Characters: Dean Winchester
Word Count: 344
Warnings: none, just a wee bit of angst
A/N: Set Post AHBL2, no real spoilers. The POV could be seen as Dean's or that of an omniscient third-person narrator. Thanks to engel82 and skye2477 for being ever-helpful betas! Will be cross-posted to sn_fic and dean_sam
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no money is being made, no copyright infringement intended! "Supernatural" and its characters are owned by Eric Kripke, Warner Brothers, the CW network, et al. This is fiction written entirely for entertainment purposes only. Not mine; don't sue, please. I repeat: not mine.
Summary: When the end comes, how will Dean face it?
Every day, as the minutes tick down and the seconds fly by, Dean Winchester wonders if his life is like a candle or a fuse…
As his last years slips away, heartbeat by heartbeat, his life slowly draining into the earth, expanding into the universe until the hell hounds come to collect their prize, will he slowly melt and diminish and finally sputter until the wax of life is gone, and a tiny breeze snuffs him out, gone forever? Will he leave behind only a puddle of unfinished business, melted and indecipherable, stuck to the surface of the earth, but not enough to be really useable—an extinguished candle, no longer providing light?
Or is his life burning down, sizzling and sparking away, glowing like embers, hissing with anticipation of the explosion it promises when time is up? Will Dean leave his mark upon the world like an explosion, reshaping and reforming everything in its wake? Bending life and death and form, leaving the universe forever changed.
Is his death the end, an abyss of nothingness, uselessness, passivity—at least on earth? Will his soul languish and suffer in hell without any ability to affect the world above? When he’s gone, will he be gone, powerless—able to fight no more?
Or is his death the beginning, a nascent promise that grows and swells and builds as the days and months burn away? Will his death be an opportunity? A chance to break out and fight anew—unbounded power as his soul is released? Whether a destructive force for retaliation against the forces of hell or a constructive vanguard, ushering in a new era, a role of influence nonetheless—Dean Winchester fighting back against a lifetime of sacrifice?
Of course, candle wax can be reformed around a new wick, and sometimes fuses burn out too early (or their bombs are duds), but Dean thinks, I’d rather not sputter and die or melt away, but let loose with a bang, go down with a fight. His life, his decision; not a candle, but a fuse.