My fic cherry
So about 5 months ago I decided to finally write a supernatural fic. It was a monumental decision, I definatly took a step that can't be undone and I don't know how I feel about that. Anyways, I posted it on fanfiction.net and didn't get a single review.... ha! I meant this to be part 1 of a 3 part series, one story from Dean's POV, then John, and finally Sam. If I finish it it will be for my own benefit. I need to know I can finish something in life.
_______________________
That Was Then
Dean’s introduction to the supernatural was different from Sam’s. He may not have understood everything that was happening, but he knew the fire was the catalyst.
Rating PG, Word Count 3207
Disclaimer: Not mine
After the fire, Dean didn’t understand a lot of things. Most of all he didn’t understand how the fire happened, why it happened, and why his mommy had to go. He had vague memories of a thin white night gown fluttering among the flames but whenever he asked his dad about it he was answered with a “hush now Dean”. That alone wouldn’t have deterred him, but the quiet noises of sorrow at night scared him enough to stop him from asking after awhile.
Things changed a lot after the fire. Dean’s very best friend Neal from daycare still had a mom that would drive Dean home and wait until he got inside before she drove off. She asked every day if Dean needed help in, but his Dad said it was very important to keep everyone away so Dean would jump out of the car before she had the chance to ask again after he said no.
When Dean got inside he would find his dad pacing the living room staring at the fluttering scraps of newspaper that were taped and glued and thumb- tacked to the wall. He used to let Dean cut stories out of the newspaper and praised him for his carefully snipped boxes. He stopped though after Dean asked him if his mommy would be mad at the mess on her walls.
There would already be a glass of milk and cut up apples waiting on the table so Dean was never upset that his dad wouldn’t stop drawing lines connecting the pieces of newspaper when he came in. He always ran to Sam’s play pen first. Usually Sam was trying to stick his entire fist into his mouth. Dean would gently pull his cubby little hand away, laughing when Sam’s big head tried to pick itself up to follow. After sufficiently greeting his brother he would go to the table and eat, ignoring his dad’s muttering although words like “unnatural” and “abnormal” were becoming familiar.
The house still smelled like smoke, and although his mommy wasn’t there to tuck him in at night Dean still felt safe and secure. His dad moved Sam’s crib into Dean’s room and stayed there too, sometimes slumped in his mom’s rocking chair or scrunched up in Dean’s narrow bed. When Dean had nightmares his dad was there to wake him up and eventually his sleep went undisturbed because he knew he was being watched over.
Eventually even Dean started noticing weird things going on. People used to always visit when pies, and cake, and casseroles but lately other people started knocking at the door. People with suits that weren’t allowed though the door. Once one of those people came to Dean’s school and asked him silly questions like if he got dinner every night but his Dad stormed in before Dean could really answer, pointing his finger and yelling at his red faced teacher before swinging Dean up and out of the room. Dean never saw Neal again.
Dean didn’t go to school anymore after that and spent his days stretched out in front of the tv. His dad only let him watch Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers but Dean spent most of the time ignoring the programs and watching Sam try to wiggle across the floor. It was pretty funny but it didn’t really matter because a week later Dean came down from his room to the scent of fresh paint.
The walls were bare and freshly white and his dad was loading up plastic black bags into their car and Sam was already belted in and sleeping. His dad paused and knelt down to Dean’s level and explained that they were leaving, that the fire shouldn’t have happened and they were going to find out why and stop it from happening again. “Will mommy come back then?” Dean asked. His dad tightened his fingers around his shoulder and shook his head. Mommy wasn’t coming back ever, but his dad was going to punish the person responsible. Dean accepted that easily enough, he already knew his dad was a hero, his mommy already told him so before the fire.
_______________________
That Was Then
Dean’s introduction to the supernatural was different from Sam’s. He may not have understood everything that was happening, but he knew the fire was the catalyst.
Rating PG, Word Count 3207
Disclaimer: Not mine
After the fire, Dean didn’t understand a lot of things. Most of all he didn’t understand how the fire happened, why it happened, and why his mommy had to go. He had vague memories of a thin white night gown fluttering among the flames but whenever he asked his dad about it he was answered with a “hush now Dean”. That alone wouldn’t have deterred him, but the quiet noises of sorrow at night scared him enough to stop him from asking after awhile.
Things changed a lot after the fire. Dean’s very best friend Neal from daycare still had a mom that would drive Dean home and wait until he got inside before she drove off. She asked every day if Dean needed help in, but his Dad said it was very important to keep everyone away so Dean would jump out of the car before she had the chance to ask again after he said no.
When Dean got inside he would find his dad pacing the living room staring at the fluttering scraps of newspaper that were taped and glued and thumb- tacked to the wall. He used to let Dean cut stories out of the newspaper and praised him for his carefully snipped boxes. He stopped though after Dean asked him if his mommy would be mad at the mess on her walls.
There would already be a glass of milk and cut up apples waiting on the table so Dean was never upset that his dad wouldn’t stop drawing lines connecting the pieces of newspaper when he came in. He always ran to Sam’s play pen first. Usually Sam was trying to stick his entire fist into his mouth. Dean would gently pull his cubby little hand away, laughing when Sam’s big head tried to pick itself up to follow. After sufficiently greeting his brother he would go to the table and eat, ignoring his dad’s muttering although words like “unnatural” and “abnormal” were becoming familiar.
The house still smelled like smoke, and although his mommy wasn’t there to tuck him in at night Dean still felt safe and secure. His dad moved Sam’s crib into Dean’s room and stayed there too, sometimes slumped in his mom’s rocking chair or scrunched up in Dean’s narrow bed. When Dean had nightmares his dad was there to wake him up and eventually his sleep went undisturbed because he knew he was being watched over.
Eventually even Dean started noticing weird things going on. People used to always visit when pies, and cake, and casseroles but lately other people started knocking at the door. People with suits that weren’t allowed though the door. Once one of those people came to Dean’s school and asked him silly questions like if he got dinner every night but his Dad stormed in before Dean could really answer, pointing his finger and yelling at his red faced teacher before swinging Dean up and out of the room. Dean never saw Neal again.
Dean didn’t go to school anymore after that and spent his days stretched out in front of the tv. His dad only let him watch Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers but Dean spent most of the time ignoring the programs and watching Sam try to wiggle across the floor. It was pretty funny but it didn’t really matter because a week later Dean came down from his room to the scent of fresh paint.
The walls were bare and freshly white and his dad was loading up plastic black bags into their car and Sam was already belted in and sleeping. His dad paused and knelt down to Dean’s level and explained that they were leaving, that the fire shouldn’t have happened and they were going to find out why and stop it from happening again. “Will mommy come back then?” Dean asked. His dad tightened his fingers around his shoulder and shook his head. Mommy wasn’t coming back ever, but his dad was going to punish the person responsible. Dean accepted that easily enough, he already knew his dad was a hero, his mommy already told him so before the fire.