#jackdeservesbetter

[trchwoodthree]

reblog if you think jack deserves better.

[destieltrash-sabrielrubbish]

"Dean, look! I did it! I made the pencil move!" "Freak." "Dean, I want to be just like you some day." "Alright, cut it out!" "I'll be good for you Dean, just watch me." "You're the son of Lucifer." "One day you'll be proud." "I'll be the one to kill you." "My father's Dead, is that why you hate me?" "Cas isn't your dad." "Maybe I am just a monster." "You don't deserve to be saved." "A monster just like my Dad." The blood is everywhere, staining his hands, his clothes. The lifeless body of everyone he loves, everyone that still had a chance, lays scattered around him. His head throbs as he looks up at the smirking Nephilim above him. When had he finally snap? What had been the last straw? Somehow he had lost the upper hand, let things grow out of control. Damn, he wishes Cas were here. He'd know how to fix this mess. He was always cleaning up Dean's messes. "I told you I'd be just like you someday." The taunt hits him below the belt but he doesn't flinch, doesn't move away from the red soaked kid in front of him. Instead he just drops the bag of uneaten food on to the floor beside him and let's his shoulders slump forward. "Come on Jack, was this really what you wanted, you don't want to kill me man." To him his voice sounds withdrawn, far away. Jack's next words ring clear as a bell, slapping him in the face. "Hm. I don't think you deserve to be saved." The knife that lodges into his chest rings true, marking the exact place that Dean had stabbed Cas the first night they'd met. If he could, he would have laughed at the irony, but just as the world fades black around him he shoots up in bed, panting. Sweat covering his entire body, soaking through his clothes and sticking to the sheets. He looks around the room and sighs in relief. It was just another dream. Probably fuelled by large amounts of alcohol and repeatedly listening to that damn mixed tape. Jack hasn't killed anyone, not yet.