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Summary
"This was the price to pay to maybe, maybe, maybe one day be accepted as part of the group. He just had to show them that he could be useful, he could be good. He could rise above the curse of being a Dixon, he could make them forget the unpleasantness that stuck to his skin more stubbornly than dirt. If he tried hard enough, maybe they could stop thinking about how stupid and rash and undeserving he was. And even if they couldn’t, maybe they could simply overlook it, overlook him, forget that they were supposed to have an opinion on him in the first place. He would never give them another reason to cast him out. Then, he could stay."
Or, the one in which Daryl overworks himself and the group deals with the aftermath.
Set in between season 2 and 3 (before the prison).for my readers: I am SO SORRY for not updating, I am currently dealing with some stuff irl. I'm NOT abandoning the fic, I will be back in March with the final chapters <3
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It’s usually like this: when they’re particularly busy and preoccupied, when Dean starts feeling worried and guilty and angry at the world, his drinking will kick up a notch; then, as things get better, as problems get solved and they get more than two seconds to breathe and regroup, Dean gets an hang on himself and slowly, slowly, sobers up. Nothing mayor, but he doesn’t get shitfaced every night at least. Sam can only imagine his liver’s relief.
This time, though, things are different. After a while, Sam starts to feel like he might be missing something; he has to be, because Dean’s not stopping.
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Dean wears short sleeves when he’s with Sam. Only when he’s with Sam. He’s embarrassed of the way his arms look, he thinks they’re gross; Sam doesn’t, though. Sam says that it’s okay for the scars to be out in the open, that he doesn’t need to feel ashamed. What he doesn’t say is that it’s also easier to make sure that there’s no new ones, that way, but they both know it.
It’s routine. Dean wears short sleeves. Sam checks on him.
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Love is a pretty girl with long curls that kisses you after work and scolds you when you inevitably leave your dirty shoes scattered on the floor. Love is growing old and having kids and buying flowers for St. Valentine’s Day, it’s seeing her smile and feeling happy, is kissing her at night and being sure that sleep will come fast. Love is soft and warm and so, so fucking easy.
Devotion is different. Devotion is heart-breaking.
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Every time Dean was questioned about his father– by the police, by the school, by the Social Services…– he never actually had to lie. They all looked at him, saw the bruises on his body, saw the haunted look in his eyes, and wanted to know if John was being violent. If he was beating him.
Dean always laughed in their faces . It was not his father’s fault if his life was a mess, if he was screwed in the head, if he always ended up bloody at the end of the day.
And how could it be? After all, John wasn’t even there. He never was.
Recent bookmarks
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Not Easily Conquered by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFears
Fandom Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
07 Jul 2015
- Words:
- 117,692
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 9,319
Bookmarked by euthasia
12 Aug 2018

