SN drabbles - PG, gen
Jul. 20th, 2008 06:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfTitle: calling your name, calling you mine
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Anne Sexton.
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 210
Point of view: third
Dedication: for tru_faith_lost, a bit late for her birthday.
Dean’s looking out the window again. Sam wonders if he remembers at all.
His tail lashes. His ears swivel around. He arches his spine, head tilted back in a yawn that reveals his needle-sharp canines. His paw touches the pane, following a bird’s flight across the parking lot.
Sam thinks he was Dean, back at the beginning, in those first few days after the transformation. But now… it’s been months and months, and Sam doesn’t see his brother anymore. Not in the cat’s disdain or the way he watches Sam’s movements carefully. He’s just a cat. Not a cat-shaped Dean—but a real, true cat.
Dean’s looking out the window again, perched on a ledge that shouldn’t support a tom of his size. He yawns again, licking his paw and rubbing his ear, kneading his claws into the wood of the windowsill.
“Dean?” Sam asks for the billionth time, intently searching for any hint of his big brother. “C’mon, man, please, give me something. Anything.”
Nothing. The cat ignores him completely, watching pigeons, and Sam wants to curl up into a sobbing ball. Wants his big brother to make everything better, so much it hurts.
The large caramel-cream cat who is not his brother looks out the window, tail lashing.
Title: and comes the call of the ocean
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.
Warnings: future!fic
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 690
Point of view: third
Dedication: smilla02, late for her birthday
Lilith lays spread out on the ground before Sam, in her true form, writhing and begging for mercy. His rage flays her, dark demonblood spilling out onto Hell’s acrid dirt, and Sam does not stop.
“My brother,” he says. “Give him to me.”
“He’s not here!” Lilith keens, voice almost lost in a scream. “He hasn’t been here since the beginning!”
“Then where,” Sam hisses, bending down to grip what passes for her neck, “is he?”
“I don’t know!” She whimpers as his grip tightens. “We had him for one day, and then he vanished.”
Sam pauses, studying her with a careful eye. She believes her words to be true. Which means she lost his brother.
She lost his brother.
Lilith burns to ashes and then Sam’s hatred turns to the remnants of Hell.
Sam wanders. He ignores the demons following him, sidesteps the hunters who hunt him, and doesn’t speak. He destroys anything that gets in his way. He doesn’t track time as it flows, and he doesn’t age. Eventually, the demons and hunters both leave him be, when they realize he isn’t doing anything but traveling the country, going from one border to the next.
On the thirtieth anniversary of Dean’s disappearance, Sam stops by Monterey Bay in California. Time seems to have stopped here, just people going about their lives.
Sam watches the water, stretching to the horizon, meeting the sky. He watches the otters and seals and sea lions, thinks about how much Dean would have loved it here. He can imagine Dean’s voice, sounding like a little boy, in love with the place.
He can imagine so well, and it hurts. He almost hears Dean on the cold Pacific wind.
Every day, Sam goes back to the same spot on the coast. He watches the gulls and pelicans, watches the cormorants, the seals and sea lions and otters. Twice a week, he takes an ocean tour and goes out, closes his eyes on the front of the ship, feels the salt air on his face, the wind lashing him.
Sometimes, he sees whales, humpback and blue, and he never quits feeling awe.
A year passes. Two. Sam’s as home as he’s been since the hound tore Dean apart. There are people he sees every day, faces and names he knows.
On the thirty-third anniversary of Dean’s disappearance, Sam chooses a spot on the coast, a hard-to-reach beach that no one ever goes to, and strips to his bare skin. Then he steps into the water and starts swimming.
Sam hasn’t felt anything but a deep, numbed cold since Dean’s disappearance, even in Hell. The water doesn’t even bother him.
He swims out past land’s furthest reach, untiring, unceasing. He swims for a day and a night without rest. A pod of dolphins keeps pace with him part of the way, and he nearly laughs at their playfulness. But he hasn’t laughed since Dean wasn’t there to share the joke anymore, and finally the dolphins move on.
Sam floats on his back, watching the sky. With his ears underwater, he’s in a quiet bubble of silence. Then, he hears music, deep thrumming, reverberating through his body. It’s beautiful. It’s holy.
It makes him think of Dean.
For seven sunrises and seven sunsets, Sam floats in the Pacific. He listens to the music, and finally realizes what it is as a behemoth surfaces besides him, studies him with one humongous eye.
Whalesong. A humpback whale, the largest living thing Sam’s ever seen so close. It floats next to him for a while, just watching him like he watches the sky.
“Hello,” Sam says, his first word in a long time.
The whale hums and sinks back under.
Sam’s not hungry or thirsty or tired. He doesn’t feel the cold of the water or the heat of the sun. He’s just there, staring at the sky, breathing. Listening to whalesong and missing Dean.
The whale comes back, barely nudges him. Makes some noise Sam doesn’t have the words to describe.
He smiles, reaches out to touch the whale. It hums again, and the music sounds like Sammy.
Title: mind and heart must grow to touch
Fandom: “Supernatural”
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Denise Levertov.
Warnings: pre-series
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 670
Point of view: second
Notes: for eloise_bright, late for her birthday.
Dad and Sammy are asleep, and you know they’ll both want milk in the morning. Dad was too tired when you told him, and fell asleep before he could go get it, and Sammy just crawled up onto his chest and went to sleep, too. But that’s alright, because you’re a big boy now, and you can take care of your family.
It’s snowing, but not that hard, and you know right where the store is. You grab a handful of dollars from Dad’s emergency stash, and your thickest coat. You know you have to hurry, because Dad’ll be mad you left. But being able to make them both a bowl of cereal with real, actual, cold milk will be worth it. So worth it.
The store is just down the block. It’ll only take a few minutes, and you’ll have milk—maybe even marshmallows, for hot chocolate! Dad’d said he wanted some, and he’ll be so happy if you make it for him. You’ll prove you’re a big boy, able to take care of Sammy and Dad both.
You shiver in your coat, rubbing your hands together. The store is only around the corner. But the wind is blowing hard, and the snow keeps coming down more and more, and you can’t remember if you’re supposed to turn at the first stop sign or second, and it’s really really cold now.
You know you should get back inside. Back to the house right now, burrow beneath the blanket with Dad and Sammy. But you can’t see in the snow, don’t know which way to go, and—
Dean.
And it’s so cold. You’ve never ever been this cold in your whole life, and Dad will be so mad if you turn into an icicle, and who’ll take care of Sammy when Dad’s too tired, and—
Baby boy, shh.
You stop on the sidewalk, shivering, teeth chattering, because that sounded like Mommy. But it can’t be Mommy, because she’s gone, to Heaven and the angels.
Listen to me, Dean. Everything will be just fine.
“’s’cold, Mommy,” you try to say, but the words catch in your throat when a particularly harsh gust blows through you, into you, and you want to be home right now, with Dad and Sammy, milk be damned.
Listen to me, love. Turn around and walk in a straight line.
It’s Mommy. It’s really really her, so you do as she says. You walk and you walk, even though you can’t see beyond your nose, even though everything is white and bright and so so cold.
Now, left, Dean. Straight on.
You turn and stumble and force yourself back up, because you’re a big boy and Mommy is counting on you. You have to get home, to Dad and Sammy, because it’s your job to take care of them now.
You trudge, coat wrapped tight around you, snow sticking to your hair and eyelashes, wishing you’d never left the house.
Just a bit more, Dean, love. You can do it—I know you can.
You sob, tears in your eyes from the cold. Mommy says you can, knows you can, and Sammy’s at the other end, Sammy and Daddy, and warmth—
There.
You trip, hands sliding through the snow to hit wood. A stair… the house’s front stairs! They lead to the porch, where there’s the door—
Well done, Dean. I am so proud of you, my darling.
You crawl up the stairs and shove your way to the door, through the snow, and it’s warm, so so warm—
“Daddy!” you sob once inside, forcing the door closed behind you. “Daddy!”
He wakes with a start, jackknifing up on the couch, catching Sammy as he slips off.
“Dean?”
You run to him, shedding the coat and sodden shirt, shivering so hard you can’t speak. Daddy gently sets Sammy aside, who’s barely stirring, and scoops you up, cradling you as you curl into his chest.
“I got you, baby boy,” Daddy softly rumbles, one hand carding your hair. “I got you.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-20 11:46 pm (UTC)calling your name, calling you mine
The cat ignores him completely, watching pigeons, and Sam wants to curl up into a sobbing ball. Wants his big brother to make everything better, so much it hurts.
*hugs poor Sam*
Intriguing drabble, with Dean not at all himself but there nonetheless. Such a bittersweet thing for Sam.
and comes the call of the ocean
I like how this moves from Sam’s rage to Sam’s content as he finds something (someone? *g*) he needs so very much in the ocean.
Favorite lines:
He almost hears Dean on the cold Pacific wind.
Nicely phrased.
Sam floats on his back, watching the sky. With his ears underwater, he’s in a quiet bubble of silence. Then, he hears music, deep thrumming, reverberating through his body. It’s beautiful. It’s holy.
It makes him think of Dean.
Great imagery.
He smiles, reaches out to touch the whale. It hums again, and the music sounds like Sammy.
Aww. :)
mind and heart must grow to touch
Nicely done. I really like your wee!Dean voice, and the way Mary’s able to help Dean.
Favorite lines:
Dad’ll be mad you left. But being able to make them both a bowl of cereal with real, actual, cold milk will be worth it.
Such a good son and brother. *squishes him*
You turn and stumble and force yourself back up, because you’re a big boy and Mommy is counting on you. You have to get home, to Dad and Sammy, because it’s your job to take care of them now.
Oh, Dean.
You trudge, coat wrapped tight around you, snow sticking to your hair and eyelashes,
Good details.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 12:14 am (UTC)*smishes you*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:05 am (UTC)Thank you for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:07 am (UTC)*is happily smished*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:09 am (UTC)I got a sense of that, though. :)
Btw, it's good to see you back at LJ. It's been awhile since you posted. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:11 am (UTC)Got lots of fic to make up for it, though.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:16 am (UTC)Thank you for reading!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:19 am (UTC)Yikes on the unscheduled dismounts. I hope you're all healed up. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 02:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 03:44 am (UTC)I think that in the end the view of Sam in the ocean didn't need any more. It would have been very difficult to do the reveal of Dean in another way that wasn't way too heavy-handed. I thought the last sentence was just perfect. And wow, in the last one... poor Wee!Dean, but I'm so glad John was with it enough to just be there for him.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 05:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 05:58 am (UTC)Btw, I missed seeing you around!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 06:50 am (UTC)Missed you!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-21 06:52 am (UTC)I've enjoyed a lot of your other fic, by the way, but I didn't have an LJ account, so I never commented. I especially like your episode drabbles, and I hope to see some more once the fourth season begins. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-22 02:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-22 02:09 am (UTC)*twirls you*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-22 02:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-30 10:57 pm (UTC);)
But I adored it, the imagery is stunning, I could smell the sea and the last line was gorgeous.
I loved the others too, the firs so sad and hearbreaking and the last sweet and just *sobs*.
*loves*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-31 12:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-02 10:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-03 03:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-14 12:51 pm (UTC)This one's easy to see; the cat and the window, the bird and Sam... Dean that was still there a while back, now completely a cat.
A lovely take on the idea of how Sam might lose Dean. A different take, too, which makes it even better.
"and comes the call of the ocean"
I love the imagery in this, the pace and the rhythm, Sam's despair and calm. The awe he feels, seeing the whales. The song reminding him of Dean.
The world somewhere far, far away, no longer his to worry or care about.
"mind and heart must grow to touch"
Weechester-stories have begun to intrigue me. If more of them would be like this, sweet without being saccharine, real without being depressing, they'd be my drug of choice.
Dean's voice is wonderful, the visual of Sam falling asleep over John so very easy to imagine, and Mary guiding her firstborn back to the safety just....right.
Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-14 02:17 pm (UTC)Thank you so much!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-16 12:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-16 01:45 am (UTC)