Re: prompt: post 9x17, impala— FILLED, stabbing imagery, Cain & Abel reference, Dean trauma
anonymous
April 24 2014, 04:39:46 UTC
Warning for brief violent imagery (stabbing), Dean struggling to deal with trauma, and a Cain and Abel reference. Set before 9x18, so no spoilers past 9x17. On a much, much lighter note, warning for hastily googled research on how to fix car paint scratches. (this is misterdeanvimes on tumblr)
He set the primer and the spray can of Tuxedo Black on Baby's hood. The bucket he filled at the spigot- the coiled up hose, even inside the protection of the Bunker's garage, was cracked from age and had pathetically gushed water everywhere when he'd tried it. So he'd dug around in the bay that held the service and repair tools and found an old galvanized bucket near the soap and stack of clean rags. He took the bucket back to the car and dropped a rag into it, and watched as the white cloth floated on top, soaking up water and turning faintly transparent before sinking to the bottom. He dribbled in a splash of soap, thinking that he should have put it in before the water so it sudsed up as the bucket filled.
He wiped at the scratches with the soapy rag, washing out every speck of dirt and loose flake of paint. He could make her as good as new: smooth, glossy, unblemished. It wouldn't even be that hard. He emptied the bucket down the floor drain and refilled it with clear water, then poured it along Baby's side until it ran down free of bubbles. He would let it air dry, to be sure there were no water droplets or fibers from a drying rag left in the scratches before he laid down the primer. He started to roll down his sleeves, ready to leave her overnight, and felt the cloth brush over the Mark. Not enough to catch on it, just enough to remind him that it was there, a raised pink welt on his skin. It would be easier if he were a car, he thought as he pulled his cuff all the way down. There'd be no pain, just a new coat of paint, and damage on the surface would stay on the surface, leaving the inside workings fine.
If he were a car he could be used for anything and it wouldn't hurt.
If he were a person, he wouldn't have to be useful.
Hot on the heels of that unbidden thought came another, sliding in like a snake or that guy's knife between Sam's vertebrae. Am I my brother's keeper?
In the silence of the garage he whispered, "No," and on his lips it sounded like a denial of the question but in his mouth it tasted like an answer, and in both places it hurt.
Re: prompt: post 9x17, impala— FILLED, stabbing imagery, Cain & Abel reference, Dean traumabiketestApril 24 2014, 10:02:14 UTC
This is such a wonderfully painful snapshot! Especially these lines killed me: "If he were a car he could be used for anything and it wouldn't hurt. If he were a person, he wouldn't have to be useful." Ouuch. Your writing style is really lovely, and of course I know from tumblr that you have a great handle on Dean's character but it comes through so well in this fic too. Thanks so much for contributing!
Re: prompt: post 9x17, impala— FILLED, stabbing imagery, Cain & Abel reference, Dean traumakallielApril 30 2014, 02:15:36 UTC
The incredible care and attention Dean puts into this task is both endearing and heartbreaking. Not that it's surprising, necessarily, because she's the Impala, after all, but because Dean needs a version of it so badly himself, either/both from himself and from elsewhere. So much in such a succinct, poignant fill. Great job!
He set the primer and the spray can of Tuxedo Black on Baby's hood. The bucket he filled at the spigot- the coiled up hose, even inside the protection of the Bunker's garage, was cracked from age and had pathetically gushed water everywhere when he'd tried it. So he'd dug around in the bay that held the service and repair tools and found an old galvanized bucket near the soap and stack of clean rags. He took the bucket back to the car and dropped a rag into it, and watched as the white cloth floated on top, soaking up water and turning faintly transparent before sinking to the bottom. He dribbled in a splash of soap, thinking that he should have put it in before the water so it sudsed up as the bucket filled.
He wiped at the scratches with the soapy rag, washing out every speck of dirt and loose flake of paint. He could make her as good as new: smooth, glossy, unblemished. It wouldn't even be that hard. He emptied the bucket down the floor drain and refilled it with clear water, then poured it along Baby's side until it ran down free of bubbles. He would let it air dry, to be sure there were no water droplets or fibers from a drying rag left in the scratches before he laid down the primer.
He started to roll down his sleeves, ready to leave her overnight, and felt the cloth brush over the Mark. Not enough to catch on it, just enough to remind him that it was there, a raised pink welt on his skin. It would be easier if he were a car, he thought as he pulled his cuff all the way down. There'd be no pain, just a new coat of paint, and damage on the surface would stay on the surface, leaving the inside workings fine.
If he were a car he could be used for anything and it wouldn't hurt.
If he were a person, he wouldn't have to be useful.
Hot on the heels of that unbidden thought came another, sliding in like a snake or that guy's knife between Sam's vertebrae. Am I my brother's keeper?
In the silence of the garage he whispered, "No," and on his lips it sounded like a denial of the question but in his mouth it tasted like an answer, and in both places it hurt.
Reply
Break my heart why don't you...
Thanks for sharing <3
Lol, I just saw that I'm already following you on tumblr, I would have asked you for your handle otherwise :)
Reply
Reply
Reply
(misterdeanvimes)
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment