Fic - SPN: Life's Little Questions; preseries
First, my sincerest apologies to everyone who has reviewed my stuff and I have not replied to/thanked them. I've been up to my ears in revision lately and, while fic writing is a lovely form of procrastination, it's pretty much an upload and run thing. Luckily my last exam is tomorrow and I am fully intending to go back and thank everyone... sorry.
Title: Life's Little Questions
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Characters: Sam, Dean, John
Rating: G - you know I'm really feeling the need to break out of my G rut and write some hard R sometime soon, but until then, here's another one
Time frame/Spoilers: preseries (probably pre-flashback in Something Wicked) No spoilers, except the show itself. (No spoilers for X-men either...)
Pairing: none, gen
Disclaimer: I wish owned them, I really do... but sadly I am distinctly lacking in that area. I do have plans though... hidden under the loose floorboard in my room. One day they will be mine
Summary: Dean asks his brother a question, from which bickering ensues.
Notes: Thanks to estel_willow for putting up with questions about X-men even when she did not understand why, and for enduring my nagging about a million and one supernatural fics recently. Also, I tried to make the fraternal bickering as realistic as I could, but I'm still iffy about it. *shrug* (Another little note -YAY! It's not angst!)
“Which X-man would you be?” Dean asked, randomly. His little brother looked up from his dog-eared, fourth-hand comic in surprise. He had thought it was going to be one of the quieter car journeys, but the distraction was not unwelcome and he pondered the question seriously. “If you could choose any of them.” His brother added, turning from the view out of the window - fields dotted with trees - to look at his brother’s face as he chose.
“I don’t know… not Rogue.”
“Well duh! She’s a girl.” Dean replied with a smirk. Sam pouted slightly, looking at his brother with reproach.
“You said I could choose any of them,” he reminded his brother and Dean blinked before shrugging diffidently.
“If you want to be a girl, I’m not gonna stop you… Samantha.”
“Dean, don’t call your brother that.” Their father ordered from the front, able to pre-empt the fight after years of experience.
“Yes sir.” There was silence for a little while as both brothers turned back to their previous pursuits and John watched the road, still keeping an ear open for sound of any trouble in the back.
“I’d be Wolverine,” Dean announced into the silence, but his brother did not look up, still mad at him, “because, you know, he’s practically invincible and he’s really cool.” There was no reply for a long moment. “Of course, Cyclops gets the girl, but he’s a prissy bitch.” Sammy giggled, forgetting that he was not listening. “Of course, there’s that whole thing with his memory, which sort of sucks…” He paused.
“His claws hurt.” Sam said, daring to give his brother some input.
“Just a little… and it’d be worth it.” Dean turned to his brother, confident that he had his full attention. “Imagine. I’d be out on a hunt and I’d just automatically heal myself. It would be so cool.
“Of course, Gambit’s got the fire-power, and the attitude… and the girl,” Dean fell silent, thinking carefully, but only for a moment before he spoke again. “Yeah, I changed my mind - totally Gambit.” He looked at Sam thoughtfully. “You could be Wolverine,” he allowed magnanimously, “then you wouldn’t get hurt.” Sam shook his head. “Yeah, you’re more of a Cyclops really.”
“I like Cyclops,” Sam protested, hearing the dismissal in Dean’s voice, his own hitting the whiny tone that only pre-pubescent boys could reach.
“You would,” Dean replied with a sniff, watching Sam’s eyes become bigger and his bottom lip begin to quake.
“Boys.” The one word from John flipped a switch in Dean and the smirk fell from his face.
“He does have a cool power, though, and like I said: he gets the girl.” His younger brother’s face transformed in the blink of an eye to a happy smile.
“I don’t really want to be Cyclops anyway,” he admitted quietly, “I’d prefer to be Angel.” He turned the comic round to show a picture of his chosen mutant.
“They guy with wings? Why?” Dean looked at his brother with disbelief. “He doesn’t do anything.”
“He flies,” Sam pointed out, his bottom lip threatening again.
“Yeah, but that’s all.” Dean said, ignoring the warning signs. “Why not Storm, or Jean? Sure, they’re girls, but their powers rock. Or even the Professor, he’s stuck in a wheel chair but mentally he kicks ass.”
“I want to be Warren.” Sam insisted stubbornly. “I’d like to fly.”
“Gambit could totally kick his butt,” Dean taunted, shifting in his seat to face his brother more completely.
“Could not…”
“Could too! He’d supercharge his wings and blow them up.”
“Would not!”
“Would too!”
“Would not!”
“Would too!”
“Enough!” John snapped from the driver’s seat, his hands clenching on the steering wheel. “Dean! Leave your brother alone! Sam, stop whining: they’re only comic book characters.” The pair glared at each other silently for a few seconds, “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir,” they chorused with childish reluctance, the words barely out of their mouths before Sam had stuck his tongue out at his brother, unseen by their father.
“If you’re not careful your face’ll stick that way,” Dean said, “then you’ll be even uglier than you are now.”
“Shut up!”
“No, you shut up!”
“You shut up!”
“Dean if you upset your brother one more time I’m going to make you sit in the front with me and navigate.” John threatened, daring a glance in the rear-view mirror at his elder son. When their eyes met Dean held his gaze for a moment before sighing and lowering his eyes in submission.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, Dean staring sullenly out of the window as Sam looked at his comic and imagined what it would be like to fly really, really high; so high that the car and his dad and his brother were a tiny black spot on a thin winding line of road. At the wheel John merely enjoyed the few minutes of peace and quiet he was allowed, but all good things had to come to an end.
“Dean?” Sam whispered, obviously trying to be quiet but failing just as obviously. “Who do you think Daddy would be?” His brother turned and grinned, the fascinating scenery forgotten once more, while in the front John drove and quietly pretended not to listen.
Title: Life's Little Questions
Author: Mariana O'Connor
Characters: Sam, Dean, John
Rating: G - you know I'm really feeling the need to break out of my G rut and write some hard R sometime soon, but until then, here's another one
Time frame/Spoilers: preseries (probably pre-flashback in Something Wicked) No spoilers, except the show itself. (No spoilers for X-men either...)
Pairing: none, gen
Disclaimer: I wish owned them, I really do... but sadly I am distinctly lacking in that area. I do have plans though... hidden under the loose floorboard in my room. One day they will be mine
Summary: Dean asks his brother a question, from which bickering ensues.
Notes: Thanks to estel_willow for putting up with questions about X-men even when she did not understand why, and for enduring my nagging about a million and one supernatural fics recently. Also, I tried to make the fraternal bickering as realistic as I could, but I'm still iffy about it. *shrug* (Another little note -YAY! It's not angst!)
“Which X-man would you be?” Dean asked, randomly. His little brother looked up from his dog-eared, fourth-hand comic in surprise. He had thought it was going to be one of the quieter car journeys, but the distraction was not unwelcome and he pondered the question seriously. “If you could choose any of them.” His brother added, turning from the view out of the window - fields dotted with trees - to look at his brother’s face as he chose.
“I don’t know… not Rogue.”
“Well duh! She’s a girl.” Dean replied with a smirk. Sam pouted slightly, looking at his brother with reproach.
“You said I could choose any of them,” he reminded his brother and Dean blinked before shrugging diffidently.
“If you want to be a girl, I’m not gonna stop you… Samantha.”
“Dean, don’t call your brother that.” Their father ordered from the front, able to pre-empt the fight after years of experience.
“Yes sir.” There was silence for a little while as both brothers turned back to their previous pursuits and John watched the road, still keeping an ear open for sound of any trouble in the back.
“I’d be Wolverine,” Dean announced into the silence, but his brother did not look up, still mad at him, “because, you know, he’s practically invincible and he’s really cool.” There was no reply for a long moment. “Of course, Cyclops gets the girl, but he’s a prissy bitch.” Sammy giggled, forgetting that he was not listening. “Of course, there’s that whole thing with his memory, which sort of sucks…” He paused.
“His claws hurt.” Sam said, daring to give his brother some input.
“Just a little… and it’d be worth it.” Dean turned to his brother, confident that he had his full attention. “Imagine. I’d be out on a hunt and I’d just automatically heal myself. It would be so cool.
“Of course, Gambit’s got the fire-power, and the attitude… and the girl,” Dean fell silent, thinking carefully, but only for a moment before he spoke again. “Yeah, I changed my mind - totally Gambit.” He looked at Sam thoughtfully. “You could be Wolverine,” he allowed magnanimously, “then you wouldn’t get hurt.” Sam shook his head. “Yeah, you’re more of a Cyclops really.”
“I like Cyclops,” Sam protested, hearing the dismissal in Dean’s voice, his own hitting the whiny tone that only pre-pubescent boys could reach.
“You would,” Dean replied with a sniff, watching Sam’s eyes become bigger and his bottom lip begin to quake.
“Boys.” The one word from John flipped a switch in Dean and the smirk fell from his face.
“He does have a cool power, though, and like I said: he gets the girl.” His younger brother’s face transformed in the blink of an eye to a happy smile.
“I don’t really want to be Cyclops anyway,” he admitted quietly, “I’d prefer to be Angel.” He turned the comic round to show a picture of his chosen mutant.
“They guy with wings? Why?” Dean looked at his brother with disbelief. “He doesn’t do anything.”
“He flies,” Sam pointed out, his bottom lip threatening again.
“Yeah, but that’s all.” Dean said, ignoring the warning signs. “Why not Storm, or Jean? Sure, they’re girls, but their powers rock. Or even the Professor, he’s stuck in a wheel chair but mentally he kicks ass.”
“I want to be Warren.” Sam insisted stubbornly. “I’d like to fly.”
“Gambit could totally kick his butt,” Dean taunted, shifting in his seat to face his brother more completely.
“Could not…”
“Could too! He’d supercharge his wings and blow them up.”
“Would not!”
“Would too!”
“Would not!”
“Would too!”
“Enough!” John snapped from the driver’s seat, his hands clenching on the steering wheel. “Dean! Leave your brother alone! Sam, stop whining: they’re only comic book characters.” The pair glared at each other silently for a few seconds, “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir,” they chorused with childish reluctance, the words barely out of their mouths before Sam had stuck his tongue out at his brother, unseen by their father.
“If you’re not careful your face’ll stick that way,” Dean said, “then you’ll be even uglier than you are now.”
“Shut up!”
“No, you shut up!”
“You shut up!”
“Dean if you upset your brother one more time I’m going to make you sit in the front with me and navigate.” John threatened, daring a glance in the rear-view mirror at his elder son. When their eyes met Dean held his gaze for a moment before sighing and lowering his eyes in submission.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, Dean staring sullenly out of the window as Sam looked at his comic and imagined what it would be like to fly really, really high; so high that the car and his dad and his brother were a tiny black spot on a thin winding line of road. At the wheel John merely enjoyed the few minutes of peace and quiet he was allowed, but all good things had to come to an end.
“Dean?” Sam whispered, obviously trying to be quiet but failing just as obviously. “Who do you think Daddy would be?” His brother turned and grinned, the fascinating scenery forgotten once more, while in the front John drove and quietly pretended not to listen.