(no subject)
So last night I got bored (no internet + nothing interesting to do + alekrnaljkhnh = bored), and I was like "huh, I could totally write drabbles FOR EVERY LETTER IN THE ALPHABET! \O/" and so then I did. By about letter, uh, Q, I think, I started losing steam and being like "BED NOW??" because it was going on 3am, but I wanted to finish first, so. Yeah, it gets crappier as time goes on.
Supernatural (obviously), preseries, John's POV, ends at about the Pilot episode, so no spoilers or anything. adjnadnganh, holy crap, spoilerfail, Erin. Jump the Shark spoilers, my bad!
Uh, and PG or whatever.
And no title. Because I'm cool (and titles aren't).
Each section is 100 words. :)
After the fire, nothing is the same. Dean doesn't say a word, and he won't let go of Sammy, and John doesn't know what to do about it, about anything at all, so he lets it go after a few failed attempts to get Dean to say something. He's got more important things to think about- like keeping them safe, safe from whatever killed Mary, like finding it and killing it before it can do anything else to hurt his family. They leave Mike's when he and his wife tell John he should take Dean to a shrink. Dean's fine.
Building a new life isn't easy, and more often than not John thinks maybe he should just give up, send the boys to someone else, someone who can take care of them better than he can, because Dean still isn't talking and it's been a month since he last heard his boy's voice, and Missouri says there are things out there in the dark, evil things, and he has to find the one that killed Mary, but if he finds other ones along the way, well, that's fine too. Jim offers to take them in, but he can't let go.
Crying gives him a headache, or maybe that's the alcohol. He isn't sure which it is, but he doesn't like that he's sitting here with tears running down his face, head throbbing and a bottle in his hand, with his five ear-old son watching from across the room with his arms wrapped around his little brother. Silent. He's always silent. Sometimes John gets angry, shakes him and yells and demands he say something, but it only makes Dean cry, and then Sammy cries, and he feels like the worst father ever, but Dean just hugs him once he's calmed down.
Dean's voice wakes him up in the middle of the night, and at first he has no idea what he's hearing, because he hasn't heard that sound in months. When he looks around, he can see Dean sitting on the dirty floor between the two beds, Sammy on his lap, and Dean's talking and crying at the same time, and John practically throws himself out of bed to get to his boys. Dean stops talking in surprise, and he thinks no, no you don't stop, don't do that to me again, and Dean says "Daddy?" and maybe they'll be okay.
Everything seems to reach a point where it's at least manageable, after that. He spends most of his days doing research, and his nights out hunting down evil things. At first it's mostly spirits, because they're easy, and he needs the practice. Jim sends him information, locations, and he goes, and it feels good. He teaches Dean to put salt around the doors and the windows of their motel rooms, tells him to lock the doors, not to let anyone else inside ever, says watch out for Sammy and leaves his boys alone in crappy motel rooms. It's okay, though.
First-aid is an impromptu lesson when he comes home torn to shreds and Dean's sitting there, waiting up for him while Sammy sleeps, and his eyes go wide. John teaches him what he can, ends up sewing himself up most of the way and then giving Dean the needle and praying it doesn't go badly, and Dean's only seven, but his stitches hold, even if they are a little bit sloppy. After it's all done, and the blood's been wiped off of both of them, Dean throws up in the bathroom and then he curls himself around Sammy and sleeps.
Gun training just before Dean turns eight, in an empty wooded lot miles from the road, with tin cans set up for targets. Dean bulls-eyes every single one on his first try. They go back to Bobby's, where they've been staying for the week, and the older hunter is chasing a hyperactive Sammy all around the house when they return, listens with half an ear to Dean's excited chatter before sending him off to get his brother cleaned up for dinner. He dreams of a gun in his son's small hands for weeks. It's better than most of his dreams.
Hunting with partners is one thing, but hunting with a boy who wants to be grown up is hard, especially when the hunt goes south too fast to predict. Dean bleeding where the creature's claws caught him, dazed under a concussion from hitting a tree too hard, and he still takes it out while John's pinned down. He's never been more terrified or more proud in his life. When he gets them back to the car, Sammy's asking too many questions, and Dean does his best to reassure his brother that he's okay even while he's getting weaker and weaker.
It's when Sammy's six that he learns what's really going on, what they really do, why they move and why they're always getting hurt. He's scared at first, always asking if they're sure it's safe, if he'll come back if he leaves this time, and Dean's the one reassuring him, because John doesn't want to lie to him and he just wants him to stop asking, but Dean knows how to calm him. John doesn't take Dean along anymore, makes him stay with Sammy. Hunters want his boy, rumor says. Well, they won't get him - he won't let them.
Jim keeps him posted on what he knows about the hunters after his son, and Sammy learns to shoot. Hunting proper animals, and he takes down a deer his first try. Dean kills a hunter that's after Sammy, he doesn't even hesitate, not like John does. Dean's shaking when the man falls, and John gathers him up in his arms and carries him back to the car where Sammy's waiting. He leaves them there, armed, while he goes and buries the body in the woods. They go out and get pizza and ice cream. He never wanted this for them.
Knowing what's out in the dark doesn't seem to do well with Sammy. Where Dean took it in stride and even seemed to flourish in his role as protector, Sam does his best to get out of any and all training, prefers to have his nose in books all the time. Books that have nothing to do with the supernatural, and even though he does great with his Latin, he still makes a fuss about it. He wants to live a normal life, he says, something safe. John wants that for him, but he's too scared to let him go.
Like magic, as soon as Sam hits thirteen he goes from occasional complaining to full-out rebellion with anything John tries to get him to do. He listens to Dean, usually, even if it's with too much complaining; if it's an order from his father, he seems to do the exact opposite. It always leads to fights, and Dean's always stepping between them when it gets loud, or when they come to blows, leading Sam away and shooting John a look that he thinks is reproachful, and it frustrates him that he doesn't know what to do with his own sons.
Maybe it's a teenage thing, but he can't remember Dean ever having this attitude towards him, towards anything. Sure, he got in a little trouble at school now and then, but it wasn't anything serious, nothing a lecture or extra training didn't cure. Sam almost completely refuses to even talk to him, unless he's in a rare good mood, and the moments where they feel like a family are fewer than ever, farther between. He goes on more week-long hunts, leaves the boys money and credit cards and tells them to be careful; Sam, at least, is happier without him.
Nashville has a lot of restless spirits, and most people never realize it. Not until they're being killed, anyway. He's trying to figure out how to unearth a body from a very public cemetery when he gets a call from Sam, accusing tone and he sounds like he's trying to keep his voice down, asking where he is, why he isn't here. John doesn't know what the hell Sam's on about, why it even matters, and he says as much. "Dean just graduated. You said you'd be here." Guilt kicks in, turns into anger, and he turns it on Sam.
Opening his eyes to stare at a clean white hospital ceiling, he wonders where his boys are, if they know where he is. He can't really remember what happened, but judging from the way his body aches all over, it was a hunt gone wrong, and when a nurse comes in he asks for his cell phone. She gives it to him, and there's fifteen missed calls and it's six days after he told them he'd be home, and all the calls are from Dean's cell. He calls back on the hospital phone and says he's fine, just banged up.
People used to tell him when the boys grew up, when they got past the toddler stage, it would get easier. They said it before Mary died, they kept saying it after, and he always hoped they were right. But they were wrong, because it just gets harder the older they get. Sure, he doesn't have to change diapers or feed them, because they're old enough to take care of themselves that way, but it gets harder when Sam starts talking about college and Dean goes out to hustle pool and comes back late, smelling like perfume and cheap liquor.
Quitting isn't an option. He wishes it were, wishes he could have stopped this a long time ago. But he has to find whatever killed Mary, and he can't leave the rest of these things out there to kill other peoples' wives, other peoples' children and families and friends. It's too late- they're hunters now, this is their life. Sam doesn't get that, still thinks college and a career and a normal life. Part of him wants to see him have that, but part of him is terrified to let him out of his sight. So they keep fighting eachother.
Rain hitting the roof of the motel they're staying in keeps him awake, it sounds like voices whispering to him. In the next bed, Sam and Dean are vague shadows, Sam taking up almost all the space there is, and John thinks he needs to start getting two rooms just so they can have their own beds. Dean's not asleep either, he keeps moving restlessly and the shifting of the blankets adds to the whispers in the air. It's like something is changing, something huge, something both he and Dean can feel. There's no immediate danger; they can't do anything.
Sam's graduation is too much pomp, too much chaos, leaves him feeling exhausted and hollow. Sam's graduation is Dean looking ready to fly apart, like maybe he isn't ready for this either, green eyes trained on Sam as soon as he's visible and he hasn't said a word all day. He doesn't cheer or shout when Sam crosses the stage, he just claps and smiles a little. John thinks he sees tears in Dean's eyes, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't have to fight them back, himself. They go for dinner somewhere nice afterward; Dean stays silent.
The summer that follows Sam's graduation moves like trailing smoke, slow and curling through the air, but dissipating before they're ready. They all know what's coming, they all know but none of them talk about it. It's like a temporary truce, Sam being agreeable and John pretending Sam isn't planning something, and Dean pretending he isn't breaking apart at the seams. The inevitable fight at the summer's end leaves all of them in pieces, and Sam's gone and he told him not to come back. He doesn't think Dean'll ever forgive him for those words; he won't forgive himself, either.
Unsteady partnerships aren't good for hunting, and the way Dean's eyes never meet his for more than a split second makes John feel like something's lost. He knows what it is, he knows it's his own fault, but he wishes Dean would just get past it. They have work to do, but Dean's behavior makes him worry about hunting together. He sends Dean on his own, and he gets a phone call, a boy named Adam who says he's John's son, and he thinks maybe this can be a second chance. He doesn't think twice about meeting up with Adam.
Vague and distant, he tells Dean he's working, he'll check in later. Dean accepts it easily, and it seems like the distance is making things better, making Dean less bitter. He visits Adam, secretly visits Sam, meets up with Dean, all rarely but frequent enough to feel like he's still making an effort. He's better on his own, it's safer if he's on his own. He won't be the reason his sons get killed. He gets a lead, and then it's time to drop off the radar- Dean's frequent calls go ignored, unanswered; he feels bad, but it's not safe.
Where his days used to be filled with hunting, now it's all research. He still moves from place to place, he doesn't settle, because this thing, this demon, might be following him. It might know where he is, and he needs to keep moving. He can't draw attention, not to himself, not to the boys. He changes credit cards as fast as he can get new ones. He lets his cell phone payment slip, lets it get disconnected and buys a new one. He needs to be unreachable for just a little longer. He's so close- it's almost over. Almost.
X-ray vision would be useful, John thinks dazedly, or maybe laser vision, because either way he's stuck behind several feet of stone wall trying to wait out whatever creature this is with it's heavy breathing. It's not the demon - he stumbled into something else, some other hunt, and he hadn't been able to turn it down. Now he waits, and he thinks you don't get to kill me, I've still got work to do, and it slips around a corner and into the sights of his gun, and he shoots. He's got work to do, and time is wasting.
You don't survive as a hunter without connections, and it's his connections that put him back on the demon's path. He leaves Jericho, leaves his journal behind, knows Dean's looking for him by now and his son will find it, and he goes on the trail again. It's his connections that tell him soon after that Sam's girlfriend has died- he's had people watching Sam for a while now, keeping an eye on him; they say Dean and Sam are hunting together again, and he hopes they're right- Dean needs Sam, and right now he thinks Sam needs Dean, too.
Zippo flaring to life, the grave swallowed up in flames, and John steps away. He's still on the trail, trying not to draw attention to himself- and he's found that that means hunting, that means not doing anything out of the ordinary. This thing's been watching him, it knows his habits. If it thinks he's stopped hunting to look for it, he'll lose his chance. So he does simple hunts, salt-and-burns, mostly. His phone is working again, and he sets the message to forward calls to Dean. He ignores the boys' messages with fear choking at him; it's almost over.
Supernatural (obviously), preseries, John's POV, ends at about the Pilot episode, so no spoilers or anything. adjnadnganh, holy crap, spoilerfail, Erin. Jump the Shark spoilers, my bad!
Uh, and PG or whatever.
And no title. Because I'm cool (and titles aren't).
Each section is 100 words. :)
After the fire, nothing is the same. Dean doesn't say a word, and he won't let go of Sammy, and John doesn't know what to do about it, about anything at all, so he lets it go after a few failed attempts to get Dean to say something. He's got more important things to think about- like keeping them safe, safe from whatever killed Mary, like finding it and killing it before it can do anything else to hurt his family. They leave Mike's when he and his wife tell John he should take Dean to a shrink. Dean's fine.
Building a new life isn't easy, and more often than not John thinks maybe he should just give up, send the boys to someone else, someone who can take care of them better than he can, because Dean still isn't talking and it's been a month since he last heard his boy's voice, and Missouri says there are things out there in the dark, evil things, and he has to find the one that killed Mary, but if he finds other ones along the way, well, that's fine too. Jim offers to take them in, but he can't let go.
Crying gives him a headache, or maybe that's the alcohol. He isn't sure which it is, but he doesn't like that he's sitting here with tears running down his face, head throbbing and a bottle in his hand, with his five ear-old son watching from across the room with his arms wrapped around his little brother. Silent. He's always silent. Sometimes John gets angry, shakes him and yells and demands he say something, but it only makes Dean cry, and then Sammy cries, and he feels like the worst father ever, but Dean just hugs him once he's calmed down.
Dean's voice wakes him up in the middle of the night, and at first he has no idea what he's hearing, because he hasn't heard that sound in months. When he looks around, he can see Dean sitting on the dirty floor between the two beds, Sammy on his lap, and Dean's talking and crying at the same time, and John practically throws himself out of bed to get to his boys. Dean stops talking in surprise, and he thinks no, no you don't stop, don't do that to me again, and Dean says "Daddy?" and maybe they'll be okay.
Everything seems to reach a point where it's at least manageable, after that. He spends most of his days doing research, and his nights out hunting down evil things. At first it's mostly spirits, because they're easy, and he needs the practice. Jim sends him information, locations, and he goes, and it feels good. He teaches Dean to put salt around the doors and the windows of their motel rooms, tells him to lock the doors, not to let anyone else inside ever, says watch out for Sammy and leaves his boys alone in crappy motel rooms. It's okay, though.
First-aid is an impromptu lesson when he comes home torn to shreds and Dean's sitting there, waiting up for him while Sammy sleeps, and his eyes go wide. John teaches him what he can, ends up sewing himself up most of the way and then giving Dean the needle and praying it doesn't go badly, and Dean's only seven, but his stitches hold, even if they are a little bit sloppy. After it's all done, and the blood's been wiped off of both of them, Dean throws up in the bathroom and then he curls himself around Sammy and sleeps.
Gun training just before Dean turns eight, in an empty wooded lot miles from the road, with tin cans set up for targets. Dean bulls-eyes every single one on his first try. They go back to Bobby's, where they've been staying for the week, and the older hunter is chasing a hyperactive Sammy all around the house when they return, listens with half an ear to Dean's excited chatter before sending him off to get his brother cleaned up for dinner. He dreams of a gun in his son's small hands for weeks. It's better than most of his dreams.
Hunting with partners is one thing, but hunting with a boy who wants to be grown up is hard, especially when the hunt goes south too fast to predict. Dean bleeding where the creature's claws caught him, dazed under a concussion from hitting a tree too hard, and he still takes it out while John's pinned down. He's never been more terrified or more proud in his life. When he gets them back to the car, Sammy's asking too many questions, and Dean does his best to reassure his brother that he's okay even while he's getting weaker and weaker.
It's when Sammy's six that he learns what's really going on, what they really do, why they move and why they're always getting hurt. He's scared at first, always asking if they're sure it's safe, if he'll come back if he leaves this time, and Dean's the one reassuring him, because John doesn't want to lie to him and he just wants him to stop asking, but Dean knows how to calm him. John doesn't take Dean along anymore, makes him stay with Sammy. Hunters want his boy, rumor says. Well, they won't get him - he won't let them.
Jim keeps him posted on what he knows about the hunters after his son, and Sammy learns to shoot. Hunting proper animals, and he takes down a deer his first try. Dean kills a hunter that's after Sammy, he doesn't even hesitate, not like John does. Dean's shaking when the man falls, and John gathers him up in his arms and carries him back to the car where Sammy's waiting. He leaves them there, armed, while he goes and buries the body in the woods. They go out and get pizza and ice cream. He never wanted this for them.
Knowing what's out in the dark doesn't seem to do well with Sammy. Where Dean took it in stride and even seemed to flourish in his role as protector, Sam does his best to get out of any and all training, prefers to have his nose in books all the time. Books that have nothing to do with the supernatural, and even though he does great with his Latin, he still makes a fuss about it. He wants to live a normal life, he says, something safe. John wants that for him, but he's too scared to let him go.
Like magic, as soon as Sam hits thirteen he goes from occasional complaining to full-out rebellion with anything John tries to get him to do. He listens to Dean, usually, even if it's with too much complaining; if it's an order from his father, he seems to do the exact opposite. It always leads to fights, and Dean's always stepping between them when it gets loud, or when they come to blows, leading Sam away and shooting John a look that he thinks is reproachful, and it frustrates him that he doesn't know what to do with his own sons.
Maybe it's a teenage thing, but he can't remember Dean ever having this attitude towards him, towards anything. Sure, he got in a little trouble at school now and then, but it wasn't anything serious, nothing a lecture or extra training didn't cure. Sam almost completely refuses to even talk to him, unless he's in a rare good mood, and the moments where they feel like a family are fewer than ever, farther between. He goes on more week-long hunts, leaves the boys money and credit cards and tells them to be careful; Sam, at least, is happier without him.
Nashville has a lot of restless spirits, and most people never realize it. Not until they're being killed, anyway. He's trying to figure out how to unearth a body from a very public cemetery when he gets a call from Sam, accusing tone and he sounds like he's trying to keep his voice down, asking where he is, why he isn't here. John doesn't know what the hell Sam's on about, why it even matters, and he says as much. "Dean just graduated. You said you'd be here." Guilt kicks in, turns into anger, and he turns it on Sam.
Opening his eyes to stare at a clean white hospital ceiling, he wonders where his boys are, if they know where he is. He can't really remember what happened, but judging from the way his body aches all over, it was a hunt gone wrong, and when a nurse comes in he asks for his cell phone. She gives it to him, and there's fifteen missed calls and it's six days after he told them he'd be home, and all the calls are from Dean's cell. He calls back on the hospital phone and says he's fine, just banged up.
People used to tell him when the boys grew up, when they got past the toddler stage, it would get easier. They said it before Mary died, they kept saying it after, and he always hoped they were right. But they were wrong, because it just gets harder the older they get. Sure, he doesn't have to change diapers or feed them, because they're old enough to take care of themselves that way, but it gets harder when Sam starts talking about college and Dean goes out to hustle pool and comes back late, smelling like perfume and cheap liquor.
Quitting isn't an option. He wishes it were, wishes he could have stopped this a long time ago. But he has to find whatever killed Mary, and he can't leave the rest of these things out there to kill other peoples' wives, other peoples' children and families and friends. It's too late- they're hunters now, this is their life. Sam doesn't get that, still thinks college and a career and a normal life. Part of him wants to see him have that, but part of him is terrified to let him out of his sight. So they keep fighting eachother.
Rain hitting the roof of the motel they're staying in keeps him awake, it sounds like voices whispering to him. In the next bed, Sam and Dean are vague shadows, Sam taking up almost all the space there is, and John thinks he needs to start getting two rooms just so they can have their own beds. Dean's not asleep either, he keeps moving restlessly and the shifting of the blankets adds to the whispers in the air. It's like something is changing, something huge, something both he and Dean can feel. There's no immediate danger; they can't do anything.
Sam's graduation is too much pomp, too much chaos, leaves him feeling exhausted and hollow. Sam's graduation is Dean looking ready to fly apart, like maybe he isn't ready for this either, green eyes trained on Sam as soon as he's visible and he hasn't said a word all day. He doesn't cheer or shout when Sam crosses the stage, he just claps and smiles a little. John thinks he sees tears in Dean's eyes, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't have to fight them back, himself. They go for dinner somewhere nice afterward; Dean stays silent.
The summer that follows Sam's graduation moves like trailing smoke, slow and curling through the air, but dissipating before they're ready. They all know what's coming, they all know but none of them talk about it. It's like a temporary truce, Sam being agreeable and John pretending Sam isn't planning something, and Dean pretending he isn't breaking apart at the seams. The inevitable fight at the summer's end leaves all of them in pieces, and Sam's gone and he told him not to come back. He doesn't think Dean'll ever forgive him for those words; he won't forgive himself, either.
Unsteady partnerships aren't good for hunting, and the way Dean's eyes never meet his for more than a split second makes John feel like something's lost. He knows what it is, he knows it's his own fault, but he wishes Dean would just get past it. They have work to do, but Dean's behavior makes him worry about hunting together. He sends Dean on his own, and he gets a phone call, a boy named Adam who says he's John's son, and he thinks maybe this can be a second chance. He doesn't think twice about meeting up with Adam.
Vague and distant, he tells Dean he's working, he'll check in later. Dean accepts it easily, and it seems like the distance is making things better, making Dean less bitter. He visits Adam, secretly visits Sam, meets up with Dean, all rarely but frequent enough to feel like he's still making an effort. He's better on his own, it's safer if he's on his own. He won't be the reason his sons get killed. He gets a lead, and then it's time to drop off the radar- Dean's frequent calls go ignored, unanswered; he feels bad, but it's not safe.
Where his days used to be filled with hunting, now it's all research. He still moves from place to place, he doesn't settle, because this thing, this demon, might be following him. It might know where he is, and he needs to keep moving. He can't draw attention, not to himself, not to the boys. He changes credit cards as fast as he can get new ones. He lets his cell phone payment slip, lets it get disconnected and buys a new one. He needs to be unreachable for just a little longer. He's so close- it's almost over. Almost.
X-ray vision would be useful, John thinks dazedly, or maybe laser vision, because either way he's stuck behind several feet of stone wall trying to wait out whatever creature this is with it's heavy breathing. It's not the demon - he stumbled into something else, some other hunt, and he hadn't been able to turn it down. Now he waits, and he thinks you don't get to kill me, I've still got work to do, and it slips around a corner and into the sights of his gun, and he shoots. He's got work to do, and time is wasting.
You don't survive as a hunter without connections, and it's his connections that put him back on the demon's path. He leaves Jericho, leaves his journal behind, knows Dean's looking for him by now and his son will find it, and he goes on the trail again. It's his connections that tell him soon after that Sam's girlfriend has died- he's had people watching Sam for a while now, keeping an eye on him; they say Dean and Sam are hunting together again, and he hopes they're right- Dean needs Sam, and right now he thinks Sam needs Dean, too.
Zippo flaring to life, the grave swallowed up in flames, and John steps away. He's still on the trail, trying not to draw attention to himself- and he's found that that means hunting, that means not doing anything out of the ordinary. This thing's been watching him, it knows his habits. If it thinks he's stopped hunting to look for it, he'll lose his chance. So he does simple hunts, salt-and-burns, mostly. His phone is working again, and he sets the message to forward calls to Dean. He ignores the boys' messages with fear choking at him; it's almost over.