fic: The naked floor reminds me (Supernatural; Sam and Dean)
This one ended up all story-like. *g*
The naked floor reminds me
Supernatural; Sam and Dean; 1,450 words
Top Five Memories Sam has of growing up with Dean: the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. For flyakate
~*~
The naked floor reminds me
1.
Dean has always existed. Sam can't remember a time he wasn't there, all talk and motion--You okay, Sammy? Why don't you go to sleep now, Sammy? You gonna eat that, Sammy?--so it's hard to imagine there was ever a world without him, though when he gets older, he knows there must have been--thousands of years of human history completely empty of Dean Winchester and his restless energy. Sam doesn't like to think about it.
His earliest memory is of Dean, of course. He remembers the two of them huddled in a bed somewhere, fort made of pillows keeping bad things out, salt on the doorways and window ledges, and Dad in the other room with the TV on low. It is warm and safe, and he's falling asleep with his head on Dean's arm; Dean smells like Ivory soap and laundry detergent.
Dean is reading in a low voice, fingers cradling the book gently, because it's old and falling apart from being read every night, but at four, it is still Sam's favorite.
"Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away," Dean reads. "So he said to his mother, 'I am running away.' 'If you run away,' said his mother, 'I will run after you. For you are my little bunny.'"
He worries, because they don't have a mommy to come after them. It must show on his face, because Dean puts an arm around his shoulders and squeezes tight. "Don't worry, Sammy. If you run away, I'll always come after you. If you get lost, I'll always bring you home."
At four, Sam believed him. At twenty-four, he still does.
*
2.
When Sam was six or seven, Dad signed him up for the kiddie soccer league in the town they were living in--said it would help with his dexterity and footwork (it took him forever to grow into his feet; he was always tripping over them). Every week, there was a game, and every week, one of the parents would bring orange slices for the team to eat during breaks. The week it was Sam's turn, he panicked and forgot, and didn't remember until they were already at the field.
Dad tried to calm him down, crouched in the damp grass, one heavy hand on Sam's shoulder, voice low and rumbling as he said it didn't matter, it was an honest mistake. Nobody would blame Sam for it, so stop crying and get out there and play.
Sam didn't believe it, but he tried to stop crying because he wanted to make his father and Dean proud. He ran up and down the field with the other kids and tried not to think about what would happen at halftime when there were no orange slices for the team and everyone would hate him.
He lagged behind everyone else when the coach called them back to the sidelines, everything blurry from the tears already in his eyes, waiting to fall when everyone found out he'd messed up.
But when he got to the sidelines, Dean was there with a plastic bag from Stop and Shop, and every kid on the team was sucking on an orange slice, and everything was okay.
To this day, the scent of oranges reminds him that Dean always comes through in the clutch.
*
3.
Dean notches his first solo kill at thirteen--a Black Dog attacking people at a crossroads somewhere outside of Nashville. He took it down with silver rounds from the shotgun Dad bought him for his birthday that year. He comes home covered in blood (mostly the dog's) and mud, cocky grin on his face. As he kicks off his muddy boots, he describes the fight in great detail to Sam and Pastor Jim, who ruffles his hair and sends him off to shower.
Sam hears bits and pieces of Pastor Jim's conversation with Dad, about how he's not sure taking Dean hunting so young is such a good idea, and Dad's answer that his sons will be prepared to deal with whatever shit the world flings at them. Sam tunes them out, because they have this discussion all the time, and it never changes.
Instead, he follows Dean back to the bathroom, knowing Dean will want to tell him all about it again (and again and again--it's not that Dean's a braggart, necessarily, so much as they don't have anyone else they can tell, and it is a good story).
The door is slightly open, and he can see Dean kneeling on the tile, throwing up his guts into the toilet. He sounds like he's crying.
Sam freezes. He knows if it was him, Dean or Dad would rush in, wrap their arms around him, brush his hair off his forehead and pour enough water down his throat that he'd feel like he was drowning. But this is Dean, and Dean doesn't get sick. Dean doesn't cry.
Sam stands there and stares, shocked, until Dean heaves himself up off the floor slowly, like he's a hundred years old or a thousand pounds heavy. Then he runs into the bedroom, so Dean won't know he was watching.
He never mentions it.
*
4.
When Sam is sixteen, he has a massive crush on a girl named Vera Lopez. Vera is nearly as tall as he is, with long black hair and legs that go on for days. Sam finally works up the nerve to talk to her, and it's going pretty well, when he hears the rumble of a familiar engine. Vera's gaze slides away from him, and when Dean yells, "Yo, Sammy, I don't have all day," it flicks back to him, calculating now.
"You know him?" she asks breathlessly.
"He's my brother."
"Cool."
Sam snorts. "Not really."
He gets up and walks away, anger and embarrassment burning low in his belly. His whole life, he's never hated Dean as much as he does at that moment.
*
5.
"Dean, I--"
Dean reaches out and turns up the volume. The music is so loud Sam's heart is beating in time with Lars's drums and Jason's bass, and he thinks he might start bleeding from the ears if Dean doesn't turn the music down soon.
Since Dean doesn't do it, Sam has to.
He can see the muscle in Dean's jaw spasming from being clenched so tightly, and he knows nothing he can say will make this any better, but he keeps trying.
"I have to do this, Dean. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and it's what I've always wanted." He shifts uncomfortably.
"What you want, Sammy, that's right. It's always about what you want, you selfish little prick." Dean spits the words out like curses, like bullets, but Sam pretends he's bulletproof.
"I'm the selfish one? I'm not the one who dragged his kids across the country on some crazy quest for vengeance--"
"You want to watch what you say in this car, Sammy."
"You're just as bad as he is, and you know what? You don't have to be. You have a choice, a chance to get out and have your own life, and maybe you're too stupid to take it, I don't know, but I'm not."
Dean doesn't answer, and Sam feels kind of bad about what he said, but he can't keep it inside anymore. Dean may be willing to sacrifice himself to Dad's insanity, but he's not. And it's not like he's coming back now. Not after what Dad said to him.
He'll never admit it, but he'd kind of hoped Dean would come with him, get an apartment in Palo Alto somewhere, maybe get a real job, have a real life.
They roll to a stop at the bus station, and Dean turns the radio off. The sudden silence is shocking.
Dean swallows and says, "You take care of yourself, Sammy, and you call me if you get in any trouble. Dad'll come around--"
"He won't."
"Shut up. Dad'll come around soon enough--"
"He won't. And even if he does, I won't."
Dean finally looks at him then. "And you're supposed to be the smart one." He shakes his head. "Go. You'll miss your bus otherwise, and then you'll really look like a moron."
Sam grabs his bag from the backseat and turns back to Dean. "Dean, I--"
"Go, Sammy. Do good. And call me if you need me."
Sam gets out and walks into the bus station. He turns back only once, looks through the grimy glass of the doors swinging shut behind him, to see Dean watching, the look on his face indecipherable.
It takes Sam nearly three years to figure out that it was loneliness and fear, and he never forgets it.
end
*
Title from "Seasons" by Chris Cornell, which happens to be playing right now. *g* The book Dean is reading is, of course, The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown.
*
09/04/06
*
Feedback is adored.
*
The naked floor reminds me
Supernatural; Sam and Dean; 1,450 words
Top Five Memories Sam has of growing up with Dean: the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. For flyakate
~*~
The naked floor reminds me
1.
Dean has always existed. Sam can't remember a time he wasn't there, all talk and motion--You okay, Sammy? Why don't you go to sleep now, Sammy? You gonna eat that, Sammy?--so it's hard to imagine there was ever a world without him, though when he gets older, he knows there must have been--thousands of years of human history completely empty of Dean Winchester and his restless energy. Sam doesn't like to think about it.
His earliest memory is of Dean, of course. He remembers the two of them huddled in a bed somewhere, fort made of pillows keeping bad things out, salt on the doorways and window ledges, and Dad in the other room with the TV on low. It is warm and safe, and he's falling asleep with his head on Dean's arm; Dean smells like Ivory soap and laundry detergent.
Dean is reading in a low voice, fingers cradling the book gently, because it's old and falling apart from being read every night, but at four, it is still Sam's favorite.
"Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away," Dean reads. "So he said to his mother, 'I am running away.' 'If you run away,' said his mother, 'I will run after you. For you are my little bunny.'"
He worries, because they don't have a mommy to come after them. It must show on his face, because Dean puts an arm around his shoulders and squeezes tight. "Don't worry, Sammy. If you run away, I'll always come after you. If you get lost, I'll always bring you home."
At four, Sam believed him. At twenty-four, he still does.
*
2.
When Sam was six or seven, Dad signed him up for the kiddie soccer league in the town they were living in--said it would help with his dexterity and footwork (it took him forever to grow into his feet; he was always tripping over them). Every week, there was a game, and every week, one of the parents would bring orange slices for the team to eat during breaks. The week it was Sam's turn, he panicked and forgot, and didn't remember until they were already at the field.
Dad tried to calm him down, crouched in the damp grass, one heavy hand on Sam's shoulder, voice low and rumbling as he said it didn't matter, it was an honest mistake. Nobody would blame Sam for it, so stop crying and get out there and play.
Sam didn't believe it, but he tried to stop crying because he wanted to make his father and Dean proud. He ran up and down the field with the other kids and tried not to think about what would happen at halftime when there were no orange slices for the team and everyone would hate him.
He lagged behind everyone else when the coach called them back to the sidelines, everything blurry from the tears already in his eyes, waiting to fall when everyone found out he'd messed up.
But when he got to the sidelines, Dean was there with a plastic bag from Stop and Shop, and every kid on the team was sucking on an orange slice, and everything was okay.
To this day, the scent of oranges reminds him that Dean always comes through in the clutch.
*
3.
Dean notches his first solo kill at thirteen--a Black Dog attacking people at a crossroads somewhere outside of Nashville. He took it down with silver rounds from the shotgun Dad bought him for his birthday that year. He comes home covered in blood (mostly the dog's) and mud, cocky grin on his face. As he kicks off his muddy boots, he describes the fight in great detail to Sam and Pastor Jim, who ruffles his hair and sends him off to shower.
Sam hears bits and pieces of Pastor Jim's conversation with Dad, about how he's not sure taking Dean hunting so young is such a good idea, and Dad's answer that his sons will be prepared to deal with whatever shit the world flings at them. Sam tunes them out, because they have this discussion all the time, and it never changes.
Instead, he follows Dean back to the bathroom, knowing Dean will want to tell him all about it again (and again and again--it's not that Dean's a braggart, necessarily, so much as they don't have anyone else they can tell, and it is a good story).
The door is slightly open, and he can see Dean kneeling on the tile, throwing up his guts into the toilet. He sounds like he's crying.
Sam freezes. He knows if it was him, Dean or Dad would rush in, wrap their arms around him, brush his hair off his forehead and pour enough water down his throat that he'd feel like he was drowning. But this is Dean, and Dean doesn't get sick. Dean doesn't cry.
Sam stands there and stares, shocked, until Dean heaves himself up off the floor slowly, like he's a hundred years old or a thousand pounds heavy. Then he runs into the bedroom, so Dean won't know he was watching.
He never mentions it.
*
4.
When Sam is sixteen, he has a massive crush on a girl named Vera Lopez. Vera is nearly as tall as he is, with long black hair and legs that go on for days. Sam finally works up the nerve to talk to her, and it's going pretty well, when he hears the rumble of a familiar engine. Vera's gaze slides away from him, and when Dean yells, "Yo, Sammy, I don't have all day," it flicks back to him, calculating now.
"You know him?" she asks breathlessly.
"He's my brother."
"Cool."
Sam snorts. "Not really."
He gets up and walks away, anger and embarrassment burning low in his belly. His whole life, he's never hated Dean as much as he does at that moment.
*
5.
"Dean, I--"
Dean reaches out and turns up the volume. The music is so loud Sam's heart is beating in time with Lars's drums and Jason's bass, and he thinks he might start bleeding from the ears if Dean doesn't turn the music down soon.
Since Dean doesn't do it, Sam has to.
He can see the muscle in Dean's jaw spasming from being clenched so tightly, and he knows nothing he can say will make this any better, but he keeps trying.
"I have to do this, Dean. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and it's what I've always wanted." He shifts uncomfortably.
"What you want, Sammy, that's right. It's always about what you want, you selfish little prick." Dean spits the words out like curses, like bullets, but Sam pretends he's bulletproof.
"I'm the selfish one? I'm not the one who dragged his kids across the country on some crazy quest for vengeance--"
"You want to watch what you say in this car, Sammy."
"You're just as bad as he is, and you know what? You don't have to be. You have a choice, a chance to get out and have your own life, and maybe you're too stupid to take it, I don't know, but I'm not."
Dean doesn't answer, and Sam feels kind of bad about what he said, but he can't keep it inside anymore. Dean may be willing to sacrifice himself to Dad's insanity, but he's not. And it's not like he's coming back now. Not after what Dad said to him.
He'll never admit it, but he'd kind of hoped Dean would come with him, get an apartment in Palo Alto somewhere, maybe get a real job, have a real life.
They roll to a stop at the bus station, and Dean turns the radio off. The sudden silence is shocking.
Dean swallows and says, "You take care of yourself, Sammy, and you call me if you get in any trouble. Dad'll come around--"
"He won't."
"Shut up. Dad'll come around soon enough--"
"He won't. And even if he does, I won't."
Dean finally looks at him then. "And you're supposed to be the smart one." He shakes his head. "Go. You'll miss your bus otherwise, and then you'll really look like a moron."
Sam grabs his bag from the backseat and turns back to Dean. "Dean, I--"
"Go, Sammy. Do good. And call me if you need me."
Sam gets out and walks into the bus station. He turns back only once, looks through the grimy glass of the doors swinging shut behind him, to see Dean watching, the look on his face indecipherable.
It takes Sam nearly three years to figure out that it was loneliness and fear, and he never forgets it.
end
*
Title from "Seasons" by Chris Cornell, which happens to be playing right now. *g* The book Dean is reading is, of course, The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown.
*
09/04/06
*
Feedback is adored.
*