Oh wow, I loooooved this last scene. That was beautiful. And Bobby's giggle/gag demonstration made me LOLOL. Trece, this was heartwarming and sad and so beautifully written. I'm beyond thrilled that you got it done. The history of Bobby and John is barren. Not enough people understand the characters as well as you to tell it the right way. I usually shy away from John fics because very few people in this fandom understand him. Now, I know he wasn't father of the year. I know he was neglectful and obsessed and a drunk, but there has never been a doubt in my mind that he loved those boys. Everything John ever did was out of love. Love for Mary, mostly. And definitely love for his boys. We don't have to worry about it much here in this country but when you raise your kids in a war zone, life isn't about picket fences and school dances. And that's what life was for John. All he could see was blood and pain and fire and monsters. All he could see was his Mary dying, being ripped away from him, and knowing John, everything he did after that was for revenge, yes, but also to stop anything from ever taking his boys from him too. And I firmly believe that if John hadn't raised his boys the way he did, they never would've survived any of the past 9 years. And Bobby...well, Bobby was the "mother figure" that children need. He knew they had enough training and truth from their dad to choke a horse. So he wanted to give them what John couldn't. A home, normality, pies and laughs. And he did a good job. I think SamAndDean are who and what they are because of both the parents they had. And I believe John and Bobby were best friends to each other, or at least as best friends as they could possibly be through the whiskey and death that was their lives. This story needed to be told and I wish every Supernatural fan would read this because it couldn't have been told better if Kripke himself had written it. Thank you so much for this. *hugs*
Okay, secret... the giggle/gag scene...really happened. 'Cept it wasn't thrown up Hawaiian pizza, it was my & my brother & seven dead mice in a tub of water. They'd been in there for weeks, drowned and bloated and soaking for so long that their coats were peeling away from their bloated bodies. And they smelled. Oh God, did they smell. But the tub was too big and it HAD to be emptied, so we used a milk bag jug to scoop the water & the dead mice out of the sink. We carried them, one scoop at a time out of the building, around the corner and out to the field. But the smell was SO bad that we started gagging, and it was so gross that it became funny. So there we were, working as fast as we could to get the tub emptied, gagging and giggling, with tears flowing down down our faces.
You know the saying: Write what you know. :) That's one of the reasons that writing these men is so fun to me. Because I have TONS of stories from my own family that I can use. :)
Also...Thank you, Love. Thank you so much for always being so supportive and for your famous/infamous comments. They're one of the best parts of posting.
I love this comment! Trece and I had so many lengthy conversations about John and his parenting and motivations and so on and we'd actually talked about the fact that he was raising his kids in a war zone...but a war zone that most other people never even knew existed...and so he was totally focused on survival. And they have survived (mostly...the occasional temporary death notwithstanding!) because of their Dad's training. :)
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You know the saying: Write what you know. :) That's one of the reasons that writing these men is so fun to me. Because I have TONS of stories from my own family that I can use. :)
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