Fic: Your time is gunna come (11.08 episode tag)
So, so late to the 11.08 party! For RL related reasons I only got to see the ep Monday night and have just had time to write a tag now! I haven't seen 11.09 yet...I get the impression, though, that it was a doozy.
So, on the offchance that anyone hasn't had 11.08 completely blown out of their head by now, here is my tag.
I really, really liked this episode and I'd love to see the Zanna again. :D
Also if anyone hasn't yet read frozen_delight's 11.08 coda Peter Pan, please do so. It's wonderful; chock full of brotherly feels!
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Title: Your time is gunna come
Author: zara_zee
Beta: Not beta’d
Genre(s): Episode coda. Outsider POV.
Rating: PG-13, Gen
Spoilers: Episode 11.08
Word Count: ~700
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sand box.
Summary: Weems looks down at the skeletal guitar player on his blood-stained tee and tries not to read too much into the tee-shirt’s words: Your time is gunna come.
In which Weems reflects on the Hunters he just met.
--
Weems is sad. And he’s angry. His gut aches, not from the pain of his stabbing, but with a loss he doesn’t know how to process. Zanna don’t die easy. Weems has never known a Zanna who’s died before.
This is probably how Fletcher felt when his daddy was killed in that drive-by shooting. Weems aches with new understanding for his charge.
He thinks of Nicky. Of her smile. Her kindness. Her utter dedication to her kids. Poor little Zoe. She’s going to be devastated.
At least Sully had the Hunters bury Nicky, so Zoe won’t have to deal with the same horror that Sparkle’s Maddy had to face. She’s going to need all of the shrinks, that one.
Weems loved Nicky as much as he is capable of loving anyone who isn’t one of his charges. He wants to go to her grave. To say goodbye. But Fletcher needs him.
It’s been tough year for the kid and Weems is so, so grateful that Fletcher doesn’t have to face losing his only friend too.
Weems presses a hand against his wound and makes a mental note to flash back to HQ before Fletcher wakes up and pick up a clean tee-shirt. He looks down at the skeletal guitar player on his blood-stained tee and tries not to read too much into the tee-shirt’s words: Your time is gunna come. The words are meant to remind Fletcher that one day he’ll have life’s reins in his hands; that he won’t always be reliant on a depressed, alcoholic mommy. But it’s also a reminder that Zanna aren’t immortal.
Weems looks fondly at the curly-haired little cherub sleeping soundly in his clean, dry sheets.
With nothing to do until Fletcher wakes up, Weems leans back against the kid’s bed, legs outstretched, feet crossed at the ankles, and reflects on the Hunters he just met.
He’s heard of Sam, of course. Sully’s biggest failure. Not that he strikes Weems as a failure. Sam is good looking. In good shape. And he seems…not happy… Weems can’t honestly say he seems happy, but he does seem content; as if he’s made his peace with his lot in life. There’s a certain Zen quality about him that makes Weems’s fingers tingle with the need to channel Jimmy Page. Stairway to Heaven is definitely on the soundtrack of Sam’s life, which is kind of ironic considering where he’s been.
Yeah, when Zanna keep track of their kids they don’t let a little thing like said kid being in a Hell dimension stop them.
Hell’s fingerprints are all over the other one too. Dean, Sully called him.
To be honest, Weems isn’t quite sure why Dean didn’t get an imaginary friend as a child too. Maybe he was less lonely when he was a kid? Less depressed?
Weems remembers hearing Sam’s story from Sully, remembers that Dean lost his mom to a demon at four years old. Maybe by the time a Zanna Guide could have been of some help, Dean was too suspicious of the supernatural for a connection to be made. Poor Dean. Weems can still see the lonely, scared four-year-old trapped deep inside him, hidden under layers of sarcasm, machismo and bravado. He smiles softly as he imagines the fun he and Dean could’ve had playing air guitar together.
One thing’s for sure, if Dean’d had a Zanna Guide as a kid, Weems sure would be suggesting a tune up. Dean needs one. He needs someone to help him shoulder his load; to tell him that he’s awesome. He desperately needs someone to tell him that he can be anything he wants; that his time is gonna come; that there will be peace when he is done.
Weems glances up at Fletcher again, so young and innocent in sleep, but Weems can already see the hard shell forming. He thinks that his young charge has a lot in common with Dean. But hey, at least he’s got Weems to help carry his burdens.
Weems thinks he might keep an eye on Dean Winchester, like Sully keeps an eye on Sam. It’s the least he can do for a fellow Clapton fan. And maybe, at some point, a time will come when he can be of some help.
--
So, on the offchance that anyone hasn't had 11.08 completely blown out of their head by now, here is my tag.
I really, really liked this episode and I'd love to see the Zanna again. :D
Also if anyone hasn't yet read frozen_delight's 11.08 coda Peter Pan, please do so. It's wonderful; chock full of brotherly feels!
--
Title: Your time is gunna come
Author: zara_zee
Beta: Not beta’d
Genre(s): Episode coda. Outsider POV.
Rating: PG-13, Gen
Spoilers: Episode 11.08
Word Count: ~700
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing in the sand box.
Summary: Weems looks down at the skeletal guitar player on his blood-stained tee and tries not to read too much into the tee-shirt’s words: Your time is gunna come.
In which Weems reflects on the Hunters he just met.
--
Weems is sad. And he’s angry. His gut aches, not from the pain of his stabbing, but with a loss he doesn’t know how to process. Zanna don’t die easy. Weems has never known a Zanna who’s died before.
This is probably how Fletcher felt when his daddy was killed in that drive-by shooting. Weems aches with new understanding for his charge.
He thinks of Nicky. Of her smile. Her kindness. Her utter dedication to her kids. Poor little Zoe. She’s going to be devastated.
At least Sully had the Hunters bury Nicky, so Zoe won’t have to deal with the same horror that Sparkle’s Maddy had to face. She’s going to need all of the shrinks, that one.
Weems loved Nicky as much as he is capable of loving anyone who isn’t one of his charges. He wants to go to her grave. To say goodbye. But Fletcher needs him.
It’s been tough year for the kid and Weems is so, so grateful that Fletcher doesn’t have to face losing his only friend too.
Weems presses a hand against his wound and makes a mental note to flash back to HQ before Fletcher wakes up and pick up a clean tee-shirt. He looks down at the skeletal guitar player on his blood-stained tee and tries not to read too much into the tee-shirt’s words: Your time is gunna come. The words are meant to remind Fletcher that one day he’ll have life’s reins in his hands; that he won’t always be reliant on a depressed, alcoholic mommy. But it’s also a reminder that Zanna aren’t immortal.
Weems looks fondly at the curly-haired little cherub sleeping soundly in his clean, dry sheets.
With nothing to do until Fletcher wakes up, Weems leans back against the kid’s bed, legs outstretched, feet crossed at the ankles, and reflects on the Hunters he just met.
He’s heard of Sam, of course. Sully’s biggest failure. Not that he strikes Weems as a failure. Sam is good looking. In good shape. And he seems…not happy… Weems can’t honestly say he seems happy, but he does seem content; as if he’s made his peace with his lot in life. There’s a certain Zen quality about him that makes Weems’s fingers tingle with the need to channel Jimmy Page. Stairway to Heaven is definitely on the soundtrack of Sam’s life, which is kind of ironic considering where he’s been.
Yeah, when Zanna keep track of their kids they don’t let a little thing like said kid being in a Hell dimension stop them.
Hell’s fingerprints are all over the other one too. Dean, Sully called him.
To be honest, Weems isn’t quite sure why Dean didn’t get an imaginary friend as a child too. Maybe he was less lonely when he was a kid? Less depressed?
Weems remembers hearing Sam’s story from Sully, remembers that Dean lost his mom to a demon at four years old. Maybe by the time a Zanna Guide could have been of some help, Dean was too suspicious of the supernatural for a connection to be made. Poor Dean. Weems can still see the lonely, scared four-year-old trapped deep inside him, hidden under layers of sarcasm, machismo and bravado. He smiles softly as he imagines the fun he and Dean could’ve had playing air guitar together.
One thing’s for sure, if Dean’d had a Zanna Guide as a kid, Weems sure would be suggesting a tune up. Dean needs one. He needs someone to help him shoulder his load; to tell him that he’s awesome. He desperately needs someone to tell him that he can be anything he wants; that his time is gonna come; that there will be peace when he is done.
Weems glances up at Fletcher again, so young and innocent in sleep, but Weems can already see the hard shell forming. He thinks that his young charge has a lot in common with Dean. But hey, at least he’s got Weems to help carry his burdens.
Weems thinks he might keep an eye on Dean Winchester, like Sully keeps an eye on Sam. It’s the least he can do for a fellow Clapton fan. And maybe, at some point, a time will come when he can be of some help.
--