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prompt-and-circumstances · 5 years

Text

We Were All Medicated

Characters/Pairings: No Pairings! OCs, Reader Insert, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Prompt: Medicated (from A Brand New Hurt by Louden Swain) for the 2018 Louden Swain FanFic FanArt Project (third year!) by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Word Count: 1,997

Warning(s): Angst, Sorrow, Guilt, Death. Look here, this piece hit me in the feels and I’m the joker who wrote it!

A/N: This is a reposting of last year’s challenge piece. It is the sequel to the 2016 Louden Swain Challenge piece “Pop Tart Heart.” All lyrics were used and are not bold or marked in any other way. I didn’t want them standing out like a sore thumb, I wanted this to read smoothly. This can be read in one of two ways: the first way is to go back and read Pop Tart Heart first and then this piece. The second way is to just read this fic as a standalone piece. I do reference the first piece and summarize it in one paragraph within this piece. There will not be a part three, the story ends here.

We Were All Medicated

Holy Chuck. That totally hurt. Of course, that was expected. What wasn’t expected was how relieving the pavement actually was. One would naturally assume that when you get knocked down onto pavement, you a) get the wind knocked clean out of you and b) you get hurt in two directions. Once from the attack and second from the pavement catching your flesh and bones. You braced yourself for more beatings from the group, but they walked away once you hut the ground. Weirdest bullies ever.

You just lay there for a few minutes, okay, maybe more than a few. The pavement seemed to caress the treads of your distress; it was as if the coolness from the concrete was seeping into your very being and washing away the stress, and pain, and guilt. Oh, how you wanted to lay there for eternity! But as Tommy always said, “you gotta grip onto that cow as your seat and speed the plow.”

To be honest, you didn’t have clue one what in the hell that actually meant, but you always assumed it was his version of the age-old adage “if you fall off the horse, get back on.” Good ‘ole Tommy Bandenberry. He was your best friend your entire life until he died with the rest of the scholastic team in a freak bus accident. One year later, that creep Colin Rottergut raised them and the entire cemetery with voodoo. You, your boyfriend Toby, Tommy’s little sister Chelsea, and your nerdy friend Maddox banded together and defeated the zombie dudes. The town “re-died” because of two strange men, brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. They apparently did this stuff for a living. They stopped Colin and made the four of you swear to never get into hunting monsters.

And the four of you kept to that promise. At least, you tried. You were seniors in high school when the zombie apocalypse happened. Then you all went off to college and not the same ones. You and Chelsea went to one, Toby to another, and Maddox got into an Ivy League school and none of you were surprised. The guy was a total nerd. You all genuinely gave that promise the college try…but it wasn’t enough.

You still didn’t know what happened to Maddox, it was like he ceased to exist or something except you still remembered him. He disappeared without a trace, it’s honestly the damnedest thing. You certainly hoped it had nothing to do with the actual damned. According to the Winchester brothers, monsters are real so it only makes sense that angels and demons are real too, right?

You got into this series of books in college, Supernatural. Some guy named Chuck Shurley wrote them, and they were scarily accurate. You and Chelsea started saying things like, “I swear to Chuck,” and “Oh my Chuck” instead of God’s name. Neither of you knew if God was real, but this Chuck fellow seemed like a good substitute. He just knew too much. You always wondered if the Winchester brothers knew about him and his novels. Did he even have their permission to write that stuff much less print it?

You and Chelsea even got a book club going on campus for those novels. Everyone thought it was great fiction, but you and Chelsea knew the truth. They were real. A slight breeze washes over you and reminds you, you’re still lying on that pavement. You sit up but continue to sit on the cool pavement. You know, for a sidewalk it was awfully clean. There weren’t any markings, or gum spits, or dog droppings, or anything. Not even chalk from a kid during summer. It was just so, pure.

“Like your words, so gentle in their reflection in my window. I knew you would be the kind of girl I could talk to.” Chelsea was special, she was super girly and followed all the latest cosmetic trends. The girl never had a strand of hair out of place and didn’t know how to not accessorize anything and everything. She was a beauty queen, but she was also kind and bubbly. Everyone always assumes the pretty ones are mean, but she wasn’t. She refused to be placed into that mold. She was Tommy’s little sister after all, so you guys have known each other forever.

You remembered when they moved into your neighborhood, right next door to you. You were both five years old. You were sick with a cold and watched them unpack from the window in the downstairs living room. You were so curious but couldn’t join your parents outside to greet and help. You had to stay inside. That’s when you met her. She must have seen you watching them, and she practically bounced over to your window, breathed on it and started writing on it. The two of you did that for hours while the grown-ups unpacked. You’ve been best friends ever since.

Chelsea and Maddox always had a thing in high school. Maddox always seemed a little strange and sometimes you both wished he was a little less insane. All that nerd mumbo jumbo made your heads spin, but not in that creepy Exorcist way. Maddox was always proclaiming, “I may be crazy, at least I’m medicated!” He was such a dweeb sometimes but he always made you guys laugh. The guy was a true gem. You just can’t believe he’s gone without a trace.

Toby went looking for him a few months back. Your boyfriend was eerily protective of you, ever since the zombie dudes incident. He was hell-bent on making sure you didn’t lose another friend and take the blame for it, especially when it couldn’t possibly be your fault to begin with. You remembered calling Toby and telling him to stop the search. You could feel your gut telling you, this wasn’t normal. Something happened, a Winchester kind of thing, and you guys made a promise. A pact even. You were not to go a-hunting.

You turn your head to the sky; the sun is beginning to fade and the Nebraska sky is showing why it’s Nebraska. You sigh, still not ready to stand up on the pavement. You’re getting too lost in your thoughts and memories. “I was intense, you said. To that I silently took offense while you laughed, but I didn’t think it was funny.” Toby insisted your gut instinct was just fear and he continued searching. Two months ago, there was a report on the news, a young man had been found. Dead. Toby was dead. No one knew how, when, where, or why. He was just found. Police say where he was found is not where he died.

You never even went to the funeral. He should have listened! Tommy, Maddox, Toby, and then your worst fear realized; it was Chelsea’s turn. She invited you to some weird ass event her beauty class was doing, and you agreed to go but never made it. You got swamped at work and then your car stalled. You tried to call and let her know you’d be late and possibly miss the event altogether. She never picked up. You assumed, and justly so as any person would, that she was busy with her event. The next morning you got her voicemail, Hey, it’s Chelsea. It’s filling up in here so I was saving your place. I was scared you’d be replaced and I didn’t want to sit with a stranger. Hope to see you soon!

It was cryptic to say the least. Fear of getting replaced? You never did figure out what she was talking about. Later that afternoon, she was declared missing and three weeks later her body turned up, just like Toby’s. You were the only one left. You couldn’t stop asking yourself if their deaths were your fault. It seemed like the only common denominator in everyone’s deaths was you. So how could you stop yourself from making the same mistake?

You knew you couldn’t go looking for Maddox and you couldn’t try to discover what happened to Toby and Chelsea. You placed a call to Dean’s phone and Sam’s phone as back up, in case Dean didn’t get the call. You left messages on each. You never heard from them either. You felt utterly helpless. And alone.

Whatever was coming for you, you knew it was coming. It had to be. You did attend Chelsea’s funeral. It was awful. The only thing as awkward as goodbye, was standing up in your seat to let her by. You should have been a pall bearer, but you just couldn’t handle it. You didn’t know how you fought the tears back as her casket solemnly made its way past you.

The pavement’s coolness seemed to finally dissipate. It took you way too long to realize that it was backwards. In the hot afternoon sun, it should have been warm and in the evening, it should have been cool. It was cool in the afternoon and cold in the evening. You thought on it, and it seemed as if everything else was normal except for that one thing. The pavement was horribly off, like someone forgot how it worked when they made a world just for you. A world. Just for you.

Sam and Dean were very solemn as they built a funeral pyre. They were preparing yet another hunter’s funeral. This one was different though. They were used to burning their friends and family, that was the hunters’ way after all but this was for a kid. A kid they knew once, a kid they rescued and swore to secrecy. The Winchesters had gotten the kid’s phone messages too late; they arrived too late. The brothers had investigated the deaths of Toby and Chelsea, and while it took a little longer to get done, they did find Maddox.

Maddox was just as dead as the other two were. Sam and Dean tried to keep hope that they could save the last one, but they were just too damn late. Two years ago, they taught these kids about hunting and monsters, but they clearly didn’t teach enough. The Winchesters hoped none of the kids were aware of what happened, that the dreams were real enough so they’d never know the Djinn were feeding off of them.

They burned the carcass of Maddox where they found him, and Toby and Chelsea had been properly buried. They didn’t have the heart to dig them up to burn them; they wanted to leave them undisturbed for the grieving parents. Sam struggled to light the match, his tall frame sagging with sorrow. He remembered how brave this kid was, two years ago leading the assault against a zombified town. He knew he’d never meet this kid again, never speak again.

Dean was blaming himself. “Dean, it wasn’t your fault.” Sam tried to console his older brother.

“I know Sammy, I just can’t help thinking if I had gotten to my phone sooner. Maybe in another life, maybe we could have been…”

“I know, I know.” Sam choked back tears, “maybe we could have saved them, all of them. But we didn’t, we couldn’t. You remember the Djinn, it’s likely these kids died pain free, not knowing what was happening. We can take that with us, knowing they didn’t suffer.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just light the damn thing up, I want to get back on the road.”

Sam just looked at Dean and bit his tongue. Dean was dying inside and standing here watching an innocent kid burn in a funeral pyre, was just too much right now. Sam flicked the lighter on and tossed it onto the mound. Neither brother would ever admit it, but each said a silent prayer to Chuck to watch over these kids in heaven. Sam prayed for Chelsea to be reunited with her brother Tommy, and Dean just prayed that they’d have better heavens than they did final medicated dreams.

#2018 louden swain fanfic fanart project #medicated #A brand new hurt #louden swain #supernatural fanfiction #SPN Fanfic Pond

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