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second person pov strikes back
I sat down to write my finale reaction post, then wrote episode tags instead. Oh well.
459 words for Lisa:
lisa
Dean Winchester shoehorning himself into your life, Attempt #3: showing up at your door talking like a condemned man, warning you about a condemned world. He's called you a couple of times since then, strange phone calls incoherent with things unsaid. He just keeps telling you that there's bad shit going down, and you and Ben need to stay safe. Just tell me what's going on, but you're relieved when he refuses you a straight answer. He says just be careful. These phone calls set you on edge, and you're not sure whether you're more worried about him or yourself.
What if he shows up on your doorstep one night and axes you and Ben in your sleep?
Ha, oh god, don't even think that. Dean's a little crazy, but he's a good man.
What if he shows up and--
What. What if what? You don't even know. What if he shows up and does something as bad as how he sounds on the phone? Meandering despair cut through with angry conviction: what if he does something like that?
You don't have the heart to shut him out, this man who's on the brink, this man who saved your son, this one night stand. Ah fuck, Lise, I shouldn't have called, all slurry and blurred, and you say Don't worry about it. You think This guy is gonna get himself killed as your gut goes cold. Dean's world is crumbling, and for some reason you're the one he calls.
He calls you one more time this afternoon and tells you he's gonna be passing through town. It's over, it's all over, he says, so you ask what's over, and he says Everything.
He shows up on your doorstep looking like shit and sounding like hell, Attempt #4, and gives you one of those hugs that scrabbles for purchase at every point of contact. You don't ask what happened. You don't ask where Sam is. You tell him it's never too late for that beer, and then Ben comes running in from the living room and goes Dean! and Dean's face lights up. Hey buddy.
You microwave leftovers as the men discuss new Transformers versus old-school Transformers, and you sit at the kitchen table, letting Ben captain the conversation as every smile of Dean's, every joke, every resurfacing of his old wisecracking tone loosens the knots in your stomach. By the end of the meal, your smile is genuine. After Ben goes to bed, you massage Dean's shoulders, but when he turns his head to kiss your wrist, you stop. Look at the time.
He sleeps on your couch that night. It's the least you can do. Maybe it's the most.
270 words for Sam:
sam
You drive around and around the lower forty-eight, and you think maybe you should check out Hawai'i one of these days. Why not? What's stopping you? You are tethered to nothing. Not this boosted car, not the false identities you carry around in your wallet. You can go to fucking India, or Johannesburg, or the Pyrenees. Nothing is holding you down.
You start your own journal, fill it with monsters. Aswangs in Walpole and chupacabras outside of Reno: you think maybe this is how Dean felt when you were in Stanford. This is what he was doing. Blood and ichor on his hands, staining his clothes, motel rooms with just one bed. An empty passenger seat. This was his everyday, and this is your penance. You drive across America haunting your brother's old life, and it's only fitting.
You're okay. You can do this. You can do this, so you're okay.
There's a payphone in a bar outside of Milwaukee, and you think maybe you'll call him. You won't say anything. You'll just be a creep and hear him say hello. Maybe you can get away with that. Bartender asks if you want another one, sugar, and you wonder how many times Dean wanted to call you but then changed his mind.
Bartender says honey, you want another one?
You would, but you should save the money for food. You think Dean would probably get the booze instead of food. Fucking Dean. What an idiot. You down the rest of your beer, and the lamp above you flickers and flares.
+
That's all for now. FOR NOW.
The following showed up on Fuck Yeah Merlin and now my heart is equal parts LOL and :(
In other news of beautiful symmetry,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
castielfest has 42 members and 24 sign-ups thus far omg yay \o/
[originally posted at http://whynot.dreamwidth.org/21848.html |
comments]
459 words for Lisa:
lisa
Dean Winchester shoehorning himself into your life, Attempt #3: showing up at your door talking like a condemned man, warning you about a condemned world. He's called you a couple of times since then, strange phone calls incoherent with things unsaid. He just keeps telling you that there's bad shit going down, and you and Ben need to stay safe. Just tell me what's going on, but you're relieved when he refuses you a straight answer. He says just be careful. These phone calls set you on edge, and you're not sure whether you're more worried about him or yourself.
What if he shows up on your doorstep one night and axes you and Ben in your sleep?
Ha, oh god, don't even think that. Dean's a little crazy, but he's a good man.
What if he shows up and--
What. What if what? You don't even know. What if he shows up and does something as bad as how he sounds on the phone? Meandering despair cut through with angry conviction: what if he does something like that?
You don't have the heart to shut him out, this man who's on the brink, this man who saved your son, this one night stand. Ah fuck, Lise, I shouldn't have called, all slurry and blurred, and you say Don't worry about it. You think This guy is gonna get himself killed as your gut goes cold. Dean's world is crumbling, and for some reason you're the one he calls.
He calls you one more time this afternoon and tells you he's gonna be passing through town. It's over, it's all over, he says, so you ask what's over, and he says Everything.
He shows up on your doorstep looking like shit and sounding like hell, Attempt #4, and gives you one of those hugs that scrabbles for purchase at every point of contact. You don't ask what happened. You don't ask where Sam is. You tell him it's never too late for that beer, and then Ben comes running in from the living room and goes Dean! and Dean's face lights up. Hey buddy.
You microwave leftovers as the men discuss new Transformers versus old-school Transformers, and you sit at the kitchen table, letting Ben captain the conversation as every smile of Dean's, every joke, every resurfacing of his old wisecracking tone loosens the knots in your stomach. By the end of the meal, your smile is genuine. After Ben goes to bed, you massage Dean's shoulders, but when he turns his head to kiss your wrist, you stop. Look at the time.
He sleeps on your couch that night. It's the least you can do. Maybe it's the most.
270 words for Sam:
sam
You drive around and around the lower forty-eight, and you think maybe you should check out Hawai'i one of these days. Why not? What's stopping you? You are tethered to nothing. Not this boosted car, not the false identities you carry around in your wallet. You can go to fucking India, or Johannesburg, or the Pyrenees. Nothing is holding you down.
You start your own journal, fill it with monsters. Aswangs in Walpole and chupacabras outside of Reno: you think maybe this is how Dean felt when you were in Stanford. This is what he was doing. Blood and ichor on his hands, staining his clothes, motel rooms with just one bed. An empty passenger seat. This was his everyday, and this is your penance. You drive across America haunting your brother's old life, and it's only fitting.
You're okay. You can do this. You can do this, so you're okay.
There's a payphone in a bar outside of Milwaukee, and you think maybe you'll call him. You won't say anything. You'll just be a creep and hear him say hello. Maybe you can get away with that. Bartender asks if you want another one, sugar, and you wonder how many times Dean wanted to call you but then changed his mind.
Bartender says honey, you want another one?
You would, but you should save the money for food. You think Dean would probably get the booze instead of food. Fucking Dean. What an idiot. You down the rest of your beer, and the lamp above you flickers and flares.
+
That's all for now. FOR NOW.
The following showed up on Fuck Yeah Merlin and now my heart is equal parts LOL and :(
In other news of beautiful symmetry,
castielfest has 42 members and 24 sign-ups thus far omg yay \o/[originally posted at http://whynot.dreamwidth.org/21848.html |
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