Supernatural Fanfic: My Father's Eyes
Title: My Father’s Eyes
Author: Jay (lotsayaoi)
Rating: PG (for mild potty mouth)
Words: 291 (but it felt so big in my head! T_T)
Genre: “gen,” au
Spoilers: none, au
Warnings: none, really, but if you already think that way…lol
Disclaimer: does anyone REALLY think there’s a chance I own these boys??
Summary: Dean is curious about a brother he doesn’t have.
Author’s Notes: This may be kind of accidentally related to the Sam and Dean in my and corri_kun’s Collide ‘verse, but it shouldn’t be taken as a part of the story at all, just me dabbling and being a complete nerd. Some of the inspiration for the story is provided at the end to give some insight to my retardery.
:::
Dean had always loved his dad, but he’d also always known, somehow, that there was someone else out there who he’d love more. His friends called him a romantic, a chick, looking for his “one true love,” but that was bullshit-this feeling had nothing to do with romantic love at all.
Sure, he believed that, maybe, there was someone who he would meet and settle down with, maybe start a family or whatever; but this was more…fraternal, he supposed was the word. Familial. It was like he knew he had a brother - well, maybe a sister, but somehow he doubted it - somewhere to be found, someone he could meet up with someday and learn about and know and love. Like he loved his dad, only completely different.
Sometimes (not that he would ever admit it to anyone) Dean would catch a glimpse of someone on TV and think, he has Dad’s eyes, or he’s got Mom’s jawline, and he’d wonder if maybe he was Dean’s long-lost brother.
He’d watch a war movie and, instead of really thinking about his dad and his service in Vietnam, he’d wonder if his brother would have made a good soldier. Was he quick on his feet, quiet and powerful? Or maybe he was really smart.
Dean would catch himself at a strange angle in an unexpected mirror and wonder if he’d caught a glimpse of his brother’s cheekbone, his brother’s nose, his brother’s shoulder. He’d shave or shower and find himself mapping his own features, trying to decide how alike he and his brother might be if they met.
Would he look like me? Would he have green eyes? Would he be as tall as me?
Would he like me?
Would he love me?
:::
Inspiration Note: Apparently my grandma does this sometimes about a brother she found out she had and never met. She sees men with red hair or who play violin and thinks of him, because those people are like her own father. She started telling me this story and I just zoned and thought of Dean (as usual), and wrote this like I was on fire.