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They used to be called The Family Winchester. People came from miles around to see their act, knowing their names and faces before the circus even rolled into town. Life was shiny with salt and sawdust, sequins and smiles. Now, all that was left were a few crumpled posters, an empty bunk next to Dean's, and the leather-gripped knives hidden in the trick pockets of his vest.
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The Precision of The Fall by snarklyboojum
They used to be called The Family Winchester. People came from miles around to see their act, knowing their names and faces before the circus even rolled into town. Life was shiny with salt and sawdust, sequins and smiles. Now, all that was left were a few crumpled posters, an empty bunk next to Dean's, and the leather-gripped knives hidden in the trick pockets of his vest. -
Bookmark Notes:
"When the building started to collapse I didn’t think, I just… went in after you. Then I gripped you tight and ran. I didn’t want you to die then, I still don’t. I don’t regret saving you, Dean. It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“Don’t say that, Cas. You don’t mean it.” How could he? Cas was a good person, Dean knew that. How could Dean be anything but worthless compared to him?
Cas was right in front of Dean now, eyes burning and stubbornly refusing to look away. “I do mean it, Dean. You deserved to be saved.”