FILL: Sam, gen, uniform, 1/2latentfunctionMay 22 2011, 05:41:43 UTC
SIGH, this did not wind up like I thought it would. way more weapons porn than clothing porn, sorry! :|
Sam took the envelope from Stanford out of the center of the history textbook he'd stolen a few towns back, now that Dean was on shift at the gas station down the road and Dad was supposedly chatting up the sheriff. They'd sent him another thick packet of papers he needed to turn around and hide after he'd accepted their offer. It included a neon flier listing things he should bring to the dorm and things he needed to leave at home, going so far as to break his suggested wardrobe down into the numbers of each article of clothing he might want. Kids who weren't living out of a duffel bag in the first place might have trouble choosing, but Sam was taking all his things, as if he was just making another move. He'd meant to check and recheck the list one more time since he was alone in the motel room, but he came across that bright blue paper and realized he couldn't take everything he owned, not after all. He'd seen the phrase zero
( ... )
FILL: Sam, gen, uniform, 2/2latentfunctionMay 22 2011, 05:42:15 UTC
Sam unpacked until the spread of weapons on his bed started to rival the display on the other mattress. He ran his finger over the metal and wood before him, and bit his lip while he choose a pair of blades to take. He knew he could get a gun somehow if he ever needed one again, but knives were easy to hide. He tucked the ones he wanted into pairs of socks and then looked at what was left over. He wanted to throw it all away, to sell everything and put the money with the stash he'd been squirreling over the last two years, but he looked at the other bed again, the number of things it'd take to give Dean and Dad a fighting chance, and knew he couldn't get rid of any of it. He didn't want the weapons but they were still good; he couldn't give them away while Dean might need them
( ... )
Re: FILL: Sam, gen, uniform, 2/2neros_violinMay 22 2011, 17:34:15 UTC
Oh my goodness, bb. This is so bittersweet and perfect. So many brilliant little details about their lives and his past, with Dean at the center of it all (of course). I love it when you get into Sam's head because you write him so well! <3
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Sam took the envelope from Stanford out of the center of the history textbook he'd stolen a few towns back, now that Dean was on shift at the gas station down the road and Dad was supposedly chatting up the sheriff. They'd sent him another thick packet of papers he needed to turn around and hide after he'd accepted their offer. It included a neon flier listing things he should bring to the dorm and things he needed to leave at home, going so far as to break his suggested wardrobe down into the numbers of each article of clothing he might want. Kids who weren't living out of a duffel bag in the first place might have trouble choosing, but Sam was taking all his things, as if he was just making another move. He'd meant to check and recheck the list one more time since he was alone in the motel room, but he came across that bright blue paper and realized he couldn't take everything he owned, not after all. He'd seen the phrase zero ( ... )
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