lovefromthehero:

                    When what started?

          [ he’s pretty sure he knows anyways, despite the question, and all at once he’s back in lawrence, sammy bundled in his arms. all at once he can feel the heat of the fire on his face, can see the fear in his dad’s eyes. the sadness. the agony. the darkness. something died in john winchester’s eyes that night. dean noticed. ]

                    Four. Pretty sure your mom already told you the details.

          [ every day that goes past leaves dean farther and farther away from her. ever day that passes, he forgets just a little more what she smelled like, or what it felt like when her hair tickled his chin, when she’d kiss him goodnight. her voice, the sweet lull it held when she rocked him to sleep, or the softness of her hands. ]

❝no, she didn’t. i asked, you know, 
but it’s your business. we harvelle’s
don’t gossip.❞

there’s a lot of things that harvelle’s
don’t do. they don’t cry. they don’t
beg. they aren’t selfish, or pushovers,
andthey don’t step down. under any
circumstances.

no one tells you, growing up, that
there are laws that come with name
you’re given. they come from the
people that have you, and they stay
with you, always.

she gathers what little she knows
in the forefront of her mind. presents
it in the cool air between them, her
voice soft, head turned toward him. 

❝— i know she died, your mom.
john became a hunter, then you
boys… and that’s it. ❞