In Feeling (2/30, G, Sam, Dean, John)
Title: In Feeling
Author: acerbus_instar
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Prompt: #02: Speak
Word Count: 300
Summary: For spn_30snapshots table, Liars and Thieves, part of a prequel series to my AU fic, Swift Hounds of Lússa. This installment: 'In feeling' - empathy. When Sammy was young, Dean could always calm him down.
1983
When Sammy was young, Dean could always calm him down. Infant young, that is - the weeks at Uncle Mike’s, young. Just a touch or a look and the baby would go into little fits of ecstasy, giggling and grinning and flailing chubby legs. But it never failed, never failed. Just at the edge of that abyss, John would be. Teetering, wrapped up between some oblivious sleep and the next drink, watching the faded loop of reality through some blurred and jaded eye. And then the crying would start. And he’d ignore it, because Dean or Kate or somebody else could handle that, could smooth everything back to silence while he… just… waited.
But it wouldn’t stop, and he’d struggle to his feet, and he’d lean on the doorway with his head throbbing in time to the wails and Dean would be standing with the too-big too-heavy baby wrapped up in his arms, one hand splayed wide on Sammy’s back, looking like a criminal caught in the act, and he’d break just then, snap and unwind around these too-loud and too-quiet pieces of his family, Mary’s family.
Never failed.
Never did.
He’d pick up Sammy and pick up Dean. They’d curl up in the armchair nearby and almost immediately Sammy’d be hiccupping his way back to sleep, and Dean would have his fingers wrapped up in John’s shirt, and yeah - he’d sleep too, earn himself a nice neck crick for the effort, and he’d never feel full but he’d feel… he’d feel sane.
And the next time that gap started widening, there it’d be again. Sam, not wanting anything that they could figure out - anything besides them, John, Dean, together. And John had always thought it uncanny. Because any other time, Dean could always calm Sammy down. Any other time.
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Author: acerbus_instar
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Prompt: #02: Speak
Word Count: 300
Summary: For spn_30snapshots table, Liars and Thieves, part of a prequel series to my AU fic, Swift Hounds of Lússa. This installment: 'In feeling' - empathy. When Sammy was young, Dean could always calm him down.
1983
When Sammy was young, Dean could always calm him down. Infant young, that is - the weeks at Uncle Mike’s, young. Just a touch or a look and the baby would go into little fits of ecstasy, giggling and grinning and flailing chubby legs. But it never failed, never failed. Just at the edge of that abyss, John would be. Teetering, wrapped up between some oblivious sleep and the next drink, watching the faded loop of reality through some blurred and jaded eye. And then the crying would start. And he’d ignore it, because Dean or Kate or somebody else could handle that, could smooth everything back to silence while he… just… waited.
But it wouldn’t stop, and he’d struggle to his feet, and he’d lean on the doorway with his head throbbing in time to the wails and Dean would be standing with the too-big too-heavy baby wrapped up in his arms, one hand splayed wide on Sammy’s back, looking like a criminal caught in the act, and he’d break just then, snap and unwind around these too-loud and too-quiet pieces of his family, Mary’s family.
Never failed.
Never did.
He’d pick up Sammy and pick up Dean. They’d curl up in the armchair nearby and almost immediately Sammy’d be hiccupping his way back to sleep, and Dean would have his fingers wrapped up in John’s shirt, and yeah - he’d sleep too, earn himself a nice neck crick for the effort, and he’d never feel full but he’d feel… he’d feel sane.
And the next time that gap started widening, there it’d be again. Sam, not wanting anything that they could figure out - anything besides them, John, Dean, together. And John had always thought it uncanny. Because any other time, Dean could always calm Sammy down. Any other time.
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