Semi-Automatic (What Are Your Prayers?)

[deantestines]

Title: Semi-Automatic (What Are Your Prayers?)
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Teen and +
Ship: Dean Winchester/Original Male Character (Alexander Robins)
Warnings: None!
Word Count: 982
What's in here?: Hallucinations, Angst, Dead Children
Summary: Hallucinations and missing what's not there.

There was a smell permeating throughout the motel. Normally there is, but not this bad. It was just as uncomfortable as the lumpy bed itself. Alexander stretched, though it looked more like some kind of flail. The nightstand lamp was off, as were all the lights. Al wasn't incredibly dressed but he wasn't indecent, and it was too late to be in bed but he had a migraine for half the day so he laid in bed anyway.

The vent rattled and the gray cold of the metal seeped into the walls, or what you could see of them. The darkness was too dark to still be awake.

"Dad?" Sweat made itself noticeable on his skin. He shot up immediately and it hurt his head, his eyes straining to see in the dark.

He knew he recognized that voice and he'd heard more of it than he ever should've since the source died.

"Daddy?" No.

Oh god. His son was right in front of him and at the exact age, the exact age he was when he..

"Danny.. Oh, Danny…" He saw him. The clearest thing in the dark room, nothing about him had changed.

"I missed you, daddy…"

"I- I know." Al glanced at the door like someone might be there to save them, just in case it was a ghost. No one was there. Sam and Dean were out, out without him. Danny walked closer to him and he felt something in his stomach welling up: be it nausea, be it despair, be it sorrow. Be it fear. Be it nothing.

"I know, Danny, I.." He almost fell off the edge if the bed, his feet were unstable so he landed on his knees. It brought him down to the height of his son. "I missed you, too, sunshine."

His son was so little, still, so little. He never got taller. Never grew facial hair, he'd never get a girlfriend. He'd never grow up. Immortalized in this small form, but still a person. A person Al would never really get to know. He just wanted to touch his little face once, once, even if it wasn't him. But wasn't it him? His bones were burned, so it must be…

Al had learned it's not really all that hard to come back from the dead.

"Al?" He looked towards the source of the gravelly voice, but then put his eyes right back on Danny. "Can I turn these lights on?"

"Please." The lights hurt when they turned on. It clouded his vision and he swallowed, he needed to be able to see his son.

"Can.. Can you see him?"

Dean looked at Al and then into the general direction he was staring. He put a bag on the table near the door and it made a heavy noise. Al flinched. "See who?"

"It's Danny."

"It's…" Dean dropped the rest of the stuff he was holding and dragged Al away from what was not there.

"Dean, let go of me, it's him."

"It's not him, Al listen to me." Dean dragged him to his side of the bed, rummaging through the drawers and pulling out the pill organizer. "You probably forgot to take your medication with all the hubbub this morning." All the days that were supposed to be empty were empty. "You probably just…"

Danny was following his dad around like he always used to do. His favorite stuffed animal was dragging on the ground behind him.

"Dad?" Al didn't ever want Danny to see him like this, this far away from a father, this far away from a person.

"No, Danny, uhm-" Al tried to keep Danny's little hands away from the pills, but Dean wouldn't let him move.

"He's not there, Al, he's dead. He's not coming back." Danny couldn't reach the organizer in Dean's hands. "You took your pills."

"Dean, it-" Tears fell into his mouth. "It's him, its actually him this time, I know it, let me-" He scratched at Dean's arms, leaving a small cut.

"Did you take something?" Dean got down on his level and held his shoulder. He couldn't get Al to meet his eyes. He wasn't exactly the most eye catching thing in the room.

"No, Dean, it's him."

Danny looked so upset. 'Daddy, what's going on?"

"Dean let go!" Al saw Dean's arm between him and his son and let his teeth sink into it like a ripe fruit.

"Ow!" Dean wrenched his arm out from the grip of Al's teeth. Maybe purposefully or possibly accidentally elbowing him in the face. "Its not him, Al! Look at me."

Dean finally got Al's eyes off of Danny.

"Look at me."

Al looked at him.

When he looked back to Danny there was no one there.

He stopped struggling.

"You okay?" Al stared at nothing. Specifically the nothing that used to be something, or the illusion of it.

"No." He thought of what he wanted to see and let that line pull his gaze back into Dean's eyes. "You?"

"Nothin' a bandage can't.." He looks at the bags by the door. "Shit, I knew we forgot something."

Al made unpleasant eye contact with the unpleasant carpet, sniffling. "I miss him."

He found himself pulled into a hug and he assumed it was Dean's doing.

"I know. " Dean said.

"He was so small." Al buried his face in the crevice of Dean's neck, he smelled nice. "A little over 3 feet tall. 3'5, last time we ever measured him. There was a mark on the door frame, we had to- to get it out before we moved out."

"I know."

"God, he was only six." Al gripped onto Dean, but not tight. A tight hold would require strength he might not have for the next week.

"I know."

Dean kissed his forehead and brought a little of that strength back.