Fraternal | Part 3
You watched numbly as he tore through a man, then two more.
Like tissue paper.
Tissue paper people.
His neck craned around almost 180 degrees to look right at you through the lens of the camera. For the first time in eight months you looked into the unrecognizable eyes of your twin, his black orbs deeply set and utterly remorseless. Dean x Reader.
Grief | Reader
You couldn’t remember where you heard it, but somewhere you remembered hearing that living with your grief was like swimming in the ocean tide.
Some days you would have calm seas, others you would have hurricanes.
There was no getting around it it.
Today was a hurricane.
Have you ever tried to swim inland in a riptide?
I didn’t think so. You wouldn’t be here now.
You have to swim with the current, not against it.
Grief is the same.
You have to feel it.
You have to let it take over, if only for a moment.
Swim with the current.
Let it wash over you.
Only then will you find that you can swim with the tide and become stronger for having survived.
Sitting in the back of a Greyhound bus on your way into the city you were thankful that there weren’t many passengers. Normally you would have Dean to lean on, even if only for a moment.
Now there was just you and the cold steel of the knife you had stolen.
You had survived.