Broken Hero.

I’ve travelled around a lot, met so many different people, and loved some of them more than others. People find my tales of the people I’ve met fascinating, they always ask about the acquaintances, friends and enemies I’ve made along the way. A question that has popped up many times is ‘Who will you always remember?’ and every time I remember the same thing. That cocky laugh of confidence, that cheeky smile which always made my own lips turn upright despite my mood and the puppy dog eyes that made my heart melt to just a puddle.

Dean Winchester.

That boy is a fragile structure held together by a fake smile despite his confidence. So many dark secrets tearing at his confidence, the connection from his mind to his lips is severed to prevent the skeletons in his closet from consuming everybody around to him. He prefers it this way, it’s a lame attempt at keeping each person he keeps in his heart safe.

He may put on an act, he may smile at everyone, laugh and flirt with anything in a skirt but it’s all just to make him forget the horrific things he’s seen throughout his life. He ends each night with a bottle of beer, just so he can use the alcohol fucking up his brain as a liable excuse for the nightmares filling his mind when he’s asleep. But they’re not dreams to him, they are his life and if anyone else found out about it he would be alone even more than usual.

It was his daily beer that introduced me to him, he was sat at the bar with his bottle catching the bartenders eye and then letting his attention be drawn over her curves. He hasn’t noticed me at first, he was too busy thawing the bartenders morals with those god damn puppy dog eyes to notice any other woman. It was only when it was obvious the bartender was well ‘acquainted’ with half the bar that he noticed me. Like him, sat alone with a drink. I knew he was going to come over, I could see it in that smirk.

Sure enough, he came over and began flirting, spilling some tale about him being an agent for a modelling company and that I was what they were looking for. Any other girl would have swooned at the thought, and sucked up to him badly to get this opportunity that would never happen, but I could see something in those eyes. Those emerald eyes were covered by shadows, and the way his orifice moved it was clear he was fighting back a confession.

As the night went on, I managed to prise away his armour that was guarding the mystery that was Dean Winchester. It didn’t seem like much of a fight though, it was clear he was close to bursting with the weight of his life; he was grateful to have someone willing to listen. He told me that the longest he’s ever been in one place was when he was born, in Laurence, Kansas. He lived there until he was around four, until there was a house fire and then from then on he had been all over the country. He mainly skipped over the details, never saying exactly what gave him the nightmares, why he feared for his brothers safety and his attachment to his car as a way of being close to his father.

He said he’d seen things that my imagination would never be able to conjure up, and if I was to see them my eyes would simply ignore it because society and my mind couldn’t acknowledge it was real. He said there were things out there, horrible things that would rip the world apart, but they weren’t just in the shadows at midnight. They were in happiness, they were where you least expected them. They were everywhere, and he was just one of the unlucky ones to have to face these everyday.

Out of everyone I have met, he is the bravest one of them all, but he is also the most cowardly towards life. He is stunning with an ugly background tearing at his soul. He is sunshine on a rainy day, but the reminder that there is bad weather on the horizon.

He is a broken hero fighting to keep those thoughts away.