Upon A Time - SN fic - PG
May. 29th, 2006 09:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfTitle: Upon A Time
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: Not my characters. Just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for pilot and “Something Wicked”; timeline—pre-pilot
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1125
Point of View: second
You patch up wounds on bodies and souls as well you can, and you know it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. Dad sees you like a soldier instead of a son, and Sam sometimes tells you you’re more of a parent than Dad ever was.
But you can remember what life used to be like, before November and flames. You can remember Momma and Daddy, you can remember hugs and kisses and laughter and the scent of cookies baking. You can remember tossing a football and being swung around and playing with toys that weren’t weapons for killing.
You can remember. But Sam can’t. And you tell him bedtime stories about the life you know he’ll never get.
----
You drive Sam to the bus station in silence, neither strained nor comfortable. You don’t speak about all the thoughts whirling around in you, about the pain of his leaving and the fear that you won’t be able to protect him anymore. You don’t tell him Mom would be proud or that Dad is, too, even if he never says the words. You don’t tell him you’re proud and that you wish you were able to leave, sometimes, wish you could stretch towards your dreams with such a single-minded determination. You don’t tell him he can always call you, for anything, and that he only needs to ask for you and you’ll stop at nothing to get to him.
You don’t say how much you love him, how he’s the best part of your life and always has been.
He doesn’t say he’s sorry for hurting you. He doesn’t say his only regret is leaving you behind. He doesn’t say he loves you or thank you for everything you’ve done.
But you hear what he doesn’t say, and you know he didn’t hear you.
-----
No castle can have two kings and Dad is the supreme ruler. You follow his orders without question, without complaint.
You are not a son. You are a soldier. Sam could never accept that and you’re glad he escaped, because you never wanted him to.
You’ve done many things over the years to keep him happy, keep him fed, keep him innocent. Dad never asks what you did and you never plan on telling him. You hope Sam, when you meet up with him again, doesn’t ask. You bet that he won’t.
----
Sam’s happy with the blonde, happier than he ever was with you and Dad. You watch from afar for nearly two years as Sam woos Jessica, as they fall in love, as they contemplate a future together.
You wonder if Jessica ever asks about Sam’s scars and what he uses as a lie.
Of course, he has less than you, far less. Ever since Dad shoved him into your arms, he’s been yours to protect, no matter how or from what.
You never counted how many scars you have to keep him from getting them, but you bet he knows the tally.
He always was the type to hug guilt close. One of the reasons he could walk away without a look back.
-----
You never challenge Dad because you know the price paid when you do. Sam nearly died because you were bored and you’ve never forgotten that even though he doesn’t remember.
So when Dad tells you it’s time to hunt separately you’re fine with it. You’re almost proud that he finally acknowledges your experience, your readiness. Twice as much ground is covered, twice as much evil is defeated, and you have no one to watch your back, but that’s fine because you’re twice as careful.
You check on Sam less and less. You’ve checked and double-checked Stanford’s campus and put up enough protection to keep Sam safe for two hundred years.
Besides, you know he still does his own protections. Some things can be left behind, but not such a base caution.
----
Once upon a time, you know, there lived a king and a queen who had a son. He was a happy child, with light blond hair and shining hazel eyes. He was a bouncy toddler, always laughing and smiling. The sun shone on him; he had such a bright future.
The king and queen had another son, another baby; he, too, was happy, always smiling joyfully. The elder fell in love with the baby; he swore, too young to fully understand, that he would always keep his brother safe.
An evil wizard visited the castle in the middle of a November night and threatened the younger prince. The queen rushed to his defense and died to keep him safe. The king swooped in, awakened by his beloved’s scream, and the wizard was gone. Only the laughing baby remained. The king smiled down at his son and parts of him died when the queen’s blood fell on his hand.
The elder prince, summoned by his mother’s cry and the roar of flames and the king’s shouts of denial and something he’d never be able to articulate, ran out of his room and the king shoved his brother into his arms, commanding him to leave, to get the baby out of there.
----
Once upon a time, you know, there lived a roaming warrior, training his sons to follow in his footsteps. The elder loved learning how to fight, to kill evil—he remembered the night that led to this point, but the younger couldn’t, the younger hated it.
The warrior taught them both well, but the younger wanted out, a life away from blood and death and danger. So he made his plans and he told the warrior and the warrior said, “If you leave, don’t come back.”
The elder said nothing, so the younger did.
----
Once upon a time—but once upon a time is once upon a time, and you no longer live in a fairytale.
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: Not my characters. Just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for pilot and “Something Wicked”; timeline—pre-pilot
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1125
Point of View: second
You know about the saying no castle can have two kings and you know that happy endings don’t really happen in real life and you know Sammy never fell in love with the hunt like you did. You know that Dad and Sam are too much alike and you know that you’ve taken on the role Mom would have had—peacekeeper and safe haven for whichever of them needs patching up, listener and comforter.
And you know it’s not right. You know too much has been placed on your shoulders, and you were too young for such a burden when it was first given to you. You know it isn’t fair, but you also know it is what it is, and it can’t be changed.
They need you, even if they never fully realize it. But, more than that—you need them.
You patch up wounds on bodies and souls as well you can, and you know it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough. Dad sees you like a soldier instead of a son, and Sam sometimes tells you you’re more of a parent than Dad ever was.
But you can remember what life used to be like, before November and flames. You can remember Momma and Daddy, you can remember hugs and kisses and laughter and the scent of cookies baking. You can remember tossing a football and being swung around and playing with toys that weren’t weapons for killing.
You can remember. But Sam can’t. And you tell him bedtime stories about the life you know he’ll never get.
----
You drive Sam to the bus station in silence, neither strained nor comfortable. You don’t speak about all the thoughts whirling around in you, about the pain of his leaving and the fear that you won’t be able to protect him anymore. You don’t tell him Mom would be proud or that Dad is, too, even if he never says the words. You don’t tell him you’re proud and that you wish you were able to leave, sometimes, wish you could stretch towards your dreams with such a single-minded determination. You don’t tell him he can always call you, for anything, and that he only needs to ask for you and you’ll stop at nothing to get to him.
You don’t say how much you love him, how he’s the best part of your life and always has been.
He doesn’t say he’s sorry for hurting you. He doesn’t say his only regret is leaving you behind. He doesn’t say he loves you or thank you for everything you’ve done.
But you hear what he doesn’t say, and you know he didn’t hear you.
-----
No castle can have two kings and Dad is the supreme ruler. You follow his orders without question, without complaint.
You are not a son. You are a soldier. Sam could never accept that and you’re glad he escaped, because you never wanted him to.
You’ve done many things over the years to keep him happy, keep him fed, keep him innocent. Dad never asks what you did and you never plan on telling him. You hope Sam, when you meet up with him again, doesn’t ask. You bet that he won’t.
----
Sam’s happy with the blonde, happier than he ever was with you and Dad. You watch from afar for nearly two years as Sam woos Jessica, as they fall in love, as they contemplate a future together.
You wonder if Jessica ever asks about Sam’s scars and what he uses as a lie.
Of course, he has less than you, far less. Ever since Dad shoved him into your arms, he’s been yours to protect, no matter how or from what.
You never counted how many scars you have to keep him from getting them, but you bet he knows the tally.
He always was the type to hug guilt close. One of the reasons he could walk away without a look back.
-----
You never challenge Dad because you know the price paid when you do. Sam nearly died because you were bored and you’ve never forgotten that even though he doesn’t remember.
So when Dad tells you it’s time to hunt separately you’re fine with it. You’re almost proud that he finally acknowledges your experience, your readiness. Twice as much ground is covered, twice as much evil is defeated, and you have no one to watch your back, but that’s fine because you’re twice as careful.
You check on Sam less and less. You’ve checked and double-checked Stanford’s campus and put up enough protection to keep Sam safe for two hundred years.
Besides, you know he still does his own protections. Some things can be left behind, but not such a base caution.
----
Once upon a time, you know, there lived a king and a queen who had a son. He was a happy child, with light blond hair and shining hazel eyes. He was a bouncy toddler, always laughing and smiling. The sun shone on him; he had such a bright future.
The king and queen had another son, another baby; he, too, was happy, always smiling joyfully. The elder fell in love with the baby; he swore, too young to fully understand, that he would always keep his brother safe.
An evil wizard visited the castle in the middle of a November night and threatened the younger prince. The queen rushed to his defense and died to keep him safe. The king swooped in, awakened by his beloved’s scream, and the wizard was gone. Only the laughing baby remained. The king smiled down at his son and parts of him died when the queen’s blood fell on his hand.
The elder prince, summoned by his mother’s cry and the roar of flames and the king’s shouts of denial and something he’d never be able to articulate, ran out of his room and the king shoved his brother into his arms, commanding him to leave, to get the baby out of there.
----
Once upon a time, you know, there lived a roaming warrior, training his sons to follow in his footsteps. The elder loved learning how to fight, to kill evil—he remembered the night that led to this point, but the younger couldn’t, the younger hated it.
The warrior taught them both well, but the younger wanted out, a life away from blood and death and danger. So he made his plans and he told the warrior and the warrior said, “If you leave, don’t come back.”
The elder said nothing, so the younger did.
----
Once upon a time—but once upon a time is once upon a time, and you no longer live in a fairytale.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-01-09 03:56 am (UTC)Awesome icon.