Wednesday, 10/13/2010 - Dawn

[jlsigman.livejournal.com]

Good morning, y'all! My name is jlsigman, and I'm your guest hostess for the week who is up way too early this morning thanks to a 6 month old kitten who loves the prompt. :-p

Today's prompt is: dawn. That wonderful time before the sun comes up. That terrible time when the night ends. Which way is it seen?

As always, please keep the following few rules in mind:
- No more than five prompts in a row, and no more than three per fandom. Remember, as soon as someone takes on one of your prompts, you can pop another.
- No spoilers in your prompts for at least seven days after air; if there are spoilers in your fic, warn in bold in the subject line and leave at least three spaces.
- As a former codeslinger, I beg you to please do be kind to our codemonkeys and format your prompts correctly, like so:

Any, any/any, Now started another long day
Final Fantasy XIII, Snow/Serah, Their first dawn together on Pulse
Godspeaker trilogy, Rhian/Alasdair, The dawn hid the damage from the invasion

tag=dawn

Comments

The Night Reveals What the Sun Hides

[sandandglass.livejournal.com]

This is super, super angsty. I apologize in advance how big of downer this is.

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Dean lies on the hood of his car, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey held loosely in his hand. He watches with half opened eyes as the sun rises over the Ohio River. The river looks deceptively still in the early morning, like glass reflecting the rising sun’s rays. Up close he knows that the river’s current is running fast, swollen with the spring rains. Only hours before with night surrounding and hiding him from prying eyes, he had contemplated that river’s cold depths debating in his liquor soaked pain the pros and cons of its embrace. But in the end, he had stumbled away wondering if it was cowardice or bravery that stayed his hand once again from doing what his heart most wanted.

His mind is now numb, exhausted from drink and the turbulent emotions that brought him to this spot. He watches the light dancing on the river and a phrase ghosts across his mind, unbidden, “The night is always darkest before the dawn.” He snorts at the nonsense. What a big pile of horse shit that is. There is no light at the dawn. A new day doesn’t bring sunshine and roses and chirpy birds. A new day just means nothing has changed. He’s still here, living. And Sam is still there, burning and suffering. No, the dawn doesn’t change anything at all. At least the night is honest about its darkness. He lays his head back on the windshield and closes his eyes, allowing his exhaustion to overcome him as he rejects the lies of the sun.

Re: The Night Reveals What the Sun Hides

[drabblewriter.livejournal.com]

Gosh, poor Dean. Thank for the fill.