Socket, Valve, Heart
Summary: Sam works himself into a corner on the Impala.
Category: Generic character story. Oneshot.
Timeline: Coda for Fresh Blood (3.07)
Characters: Sam & Dean
Wordcount: 341
Rating: PG
Written: Nov. 18th, 2007
Prompt: from
15_minute_fic: 'Wave'. It must be written within 15 minutes and posted after checking for grammar, spelling and punctuation only, no editing.
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There was a moment when the metal of the screwdriver clanged against the side of the car and made Sam wince, made him wonder what Dean was thinking right now as he lipped his beer bottle and blew into it like a ship's horn. There wasn't much daylight left out here. The railroad service drive didn't seem like a great place for taking this thing apart when there wasn't going to be enough light to put it back together. What was Dean thinking?
His arm was getting sore. He had pulled the valve-cover off and taken the wires and spark plugs out, sprayed the intake with carb cleaner. Checked the cap, pulled the wires together and held them tight in his fist, staring at the engine. He knew they were numbered, but he wouldn't remember where they were supposed to go back now. What order did these go in? Why did he feel so uncomfortable asking? Why was Dean completely ignoring him?
Sam shifted his weight back and forth on each leg, leaned one knee against the bumper. The wind kicked up and blew his towels off the frame and into the street, billowing in the gusts, sailing away without pause, a final wave. Something rose in Sam's throat and choked him. He leaned both arms on the strut tower bar and pulled in a ragged breath, then another. His head was swimming and then his eyes were wet. He heard the crunch of gravel underneath Dean's feet as they scraped at the earth, heard soft footfalls, felt the warm touch of his brother's hand on his, gentle. Wordlessly, he lifted Sam's fingers out of their white-knuckled grip and took the screwdriver, aligned their bodies so their sides, legs, arms were touching, never looking him in the eye.
"Sammy, look here," he pointed with the handle end of the tool, tapped the side of the manifold, "you got it. Put the ignition coil on the distributor first. The wires are numbered alternatingly. This is the odd side here we're working on..."
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ETA: I really did write this in 15 minutes with somebody's clove cigarette vapors haunting my sanity. My greasemonkey hubbie just helped me do some word replacement based on what they ended up working on in the story (and since I am about as useful as Sammy in some situations). The story is the same but for a real gearhead it will hopefully make sense now. ;) eHow: Replacing spark plug wires. Reading this will tell you why they were out there in the twilight.
son of ETA: If you would like a continuation, I suggest Breathing Lessons by bardicvoice. It's quiet and beautiful.
grandson of ETA: I also wrote a companion piece that's twice as long because what was Dean thinking? Well, he isn't poetic and he rambles in his head, but it's Everything.
Category: Generic character story. Oneshot.
Timeline: Coda for Fresh Blood (3.07)
Characters: Sam & Dean
Wordcount: 341
Rating: PG
Written: Nov. 18th, 2007
Prompt: from
15_minute_fic: 'Wave'. It must be written within 15 minutes and posted after checking for grammar, spelling and punctuation only, no editing.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
There was a moment when the metal of the screwdriver clanged against the side of the car and made Sam wince, made him wonder what Dean was thinking right now as he lipped his beer bottle and blew into it like a ship's horn. There wasn't much daylight left out here. The railroad service drive didn't seem like a great place for taking this thing apart when there wasn't going to be enough light to put it back together. What was Dean thinking?
His arm was getting sore. He had pulled the valve-cover off and taken the wires and spark plugs out, sprayed the intake with carb cleaner. Checked the cap, pulled the wires together and held them tight in his fist, staring at the engine. He knew they were numbered, but he wouldn't remember where they were supposed to go back now. What order did these go in? Why did he feel so uncomfortable asking? Why was Dean completely ignoring him?
Sam shifted his weight back and forth on each leg, leaned one knee against the bumper. The wind kicked up and blew his towels off the frame and into the street, billowing in the gusts, sailing away without pause, a final wave. Something rose in Sam's throat and choked him. He leaned both arms on the strut tower bar and pulled in a ragged breath, then another. His head was swimming and then his eyes were wet. He heard the crunch of gravel underneath Dean's feet as they scraped at the earth, heard soft footfalls, felt the warm touch of his brother's hand on his, gentle. Wordlessly, he lifted Sam's fingers out of their white-knuckled grip and took the screwdriver, aligned their bodies so their sides, legs, arms were touching, never looking him in the eye.
"Sammy, look here," he pointed with the handle end of the tool, tapped the side of the manifold, "you got it. Put the ignition coil on the distributor first. The wires are numbered alternatingly. This is the odd side here we're working on..."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
ETA: I really did write this in 15 minutes with somebody's clove cigarette vapors haunting my sanity. My greasemonkey hubbie just helped me do some word replacement based on what they ended up working on in the story (and since I am about as useful as Sammy in some situations). The story is the same but for a real gearhead it will hopefully make sense now. ;) eHow: Replacing spark plug wires. Reading this will tell you why they were out there in the twilight.
son of ETA: If you would like a continuation, I suggest Breathing Lessons by bardicvoice. It's quiet and beautiful.
grandson of ETA: I also wrote a companion piece that's twice as long because what was Dean thinking? Well, he isn't poetic and he rambles in his head, but it's Everything.