Speaker - SN fic
Title: Speaker
Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for season 1; could be start of season 2: up to you
Pairings: none
Wordcount: 504
Rating: PG
Point of view: third
Notes: Basically, I had an idea and then realized, “Hey, the show’s doing this!” So, take it however.
Part 1: Listener
Sam never appreciated Dean till he didn’t have him anymore.
-
The first month at Stanford, Sam only talked to teachers. He threw himself into school with a fervor, determined to forget what he’d left behind.
But then a petite brunette named Ann asked for help in the library and he realized he still knew how to speak.
-
Ann welcomed him into her circle of friends with a smile. Dave, Jake, Sara, Karen, Jolene, and Will weren’t like anyone he’d ever had the time to know and he reveled in it.
Every now and then his thoughts meandered to who he left behind, but he had a life now. The life he’d always wanted.
He spoke the least of them, but he knew how to listen. By the end of his sixth month at Stanford, he knew most everything about Ann and her friends. But they didn’t know anything about him. They thought they did, but he’d long since mastered the lie.
-
After Jessica and the fire and resuming the hunt, Sam stopped talking. Dean tried to get him to open up, but he steadfastly refused. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the words-his mind whirled with questions and demands, but his lips wouldn’t form them.
And finally, Dean fell silent. He waited one night till Sam hovered on the edge of sleep and said softly, “I’ll listen, Sam. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”
-
Sam knew he was lucky. Incredibly lucky beyond belief. Very few people were given such gifts in their lives.
He had intelligence and strength. He was reasonably attractive. He could fight and shoot a gun and throw knives. He could speak five languages and read half a dozen more.
And now suddenly he could dream the future and move things with his mind.
But, Sam knew, the greatest gift he’d ever been given was before he’d even been born: Dean.
-
Dean always listened. Whatever Sam had to say, Dean listened. He never judged or downplayed Sam’s words. He never told Sam he was wrong to feel that way or think that.
He might not understand but he tried, and Sam couldn’t ask for more than that.
Dean listened. No matter what Sam had to say. He never told Sam what to do, only let Sam know he’d stand beside him, come what may.
Dean didn’t need words, not like Sam did. He could look below the surface and see the truth. With a glance or touch he conveyed whole conversations. Sam always envied that about him.
And now…
-
Sam never thought about Dean as small. He was Dean. Invincible, forever, gigantic…
Even after the heart-attack, he never seemed little. Resigned and weary, but not small.
But he lies in the hospital bed and he doesn’t move and he seems tiny. Like slowly, he’s pulling away, letting go. If Sam looks away, he’s terrified he’ll look back and Dean will be fully gone.
Dean always listened. So now Sam speaks and he won’t shut up until Dean responds.
Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for season 1; could be start of season 2: up to you
Pairings: none
Wordcount: 504
Rating: PG
Point of view: third
Notes: Basically, I had an idea and then realized, “Hey, the show’s doing this!” So, take it however.
Part 1: Listener
Sam never appreciated Dean till he didn’t have him anymore.
-
The first month at Stanford, Sam only talked to teachers. He threw himself into school with a fervor, determined to forget what he’d left behind.
But then a petite brunette named Ann asked for help in the library and he realized he still knew how to speak.
-
Ann welcomed him into her circle of friends with a smile. Dave, Jake, Sara, Karen, Jolene, and Will weren’t like anyone he’d ever had the time to know and he reveled in it.
Every now and then his thoughts meandered to who he left behind, but he had a life now. The life he’d always wanted.
He spoke the least of them, but he knew how to listen. By the end of his sixth month at Stanford, he knew most everything about Ann and her friends. But they didn’t know anything about him. They thought they did, but he’d long since mastered the lie.
-
After Jessica and the fire and resuming the hunt, Sam stopped talking. Dean tried to get him to open up, but he steadfastly refused. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the words-his mind whirled with questions and demands, but his lips wouldn’t form them.
And finally, Dean fell silent. He waited one night till Sam hovered on the edge of sleep and said softly, “I’ll listen, Sam. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”
-
Sam knew he was lucky. Incredibly lucky beyond belief. Very few people were given such gifts in their lives.
He had intelligence and strength. He was reasonably attractive. He could fight and shoot a gun and throw knives. He could speak five languages and read half a dozen more.
And now suddenly he could dream the future and move things with his mind.
But, Sam knew, the greatest gift he’d ever been given was before he’d even been born: Dean.
-
Dean always listened. Whatever Sam had to say, Dean listened. He never judged or downplayed Sam’s words. He never told Sam he was wrong to feel that way or think that.
He might not understand but he tried, and Sam couldn’t ask for more than that.
Dean listened. No matter what Sam had to say. He never told Sam what to do, only let Sam know he’d stand beside him, come what may.
Dean didn’t need words, not like Sam did. He could look below the surface and see the truth. With a glance or touch he conveyed whole conversations. Sam always envied that about him.
And now…
-
Sam never thought about Dean as small. He was Dean. Invincible, forever, gigantic…
Even after the heart-attack, he never seemed little. Resigned and weary, but not small.
But he lies in the hospital bed and he doesn’t move and he seems tiny. Like slowly, he’s pulling away, letting go. If Sam looks away, he’s terrified he’ll look back and Dean will be fully gone.
Dean always listened. So now Sam speaks and he won’t shut up until Dean responds.