I love this like Jared loves candy and Jensen's peen.
Lots. (In case you were wondering).
I love that, even in a world without hunting, John in still a hunter, the boys are still in training, and Dean is still trying to live up to his father's expectations and take care of his little brother. Caught in between both of them, and Sam...
Guh, you're breaking my heart with him! His angst and confusion and hormones and want, for a normal life, for acceptance, for the safety of his family, for Dean's time and love and happiness...
And pretty much this whole part (and, well, the whole fic, but y'know):
“Well its just, do you really think I'd make a good cop?” Dean's voice breaks a little in the middle of his question. Sam watches it all play out in front of him, like he's not really there. Its surreal, except that its not. This is real and he's so scared he could cry.
John's been a cop his whole life. Sam figures he should be used to it by now, but he's not, and apparently he's never going to be. Everytime he hears something on the news, everytime he hears sirens, his chest aches and he just knows that one of those times its going to be his dad in the middle of a robbery or a gunfight. No one's lucky forever. Now, Dean's going to do the same thing to him. The room starts to spin a little and Sam braces his hand against the wall as they talk.
“Dean,” John grins, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Sam's always hated the way he does that, like they're more like buddies than father and son. Sometimes he thinks John doesn't know the difference. “You're a Winchester, son. Its in your blood. My dad, my dad's dad. All of us, Dean. Its your turn.”
Dean's eyes flick over to Sam's, sees them filled with hurt and worry, about to brim over with tears, then up at his father, so full of pride he looks like he'll burst any second.
“What do you say, son? Should I give Bryant a call?”
Dean's eyes flicker back to Sam. He knows how Sam feels about John's line of work, how much he worries, how he prays every night that John will make it home safe and alive, but Dean also knows that his dad is right. He can't work at the garage for the rest of his life and Sam's already planning to go off to college and leave them. Then he wouldn't even have a reason to hang around the house. “Yeah, Dad.” His mouth speaks before his brain is even finished processing the information. “Make the call.”
The next thing Dean hears is the front door slamming and just like that, Sam's gone.
Oh, boys. Just as broken as ever, so dependent on each other and their father and not ever quite getting what they need...or being brave enough or knowing to say they want it, to take it.
Well, until Sam, “You don't understand,” Sam sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, and looks up at Dean. “You. I can't. I don't have anybody else.” His eyes close, face falling forward until his forehead is pressed against Dean's and he can feel Dean's breath on his lips when he exhales through his nose. He holds onto Dean as tight as he can, like he thinks it might change something. He wants to stay like this, just like this, wrapped up inside the one person he thinks might actually love him, forever.
Okay, done quoting and worshipping and hurting for these boys now, k? Beautiful, hun ;)
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Date: 2008-11-20 05:15 pm (UTC)Lots. (In case you were wondering).
I love that, even in a world without hunting, John in still a hunter, the boys are still in training, and Dean is still trying to live up to his father's expectations and take care of his little brother. Caught in between both of them, and Sam...
Guh, you're breaking my heart with him! His angst and confusion and hormones and want, for a normal life, for acceptance, for the safety of his family, for Dean's time and love and happiness...
And pretty much this whole part (and, well, the whole fic, but y'know):
“Well its just, do you really think I'd make a good cop?” Dean's voice breaks a little in the middle of his question. Sam watches it all play out in front of him, like he's not really there. Its surreal, except that its not. This is real and he's so scared he could cry.
John's been a cop his whole life. Sam figures he should be used to it by now, but he's not, and apparently he's never going to be. Everytime he hears something on the news, everytime he hears sirens, his chest aches and he just knows that one of those times its going to be his dad in the middle of a robbery or a gunfight. No one's lucky forever. Now, Dean's going to do the same thing to him. The room starts to spin a little and Sam braces his hand against the wall as they talk.
“Dean,” John grins, throwing an arm around his shoulder. Sam's always hated the way he does that, like they're more like buddies than father and son. Sometimes he thinks John doesn't know the difference. “You're a Winchester, son. Its in your blood. My dad, my dad's dad. All of us, Dean. Its your turn.”
Dean's eyes flick over to Sam's, sees them filled with hurt and worry, about to brim over with tears, then up at his father, so full of pride he looks like he'll burst any second.
“What do you say, son? Should I give Bryant a call?”
Dean's eyes flicker back to Sam. He knows how Sam feels about John's line of work, how much he worries, how he prays every night that John will make it home safe and alive, but Dean also knows that his dad is right. He can't work at the garage for the rest of his life and Sam's already planning to go off to college and leave them. Then he wouldn't even have a reason to hang around the house. “Yeah, Dad.” His mouth speaks before his brain is even finished processing the information. “Make the call.”
The next thing Dean hears is the front door slamming and just like that, Sam's gone.
Oh, boys. Just as broken as ever, so dependent on each other and their father and not ever quite getting what they need...or being brave enough or knowing to say they want it, to take it.
Well, until Sam, “You don't understand,” Sam sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, and looks up at Dean. “You. I can't. I don't have anybody else.” His eyes close, face falling forward until his forehead is pressed against Dean's and he can feel Dean's breath on his lips when he exhales through his nose. He holds onto Dean as tight as he can, like he thinks it might change something. He wants to stay like this, just like this, wrapped up inside the one person he thinks might actually love him, forever.
Okay, done quoting and worshipping and hurting for these boys now, k? Beautiful, hun ;)