(no subject)
Title: It's Not Mine, Son.
Author: ssstevie
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Characters: John, Sam, Dean Impala
Notes: For SPN!Christmas, collegeanna19 requested a ficlet about the Metallicar.
I wanted to write it, but I don't know how to write anything under 500 words, unless it's a haiku.
*****
John made a lot of promises to Mary. Most of which he never intended to keep.
It always made him feel guilty.
She asked him enough times about two, though. He knew he had two promises to keep.
John, when we teach the boys to drive, we should do it in my car. I really don't want them in your truck. That thing is gonna kill something one of these days.
Daddy, when I grow up, do I get to have your car? Can I paint it blue stripes?
It's not my car, son. Never was.
When Dean was seventeen, John knew it was time. Time to give him the car, time to let him take over. He had done so well. Learned so much. Taken care of Sam in ways John never could. Sam reminded him so much of Mary...especially when he was solemn, which was most of the time.
Dean had been driving since he was fourteen, but the car belonged to him when he turned seventeen.
He promised.
After he told Dean the car was his, he left the boys there to admire it anew and walked off toward the sunset in search of a park or a field. Somewhere to just be alone.
He never was comfortable in that car without Mary.
He wondered if he'd ever be comfortable again, period.
It wasn't fair to Dean to give him a car and then completely break down and force him to deal with his father's problems like usual.
He found the park. And stayed there until it was dark. Certain that the boys would be safe in that car. Their mother's car.
Dean stood in shock after his dad threw him the keys. Just stood there. He had been driving since he was twelve. He knew he'd eventually get the car, but he didn't know it'd be today.
Then he watched his dad walk away. He didn't really understand. Why didn't he just stay there and help him wash it? Why did he always leave when things got the least bit difficult?
Dean decided that it wasn't the time to blow up at John. It never helped. And besides, his dad just gave him the car.
Dean said "My Impala. My car. My baby. Look at my pretty girl." Out loud until the word "car" ceased to have all meaning.
Then he went inside and grabbed Sammy so they could go for a drive.
Dean always felt so safe in this car. It was the only constant in his life other than Sammy. He felt his mother in this car, the car held his entire life inside its trunk, like it was protecting him and supplying him with all the ammunition he'd ever need.
Dean had a clear and sudden memory of sitting in his mom's lap and pretending to drive while Mary held him and taught him how to beep the horn.
Sammy got out after about an hour, but Dean stayed until it was dark. He wanted to sit there and just feel. He'd never change anything about this car. It was perfect. Even though he'd been in this very car a thousand times before, now it was his. He felt at home in this car. His car. His baby.
Author: ssstevie
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Characters: John, Sam, Dean Impala
Notes: For SPN!Christmas, collegeanna19 requested a ficlet about the Metallicar.
I wanted to write it, but I don't know how to write anything under 500 words, unless it's a haiku.
*****
John made a lot of promises to Mary. Most of which he never intended to keep.
It always made him feel guilty.
She asked him enough times about two, though. He knew he had two promises to keep.
John, when we teach the boys to drive, we should do it in my car. I really don't want them in your truck. That thing is gonna kill something one of these days.
Daddy, when I grow up, do I get to have your car? Can I paint it blue stripes?
It's not my car, son. Never was.
When Dean was seventeen, John knew it was time. Time to give him the car, time to let him take over. He had done so well. Learned so much. Taken care of Sam in ways John never could. Sam reminded him so much of Mary...especially when he was solemn, which was most of the time.
Dean had been driving since he was fourteen, but the car belonged to him when he turned seventeen.
He promised.
After he told Dean the car was his, he left the boys there to admire it anew and walked off toward the sunset in search of a park or a field. Somewhere to just be alone.
He never was comfortable in that car without Mary.
He wondered if he'd ever be comfortable again, period.
It wasn't fair to Dean to give him a car and then completely break down and force him to deal with his father's problems like usual.
He found the park. And stayed there until it was dark. Certain that the boys would be safe in that car. Their mother's car.
Dean stood in shock after his dad threw him the keys. Just stood there. He had been driving since he was twelve. He knew he'd eventually get the car, but he didn't know it'd be today.
Then he watched his dad walk away. He didn't really understand. Why didn't he just stay there and help him wash it? Why did he always leave when things got the least bit difficult?
Dean decided that it wasn't the time to blow up at John. It never helped. And besides, his dad just gave him the car.
Dean said "My Impala. My car. My baby. Look at my pretty girl." Out loud until the word "car" ceased to have all meaning.
Then he went inside and grabbed Sammy so they could go for a drive.
Dean always felt so safe in this car. It was the only constant in his life other than Sammy. He felt his mother in this car, the car held his entire life inside its trunk, like it was protecting him and supplying him with all the ammunition he'd ever need.
Dean had a clear and sudden memory of sitting in his mom's lap and pretending to drive while Mary held him and taught him how to beep the horn.
Sammy got out after about an hour, but Dean stayed until it was dark. He wanted to sit there and just feel. He'd never change anything about this car. It was perfect. Even though he'd been in this very car a thousand times before, now it was his. He felt at home in this car. His car. His baby.