[Supernatural] "Let in What You Need" (PG)
Author's Note: Written for 
fic_promptly's Supernatural, Missouri, learning. Featuring a very young Missouri.
It started when she reached her twelfth summer and her monthly started to come: the images and names and snatches of conversations that swirled around people. Made going to the market for food harder and school got nigh to impossible. Voices. Felt like everyone's voices had started yapping in her head all at once, though people never said a word to her.
"You got the ear for it, honey," Great Gramma Florida told her, setting Missouri down beside her on the porch.
"The ear for what?" Missouri asked, trying to shut out the voices from Gramma's mind, the memories of a younger sister who had something similar, for getting a feel for things that she touched, some good, some not so good, some downright scary.
"You know what I mean, child. You hear what goes on in people's heads," Gramma said, looking her in the eye. "That's why I'm thinking of your Great-great Aunt Hepzybah. She had the touch, happens in a lotta the women on my side the clan: we got a sense for things. Some got the touch, some got the sight, some goes by smells, you got the ear. That's the hardest. Can't wear gloves and shut it out. Can't go 'round with cotton balls in yer ears."
"So what do I do, go live under a rock?" Missouri asked.
"No. You got a gift. Might not look like one now, but you can use it: help people, find things out about them. Things they might not even know about themselves. Things that have touched them without them even knowing it," Gramma said.
"But meantimes, you gotta figure out how to keep it all from rushin' in on you," she added.
"I'd like to just build a wall around my head," Missouri said, putting her head on her tented knees.
"No, you don't want to do that. You do that, you keep everything out, and that ain't healthy," Gramma said. "What you gotta do is put up something 'round your wise little head that'll let in what you need but not what you don't."
"Like armor," Missouri asked, peeking out.
"Nope, more like a basket or a quilt. Something to keep your head warm but not enough to make it cold," Gramma said, looking into her eyes. "You just think like a quilt."
"Quilt sounds good," Missouri said, imagining her head under the quilt on her bed, keeping out the cold on a winter night and keeping in the warmth. As she thought about it, the voices from Gramma's head started to fade away, still audible, but not so loud as before.
"Starting to work?" Gramma asked.
"Yeah. Just gotta practice I guess," Missouri said.
fic_promptly's Supernatural, Missouri, learning. Featuring a very young Missouri.
It started when she reached her twelfth summer and her monthly started to come: the images and names and snatches of conversations that swirled around people. Made going to the market for food harder and school got nigh to impossible. Voices. Felt like everyone's voices had started yapping in her head all at once, though people never said a word to her.
"You got the ear for it, honey," Great Gramma Florida told her, setting Missouri down beside her on the porch.
"The ear for what?" Missouri asked, trying to shut out the voices from Gramma's mind, the memories of a younger sister who had something similar, for getting a feel for things that she touched, some good, some not so good, some downright scary.
"You know what I mean, child. You hear what goes on in people's heads," Gramma said, looking her in the eye. "That's why I'm thinking of your Great-great Aunt Hepzybah. She had the touch, happens in a lotta the women on my side the clan: we got a sense for things. Some got the touch, some got the sight, some goes by smells, you got the ear. That's the hardest. Can't wear gloves and shut it out. Can't go 'round with cotton balls in yer ears."
"So what do I do, go live under a rock?" Missouri asked.
"No. You got a gift. Might not look like one now, but you can use it: help people, find things out about them. Things they might not even know about themselves. Things that have touched them without them even knowing it," Gramma said.
"But meantimes, you gotta figure out how to keep it all from rushin' in on you," she added.
"I'd like to just build a wall around my head," Missouri said, putting her head on her tented knees.
"No, you don't want to do that. You do that, you keep everything out, and that ain't healthy," Gramma said. "What you gotta do is put up something 'round your wise little head that'll let in what you need but not what you don't."
"Like armor," Missouri asked, peeking out.
"Nope, more like a basket or a quilt. Something to keep your head warm but not enough to make it cold," Gramma said, looking into her eyes. "You just think like a quilt."
"Quilt sounds good," Missouri said, imagining her head under the quilt on her bed, keeping out the cold on a winter night and keeping in the warmth. As she thought about it, the voices from Gramma's head started to fade away, still audible, but not so loud as before.
"Starting to work?" Gramma asked.
"Yeah. Just gotta practice I guess," Missouri said.