hers, letting the warmth of her breath heat the skin on his cheek. “I love you.” He said the words that he had longed to say, the words that had haunted him in her absence.

She was light. She was life. She was alive.

It had always been her, would always be her.

Always his everything. Always.
Last edited by Traitor on Sat Aug 13, 2011 9:14 am, edited 3 times in total.
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