Fic: Too Late
Title: Too Late
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Characters:Sam, John
Rating: G
Spoilers: none really... general premise of the show.
Pairing: none, gen
Disclaimer:Still don't own them.
Summary: Sam cannot understand why people follow his father.
AN: Remixed here: Misinherited (Every Father's Son Remix) wonderfully by the awesome slob_child for remixredux VI. Go read it... seriously.
John Winchester was the kind of man people respected, and Sam, for the life of him, could not understand why.
His father was the sort of man people called ‘sir’ because they just felt it was right. They believed what he said, not because they were gullible or because he was convincing, but because it was him saying it.
Even the people that hated him, the people he hated, even those he pissed off - and that was a hefty number - even they treated him with respect.
Sam couldn’t see how a man so flawed could inspire such blind trust and faith. He saw the extra glass of whiskey before he fell asleep at the table, he remembered every single time his father forgot to buy something for dinner, or overlooked something important. He catalogued every mistake the man had ever made and he vowed that he, at least, would not be taken in by the John Winchester charm. If the man wanted his respect - he had to earn it.
The man was not a master, he was a human, no better than anyone else and Sam tried to make them see, struggled to show his brother that the general of their three man army was no more worth following than anyone else - less in fact.
But as hard as he tried, no one noticed; they just fell into line behind the hunter, his brother the first to come running when he crooked his finger. John Winchester said ‘jump’ and the rest of the world didn’t even bother to ask ‘how high?’
No one questioned him, so Sam took it upon himself to find the answers, searching for the reason for the man’s power, but none came.
He fought against the control, struggled, because he was not going to be one of the man’s sheep, following blindly wherever he went. He refused to be that naïve, and every time he felt his resolve shifting he remembered the glimpses of weakness he had stolen over the years, watching his father’s failures in his memory, and watching in disbelief as more people succumbed to his thrall.
He wanted to yell at them that John Winchester was only a mortal man: he bled; he sinned; he failed just like everyone else. He could die.
But his warnings were ignored and he watched as they followed their false idol, knowing that he would fail them all, one by one. He could not understand.
Understanding came with age, and the final failing of the hero. He stood at the side of the grave, not looking at the flames below but at the faces they illuminated. Heads respectfully bowed at the passing of a man they would have followed into hell itself, and some of them had.
As they watched his father burn he realised that everything he had been trying to show them for all those years, every warning that had passed them by unheeded had been unnecessary.
They had already known.
They had seen his father for what he was: a human, a stubborn, single-minded, limited mortal. They had seen his failings, his problems and his vices and they had followed him in spite of… or because of them. He had not lured them in, they had chosen to fight at his side - knowing that he might be wrong, knowing he would make mistakes.
They had seen him as he was, and Sam wished he had been able to see that too.
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Characters:Sam, John
Rating: G
Spoilers: none really... general premise of the show.
Pairing: none, gen
Disclaimer:Still don't own them.
Summary: Sam cannot understand why people follow his father.
AN: Remixed here: Misinherited (Every Father's Son Remix) wonderfully by the awesome slob_child for remixredux VI. Go read it... seriously.
John Winchester was the kind of man people respected, and Sam, for the life of him, could not understand why.
His father was the sort of man people called ‘sir’ because they just felt it was right. They believed what he said, not because they were gullible or because he was convincing, but because it was him saying it.
Even the people that hated him, the people he hated, even those he pissed off - and that was a hefty number - even they treated him with respect.
Sam couldn’t see how a man so flawed could inspire such blind trust and faith. He saw the extra glass of whiskey before he fell asleep at the table, he remembered every single time his father forgot to buy something for dinner, or overlooked something important. He catalogued every mistake the man had ever made and he vowed that he, at least, would not be taken in by the John Winchester charm. If the man wanted his respect - he had to earn it.
The man was not a master, he was a human, no better than anyone else and Sam tried to make them see, struggled to show his brother that the general of their three man army was no more worth following than anyone else - less in fact.
But as hard as he tried, no one noticed; they just fell into line behind the hunter, his brother the first to come running when he crooked his finger. John Winchester said ‘jump’ and the rest of the world didn’t even bother to ask ‘how high?’
No one questioned him, so Sam took it upon himself to find the answers, searching for the reason for the man’s power, but none came.
He fought against the control, struggled, because he was not going to be one of the man’s sheep, following blindly wherever he went. He refused to be that naïve, and every time he felt his resolve shifting he remembered the glimpses of weakness he had stolen over the years, watching his father’s failures in his memory, and watching in disbelief as more people succumbed to his thrall.
He wanted to yell at them that John Winchester was only a mortal man: he bled; he sinned; he failed just like everyone else. He could die.
But his warnings were ignored and he watched as they followed their false idol, knowing that he would fail them all, one by one. He could not understand.
Understanding came with age, and the final failing of the hero. He stood at the side of the grave, not looking at the flames below but at the faces they illuminated. Heads respectfully bowed at the passing of a man they would have followed into hell itself, and some of them had.
As they watched his father burn he realised that everything he had been trying to show them for all those years, every warning that had passed them by unheeded had been unnecessary.
They had already known.
They had seen his father for what he was: a human, a stubborn, single-minded, limited mortal. They had seen his failings, his problems and his vices and they had followed him in spite of… or because of them. He had not lured them in, they had chosen to fight at his side - knowing that he might be wrong, knowing he would make mistakes.
They had seen him as he was, and Sam wished he had been able to see that too.