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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 |
Re: thank YOU ;)
But OMG I liiike your theory, you degenerate assbutt! Especially when Dean finds out and the whiskey starts to blur the edges. "I'm gonna show you some things, Sammy," he slurs. "I'm Ben," the kid protests but he takes the gun anyway.
Re: thank YOU ;)
Ben's mouth is pressed in a sour line as he lets Dean correct his stance; there's no flutter of pride in his belly when, at the end of the day, Dean places a heavy hand on his shoulder and says, "Your left eye, use your left eye."
Ben doesn't tell Mom. It's their little secret.
One Sunday morning he wakes up to find Dean sitting on the floor, face obscured by a map that was folded up six times over and tucked in his bookbag the night before.
Dean wears his leather jacket to dinner these days.
ilu guys
Dean asks, "Hey, buddy, do they teach you Latin in school?"
Re: ilu guys
Ben doesn't understand, but he's proud of the way he doesn't so much as whimper when the dental floss snaps and he bleeds onto his Batman duvet.
Dean shows him how to get stains like that out, and who'd have thought laundry could be cool?
Re: ilu guys
NOW he thinks of it, huh? :hides the Braedens away forever:
Re: ilu guys
Oh, god yes, protect them from this creepy wrongness.
In a happier scenario, I want Lisa to pull away the first time Dean leans in for more than a hug. "I'm seeing someone," she admits, watches the shadows in his eyes warp and devour. "It's complicated, she's got a kid too, and..." Dean isn't really listening to her, of course.
Later that night Amelia calls, and she's crying. "It's okay," Lisa whispers. Dean is asleep on the couch, she doesn't want to wake him. "Baby, it's okay. I'll take Ben and Claire to the movies tomorrow, you can have a proper talk to him, tell him you've moved on."
A year later and Dean offers Jimmy a lift to the ceremony in Massachusetts. "Driver picks the music," he says, even though they end up doing the whole trip in almost complete silence.
AND THEN WHEN BEN AND CLAIRE GROW UP THEY HUNT THINGS AND SAVE PEOPLE TOGETHER.
Re: ilu guys
Re: ilu guys
AND FFF HOW DID IT GET TO BE 3AM? OKAY MAYBE I SPOKE TOO SOON. Y'ALL ARE BAD FOR ME.
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A year later and Dean offers Jimmy a lift to the ceremony in Massachusetts. "Driver picks the music," he says, even though they end up doing the whole trip in almost complete silence.
OMG. <3 <3 <3 waaaaaannnnnt
AND THEN WHEN BEN AND CLAIRE GROW UP THEY HUNT THINGS AND SAVE PEOPLE TOGETHER.
AND JESSE JOINS THEM, BACK FROM MARS OR WHEREVER THE HELL HE WENT.
\o/
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ALSO I'M GOING TO SLEEP NOW BEFORE MY LATENT PSYCHIC ABILITIES FORCE GOVERNMENT AGENTS TO SEEK ME OUT AND DESTROY ME
TEN YEARS LATER (which is totally enough time to develop interplanetary cellphone reception)
They're miles away from anywhere and their car has broken down.
A text from her mother: did u check d engine?
Claire doesn't even dignify that with a response.
Her phone beeps with another text, and she hears Ben's phone inside beep too. A text from Jesse: stop, im busy
"Goddammit," says Ben. "He's always fucking busy."
"If you had just taken the time to check the rattling--" Claire says as she composes another text.
"The cops were after us, Claire, whaddya want me to do?" Ben sighs dramatically. "'Nother chump's gonna die by werewolf if we don't--"
"I am not your fucking Triple A," Jesse says, suddenly on the side of the road.
Ben says, "Well, hell. Check out the cavalry."
"Where were you?" Claire asks.
"Mars," Jesse answers, dusting off his clothes, and Claire isn't sure that he's joking. "Now what seems to be the problem?"
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LOL D/C THE NEXT GENERATION. Like those stories were the children of long-alienated and separated people who were once maybe in love fall in love, and the parents are wistfully sighing over their heads while pretending like they don't give a shit.
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Re: ilu guys
Dean comes back trailing a stutter of a knock, too loud at one in the morning. Mom's one side of the locked door, baseball bat in hand, Ben on the other. "Lisa?" calls Dean, voice a muffled warble, embarrassing in the silence. "Lisa. Hey. Hey it's me."
Dean chokes on a mouthful of holy water the second he steps over the threshold. "Christo," says Ben.
Dean's eyes are a wet green, and now they turn soft in a crinkle he hasn't seen in two years. It makes Ben's chest ache. And it's just wrong, wrong, wrong.
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"Ben," he says.
So Mom looks up. "Ben, what did I say?"
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He's never been outside of Indiana. He found the map tucked under his homework, one evening, crumpled and smudged, red circles all over. He stared at it for a few moments but couldn't see any pattern.
Ben looks down at Dean and says, "You are not my father."
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Dean's gone more often, for longer periods of time. "Hunting," he replies, when they ask him.
"What are you hunting?" Ben asks. "Monsters? Like, werewolves? Vampires?"
"No," Dean says, and Mom just presses her mouth in a thin line.
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Mom barely touches Dean anymore, which Ben is totally happy with. It still dredges something ugly up in his gut when Mom leans over his body when he's sitting out on the porch, when she reaches out to brush her fingers over his left shoulder. Dean reacts almost explosively, throwing her arm off hard enough to unbalance her. Ben's out of his chair just in time to see Mom right herself and take two steps back. Dean is on his feet and walking backwards, one hand clutched over his shoulder.
An hour later Dean is packing up.