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I just sent the coordinates to Dean. Another hunt, another risky situation, yet it surely is one case my son has to take. Fitchburg is a hole in the middle of nowhere but the monster that almost took my kid away from me, is there; preying on other children who need any help they can get, and I can’t provide it. Dean and Sammy can though.
I am detached from this world, have been for a while. My only focus is in reaching out the yellow eye demon in time, finishing it once and for all, laying down my weary head and know some peace, just for a little while.
Giving these coordinates to Dean is the safest course of action, the best choice. I can’t face him after the way I reacted at the original onset; I also cannot provide him the type of closure this successful hunt can give him. Gosh, what could I ever offer him of worth anyway?
Of course, can anyone ever describe how your heart speedup and stop at the same time when you face the impending death of your baby? Coming back to the motel at Fort Douglas was an ordeal in itself. Dry mud was caking my clothes, the cold was seeping in my bones, the hunger was gnawing at my guts, and the overwhelming apprehension accompanying my every steps hunting that freaking shtriga, hearing the cries of families torn apart in its wake, feeling my cold heart breaking for them, when I thought I barely had enough in me to care for my little ones was the icing on top of that crappy day.
Compassion is not a word I use or understand, fear never factors in my choice and actions; yet, I felt so jaded that instead of finishing the hunt I felt compelled to reach out to my kids, hold them in my arms, return to them. Finding the fiend I was chasing sucking the life out of my little Sammy showed me in seconds what my real weakness was and still is. Mary’s precious children, my strong and trusting boys could be taken away from me anytime I leave them alone, anytime a new pursuit forces me to leave them behind. Tears fell then and fall now. They fell for the life we almost lost and for the one I devastated; my harsh words to Dean never erased, never forgotten. They fall now because of the load all these past and current separations really weighted on each of our lives.
Things do fade in the background: I trust in my boys abilities and smart, I truly believe in my heart of heart that my children are safe, will stay safe, fuck were safe. How wrong was I then, am I still wrong now? Should I really leave this unfinished business in the hands of Dean, force Sam to face a monster he was never aware he beat – by the thread of his hair, but beat nevertheless? I won’t second guess my path now; I just will have to find in me the strength for a little prayer to be sent in their way…
And do my own little thanks for knowing that as adults they at least have much more protection, guts, experience and intelligence. How I wish I could have given them just a little something more and quite rare in our world, quite overrated in my book but still so valued by everyone else, innocence…
Crossposted at my LJ: http://spankedbyspike.livejournal.com/2742.html