Thanks, 2011! I won't miss you!
I spent the first work day morning of 2011 stalled out on the side of the highway waiting for a tow truck. Anyone want three guesses at how I spent the last work day morning of 2011?
Yep.
And mind you, these are different cars. *throws up hands*
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I love the year end fic meme going around. I'll do it either tonight or tomorrow, but I want to post one last thing first (nothing super exciting, a deancaskink fill I'd forgotten to post up properly).:)
***
"Great Expectations" by Gaslight Anthem came on yesterday during the drive home and that song. It's such a John Winchester song, John alone in the car talking to Mary (Mary, this station is playing every sad song/I remember like we were alive), John thinking over the wreckage of his empty life after Sam runs off to Stamford. (everybody leaves and I'd expect as much from you)
John talking to Mary and maybe to Ellen too, thinking back to really knowing jack about hunting but he's lucky enough to fall in with Bill and Ellen Harvelle and they don't laugh too hard at him when he screws up, back to that little window of time when he thought maybe he could be happy again. (And I learned about the blues from this kitten I knew/Her hair was raven and her heart was like a tomb/My heart's like a wound.) But then Bill dies and it's his fault, he knows that even if no one else does, then when he goes back to the Roadhouse with Bill's blood on his clothes he's got Bill's little girl looking at him with her dad's eyes and he can't tell Ellen the truth, not with the risk she might forgive him. So off he runs, back to the road and his boys and Mary's ghost sitting shotgun.
(Mary, I worried and stalled every night of my life/Better safe than making the party) And maybe there was that one other chance, the little fantasy he built with Adam and Kate, but that he sabotages right from beginning because he's not John Winchester with them. This is the life he and Mary used to talk about, drinking beers on the hood of his car, but he lives in it like a shifter and tells himself it's for their own good.
He knows the truth, though. He feels it when he's back on that open road and the song that played the night he met Mary comes on and he knows in his bones that this life is hell but it's easier than turning around and risk ever again. Besides, Mary's still his wife and there are nights he can almost get drunk enough that investigating her murder is almost like her being there again. (I never had a good time, I sat by my bedside, with papers and poetry about Estella)
Because John's back in 'Nam, and he's not winning this war either but John Winchester's been killing since he was eighteen years old. Maybe he knew something else once, but it's been a long time and a lot of road since then. (I saw tail lights last night in a dream about my old life/Everybody leaves and why, why wouldn't you?)
Yep.
And mind you, these are different cars. *throws up hands*
***
I love the year end fic meme going around. I'll do it either tonight or tomorrow, but I want to post one last thing first (nothing super exciting, a deancaskink fill I'd forgotten to post up properly).:)
***
"Great Expectations" by Gaslight Anthem came on yesterday during the drive home and that song. It's such a John Winchester song, John alone in the car talking to Mary (Mary, this station is playing every sad song/I remember like we were alive), John thinking over the wreckage of his empty life after Sam runs off to Stamford. (everybody leaves and I'd expect as much from you)
John talking to Mary and maybe to Ellen too, thinking back to really knowing jack about hunting but he's lucky enough to fall in with Bill and Ellen Harvelle and they don't laugh too hard at him when he screws up, back to that little window of time when he thought maybe he could be happy again. (And I learned about the blues from this kitten I knew/Her hair was raven and her heart was like a tomb/My heart's like a wound.) But then Bill dies and it's his fault, he knows that even if no one else does, then when he goes back to the Roadhouse with Bill's blood on his clothes he's got Bill's little girl looking at him with her dad's eyes and he can't tell Ellen the truth, not with the risk she might forgive him. So off he runs, back to the road and his boys and Mary's ghost sitting shotgun.
(Mary, I worried and stalled every night of my life/Better safe than making the party) And maybe there was that one other chance, the little fantasy he built with Adam and Kate, but that he sabotages right from beginning because he's not John Winchester with them. This is the life he and Mary used to talk about, drinking beers on the hood of his car, but he lives in it like a shifter and tells himself it's for their own good.
He knows the truth, though. He feels it when he's back on that open road and the song that played the night he met Mary comes on and he knows in his bones that this life is hell but it's easier than turning around and risk ever again. Besides, Mary's still his wife and there are nights he can almost get drunk enough that investigating her murder is almost like her being there again. (I never had a good time, I sat by my bedside, with papers and poetry about Estella)
Because John's back in 'Nam, and he's not winning this war either but John Winchester's been killing since he was eighteen years old. Maybe he knew something else once, but it's been a long time and a lot of road since then. (I saw tail lights last night in a dream about my old life/Everybody leaves and why, why wouldn't you?)