a man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he's still left with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he's still left with his hands.
( half-glazed eyes focus on a floating form, the blood pounding through his ears— he can’t keep a straight thought—- )
❝— i’m…❞
( his temples throb, a face before his own, a familiar face —- sam. he winces, and the fog parts for a moment, but only just. )
❝fuggin’ peachy.❞
concern clouds his features, tugging his mouth into a frown. his brain switches immediately to hazard mode, cataloguing any external injuries and searching out imperfections.
[there’s nothing there, not really, other than the raw, scraped state of dean’s knuckles. ]
❝ what’s wrong? —- are you hurt? ❞
strong hands grab gently at the sides of his brother’s face, thumbs coming to rest just before dean’s temples.
The second worst day in Dean’s life is the day he turns one year too old for the opportunity to volunteer in his younger brother’s place. The absolute worst is when Sam Winchester’s name is plucked from the glass bowl.
“Twenty-four of us go in, Dean. Only one comes out. And if another tribute doesn’t get you, then the Gamemakers will.”
“That’s not gonna happen, Sammy. Because you’re gonna win.”
❝ if i go with you… can you promise that this time it will be final? that if i’m dead, i stay dead. nobody can reverse it, nobody can deal it away…… and nobody else can get hurt because of me. ❞
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rex (rɛks; Eng. rɛks)
n., pl. re•ges (ˈrɛ gɛs; Eng. ˈri dʒiz)
Latin.
——————— king. puerīlis ( pŭĕrīlis ) m, f (neuter puerīle); third declension From puer (“boy”) + -īli Latin.
boyish, youthful ———————