Fic: Some People Pray for Miracles
Title: Some People Pray for Miracles
Characters: Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: I want a world, plain and simple.
Notes: Dean's post-apocalypse thoughts.
In honor of 100 episodes of Supernatural. I had to do something. It's pretty incredible.
Crossposted to supernaturalfic, spn_gen, and sn_fic.
00000
I want a world, plain and simple. I want it still turning when we’re gone, the Impala’s tire marks crisscrossing every back road and highway in this country. I want engine grease under my fingernails, the smell of gun oil on my shirt, a bag of rock salt in the trunk because some things in this world don’t know when they’re licked and that’s alright with me. I can fix that.
I want the smell of pine in the air, the sun warming my back, graveyard dirt crusting my shovel, a cold beer in my hand. I want the days full of everything and anywhere, all it takes is a nod and a grin and we’re off, someplace new, taking home with me wherever I go.
I want a world with Sam by my side-huge little brother, tripping over his clodhopper feet and ducking in doorways, hands jammed in his pockets like he’s always looking for something. I want him drooling on his pillow at night and sleeping late so I can hit him with a pillow to wake him up. I want him laughing hysterically with something gross and green in his teeth, only to rag on me later for not telling him. I want him to steal all the hot water in the mornings and then spend ten minutes on his stupid hair. I want to call him geekboy and be proud over all the stuff he knows. I want to watch his face get soft when he sees kids, see his eyes grow solemn when he glimpses long blond hair. I want to see the dangerous way he moves when we’re hunting something and hear the growl of his voice when he thinks he’s protecting me (it’s the other way around, little brother).
I want a world full of air and asphalt, where we can hunt the evil and not be shunned because of it. I want I’m not going anywhere and What do you say to the Grand Canyon and If I have any more pie, I’m going to puke, but it was the best, wasn’t it. I want to be gripped as hard as I’m gripping and know that we’re doing it-whatever it is-because we want to, not because we have to. Because we choose to.
Dean, would you just get in already? If you don’t hurry up, I’m driving, and you’re not going to like the way I take the turns with ice cream in one hand and the lives of you and your baby in the other. Gosh, man, I’m kidding, the Impala’s fine! And-hey, that’s my ice cream, Dean! Jerk.
Thanks, God. Amen.
Characters: Dean
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: I want a world, plain and simple.
Notes: Dean's post-apocalypse thoughts.
In honor of 100 episodes of Supernatural. I had to do something. It's pretty incredible.
Crossposted to supernaturalfic, spn_gen, and sn_fic.
00000
I want a world, plain and simple. I want it still turning when we’re gone, the Impala’s tire marks crisscrossing every back road and highway in this country. I want engine grease under my fingernails, the smell of gun oil on my shirt, a bag of rock salt in the trunk because some things in this world don’t know when they’re licked and that’s alright with me. I can fix that.
I want the smell of pine in the air, the sun warming my back, graveyard dirt crusting my shovel, a cold beer in my hand. I want the days full of everything and anywhere, all it takes is a nod and a grin and we’re off, someplace new, taking home with me wherever I go.
I want a world with Sam by my side-huge little brother, tripping over his clodhopper feet and ducking in doorways, hands jammed in his pockets like he’s always looking for something. I want him drooling on his pillow at night and sleeping late so I can hit him with a pillow to wake him up. I want him laughing hysterically with something gross and green in his teeth, only to rag on me later for not telling him. I want him to steal all the hot water in the mornings and then spend ten minutes on his stupid hair. I want to call him geekboy and be proud over all the stuff he knows. I want to watch his face get soft when he sees kids, see his eyes grow solemn when he glimpses long blond hair. I want to see the dangerous way he moves when we’re hunting something and hear the growl of his voice when he thinks he’s protecting me (it’s the other way around, little brother).
I want a world full of air and asphalt, where we can hunt the evil and not be shunned because of it. I want I’m not going anywhere and What do you say to the Grand Canyon and If I have any more pie, I’m going to puke, but it was the best, wasn’t it. I want to be gripped as hard as I’m gripping and know that we’re doing it-whatever it is-because we want to, not because we have to. Because we choose to.
Dean, would you just get in already? If you don’t hurry up, I’m driving, and you’re not going to like the way I take the turns with ice cream in one hand and the lives of you and your baby in the other. Gosh, man, I’m kidding, the Impala’s fine! And-hey, that’s my ice cream, Dean! Jerk.
Thanks, God. Amen.