#broken crown.

[crucifisms]

[ the withdrawal has started big time, wracking his body with pains he can't even begin to describe. he hates this-- what he's become, what he's had to do. he doesn't even feel human anymore. ruby hasn’t answered her phone in three weeks, for god know whatever bullshit excuse she’s going to give him when he finally sees her again. dean’s probably out with cas-- the god squad, the squad ready to smite sam before he was even born. ]

[ sam's got his hands over his head, hunched down, trying to appear as small as possible. his dad's standing in front of him, telling him everything sam already knows. he's a disappointment. dean should have killed him already. ]

[crucifisms]

[ he doesn't know if it's the leftover awe from their meeting, or the absolute fear that angels now put into his veins, but sam can't help from stumbling back and away. castiel wouldn't come to him unless he had to. unless he was sent. ]

[ two minutes earlier and castiel would have borne witness to the boy king doing the drug of the monsters, and wouldn't that have been a conversation to have with an angel of the lord. ]

[ sam already knows he's not going to heaven when he dies; uriel made that absolutely, perfectly clear. he's just not a fan of being reminded of it a few times a day. ]

[ they fucked up the mission today; four new seals were broken, and somehow dean’s branded the loss sam’s fault, as everything always is these days. lilith’s stepping up her game, they were ambushed. if sam were stronger, if sam could practice using his powers more he could save them. he could get revenge and stop the bloodshed from coming. ]

Dean, uh-- Dean's inside. Probably sleeping. If that's what you came here for.

[ the younger winchester averts his eyes, looking down at the ground ( where he belongs ). if only castiel were here because of sam, because of sam's prayers. the angels never planned to listen anyways. not to him. ]

[crucifisms]

[ he's drunk. real drunk. he doesn't know the last time he got this drunk, got this fucking angry. he's entitled, he thinks. his brother's gone, taken from him like the rest of his goddamn family. so what if he wants to drown everything in drugs and alcohol and let himself waste away the rest of his days? ]

[ a voice in the back of his head reminds sam that this is not the life dean would have wanted for him, that this is not why dean sold his soul.

who fucking cares?

dean's gone, left him alone to rot. the selfish bastard doesn't have a say, for all sam cares at this point. ]

[ and maybe when sam finally gets revenge on all the assholes who did him and his wrong, he'll march into hell and take dean back himself, if sam’s not dead already. he is, after all, their prince. technically. ]

[crucifisms]

[ whispered, barely any sound coming from between lips in action-- ]

God, grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change--