New SPN Fic: [ That Dark Before Dawn ]
Jun. 25th, 2006 01:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: That Dark Before Dawn
Pairing: implied Sam/Dean
Spoilers: Not really? Vague reference(s) to Salvation
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Implied incest, but the pairing should've clued to that.
A/N: Many thanks to
janissa11,
liz_w, and
verabell for beta, comments, and conversation about this story. Sunshine, I promise you I'll do a longer John story for you later, m'kay? *hugs you*
Summary: John thinks about his life, and his boys, in the pre-dawn hours before Salvation.
You didn't plan to raise your boys alone. You didn’t plan to raise them as soldiers, but that's what they are: lifetime soldiers who wage a war against evil. A war only a few can see, and fewer still can fight.
You didn't plan to be a soldier forever. When you got out of the Marines, it was with the intention of having a family, owning an auto shop, having a quiet, normal life.
For a little while, but not long enough, you had that. You had Mary, then the boys, and in between you had friends, and a job, and everything was good. John Winchester, livin' the American Dream.
And one night, a night that’s burned into your brain for all eternity, a night you’ll carry scars from for the same, you learned about the things lurking out there in the darkness.
Your life was never the same again.
You didn't plan to raise your boys alone. You didn’t plan to raise them as soldiers, but that's what they are: lifetime soldiers who wage a war against evil. A war only a few can see, and fewer still can fight.
You learned to live a solitary existence, depending on no one but yourself, and later, your sons. Friends were a luxury, one you could seldom afford. Over the years you made a few, but like you, they were warriors, soldiers living in the trenches.
You watched with pride and fear, and no small amount of sorrow as Dean grew into the mold you formed for him, and after him, Sam. They grew up strong, reliable, resourceful, and even when you and Sam went toe-to-toe, shouting at each other, you were proud. Through the pride, though, was fear; fear which increased when Sam started talking about having a normal life, getting away, going to college. You wanted your boys resourceful, but you didn't want them leaving. There was too much out there, too much that could happen.
You were afraid for him, you were afraid for all of you, so you started pushing harder to keep the three of you together. Keep your boys where you could watch them. In the end it backfired, because Sam left without looking back.
It hurt so much it was a physical ache deep inside you; a dark, empty spot that had nothing to do with evil or death, but simple loss, underscored by fear.
You saw that loss echoed in Dean’s eyes every time the two of you finished a job, or settled somewhere for the night, or checked out the local library for research. Every time there should’ve been one more voice, one more smile, one more smart-assed comment or pig-headed refusal. It felt different, though; Dean retreating into himself, though someone watching casually wouldn't have noticed. He still flirted outrageously with anything in a skirt, still walked around with a smart mouth and a cocky attitude, was still spot-on with weapons and watching your back.
It was in his eyes, though. You knew that look; you'd seen it in the mirror every day since Mary passed. A hollow look like part of him had disappeared and was gone forever. You worried for him, but closed your eyes against it because if you examined it too closely you knew you’d see things neither of you wanted you to see. Things no one was supposed to see.
~~~~~
“We’re stronger as a family.”
The words were Dean’s, but you saw them echoed in Sam's eyes.
Four years Sam was gone, and less than a year back with Dean, and they were tighter than they'd ever been; a bond forged in pain, grief, loneliness and love.
The words are echoing in your head now; Dean and Sam's voices twined around each other. There are so many echoes in your head these days you’re not always sure if they’re ones you’re supposed to listen to, or simply a sort of ghost themselves, walking around with unfinished business and a message to pass along.
Dean's right; they're both right. You're wrong. You are stronger together, whether it's two, or all three. What you once saw as a liability, what probably should be a liability, will be your strength instead.
You slip into their room that night, silent, cautious, needing one last look before the battle begins. A father’s benediction of love, a habit formed decades ago. They’re both too old to tuck in any more, or kiss on the forehead, and you miss that. It was taken from you – from all of you – far too soon.
There’s always the chance this last glance will be all you get; that things will be over before you can look at them again, before you can see Dean’s smirk or Sam’s wide, sunny grin, or hear them saying "yes, Sir", dutiful, mocking, or sincere. Sam was always better at layering meaning into those words than Dean was, but Dean was better at settling Sam down than you were.
You won’t see or hear any of that in this darkest of hours, but you can look from one bed to the other, remembering the children they were, and be proud of the men they've become.
You've barely stepped over the threshold of the door when you realize there's not going to be any looking from bed to bed, because they're in the same one, sharing space in a way brothers were never meant to share.
They’re curled against each other, into each other, one of Dean’s arms carelessly – or maybe not – slung over Sam’s waist. Protecting his brother, even in sleep.
You saw this years ago, heard echoes of it in each of their voices and in the silence after Sam left.
Saw it, and closed your eyes against it.
You want to feel disgust; want to shout until they wake up and jump apart. For just a moment you feel hot shame scalding through you--they're your boys, it was your responsibility not only to protect them from the evil in the world, but to guide them, to help them make the right choices. It makes you sad to think you failed them both in this.
But for as sad as it makes you, because this isn't the way things should be, you're glad, too.
Glad because you know, even if you don't make it through the coming battle, neither of them will ever be alone. Like the three of you are stronger as a family, they’ll always be stronger for what they have together, even if it's not what you would have chosen for them.
You don't know how long you stand there silently, watching from the shadows. Long enough to watch Sam move restlessly, body trying to outrun a nightmare. Long enough to watch Dean shift against him, pulling Sam closer to him. Long enough to watch both their faces smooth out into peacefulness again, to see them both relaxed and at ease.
It’ll be morning soon, and time to move on; time to finish things. You take one last look at your boys then slip back out of the room as silently as you entered. The faint light hovering on the eastern horizon turns the sky a soft pink, and it looks -- feels -- almost like hope.
~fin~
Pairing: implied Sam/Dean
Spoilers: Not really? Vague reference(s) to Salvation
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Implied incest, but the pairing should've clued to that.
A/N: Many thanks to
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Summary: John thinks about his life, and his boys, in the pre-dawn hours before Salvation.
You didn't plan to raise your boys alone. You didn’t plan to raise them as soldiers, but that's what they are: lifetime soldiers who wage a war against evil. A war only a few can see, and fewer still can fight.
You didn't plan to be a soldier forever. When you got out of the Marines, it was with the intention of having a family, owning an auto shop, having a quiet, normal life.
For a little while, but not long enough, you had that. You had Mary, then the boys, and in between you had friends, and a job, and everything was good. John Winchester, livin' the American Dream.
And one night, a night that’s burned into your brain for all eternity, a night you’ll carry scars from for the same, you learned about the things lurking out there in the darkness.
Your life was never the same again.
You didn't plan to raise your boys alone. You didn’t plan to raise them as soldiers, but that's what they are: lifetime soldiers who wage a war against evil. A war only a few can see, and fewer still can fight.
You learned to live a solitary existence, depending on no one but yourself, and later, your sons. Friends were a luxury, one you could seldom afford. Over the years you made a few, but like you, they were warriors, soldiers living in the trenches.
You watched with pride and fear, and no small amount of sorrow as Dean grew into the mold you formed for him, and after him, Sam. They grew up strong, reliable, resourceful, and even when you and Sam went toe-to-toe, shouting at each other, you were proud. Through the pride, though, was fear; fear which increased when Sam started talking about having a normal life, getting away, going to college. You wanted your boys resourceful, but you didn't want them leaving. There was too much out there, too much that could happen.
You were afraid for him, you were afraid for all of you, so you started pushing harder to keep the three of you together. Keep your boys where you could watch them. In the end it backfired, because Sam left without looking back.
It hurt so much it was a physical ache deep inside you; a dark, empty spot that had nothing to do with evil or death, but simple loss, underscored by fear.
You saw that loss echoed in Dean’s eyes every time the two of you finished a job, or settled somewhere for the night, or checked out the local library for research. Every time there should’ve been one more voice, one more smile, one more smart-assed comment or pig-headed refusal. It felt different, though; Dean retreating into himself, though someone watching casually wouldn't have noticed. He still flirted outrageously with anything in a skirt, still walked around with a smart mouth and a cocky attitude, was still spot-on with weapons and watching your back.
It was in his eyes, though. You knew that look; you'd seen it in the mirror every day since Mary passed. A hollow look like part of him had disappeared and was gone forever. You worried for him, but closed your eyes against it because if you examined it too closely you knew you’d see things neither of you wanted you to see. Things no one was supposed to see.
“We’re stronger as a family.”
The words were Dean’s, but you saw them echoed in Sam's eyes.
Four years Sam was gone, and less than a year back with Dean, and they were tighter than they'd ever been; a bond forged in pain, grief, loneliness and love.
The words are echoing in your head now; Dean and Sam's voices twined around each other. There are so many echoes in your head these days you’re not always sure if they’re ones you’re supposed to listen to, or simply a sort of ghost themselves, walking around with unfinished business and a message to pass along.
Dean's right; they're both right. You're wrong. You are stronger together, whether it's two, or all three. What you once saw as a liability, what probably should be a liability, will be your strength instead.
You slip into their room that night, silent, cautious, needing one last look before the battle begins. A father’s benediction of love, a habit formed decades ago. They’re both too old to tuck in any more, or kiss on the forehead, and you miss that. It was taken from you – from all of you – far too soon.
There’s always the chance this last glance will be all you get; that things will be over before you can look at them again, before you can see Dean’s smirk or Sam’s wide, sunny grin, or hear them saying "yes, Sir", dutiful, mocking, or sincere. Sam was always better at layering meaning into those words than Dean was, but Dean was better at settling Sam down than you were.
You won’t see or hear any of that in this darkest of hours, but you can look from one bed to the other, remembering the children they were, and be proud of the men they've become.
You've barely stepped over the threshold of the door when you realize there's not going to be any looking from bed to bed, because they're in the same one, sharing space in a way brothers were never meant to share.
They’re curled against each other, into each other, one of Dean’s arms carelessly – or maybe not – slung over Sam’s waist. Protecting his brother, even in sleep.
You saw this years ago, heard echoes of it in each of their voices and in the silence after Sam left.
Saw it, and closed your eyes against it.
You want to feel disgust; want to shout until they wake up and jump apart. For just a moment you feel hot shame scalding through you--they're your boys, it was your responsibility not only to protect them from the evil in the world, but to guide them, to help them make the right choices. It makes you sad to think you failed them both in this.
But for as sad as it makes you, because this isn't the way things should be, you're glad, too.
Glad because you know, even if you don't make it through the coming battle, neither of them will ever be alone. Like the three of you are stronger as a family, they’ll always be stronger for what they have together, even if it's not what you would have chosen for them.
You don't know how long you stand there silently, watching from the shadows. Long enough to watch Sam move restlessly, body trying to outrun a nightmare. Long enough to watch Dean shift against him, pulling Sam closer to him. Long enough to watch both their faces smooth out into peacefulness again, to see them both relaxed and at ease.
It’ll be morning soon, and time to move on; time to finish things. You take one last look at your boys then slip back out of the room as silently as you entered. The faint light hovering on the eastern horizon turns the sky a soft pink, and it looks -- feels -- almost like hope.
~fin~
no subject
Date: 2006-06-25 05:52 am (UTC)I do like your take on his take of discovering (what he'd really long known) the boys' relationship.
Dean's right; they're both right. You're wrong. You are stronger together, whether it's two, or all three. What you once saw as a liability, what probably should be a liability, will be your strength instead.
Hmm. Yes. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-06-25 03:16 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-06-25 06:03 am (UTC)You've barely stepped over the threshold of the door when you realize there's not going to be any looking from bed to bed, because they're in the same one, sharing space in a way brothers were never meant to share.
I like the way you've been able to portray the shock and the gradual, reluctant acceptance in this. :D Very nice indeed. Thanks for sharing!
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Date: 2006-07-23 02:09 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-06-25 03:00 pm (UTC)Thanks! This is lovely!
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Date: 2006-07-23 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-07-23 02:28 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comments :) I apologize for being so late in responding.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-26 01:53 pm (UTC)Yay you posted! You already know how much I loved this story. You got a lot of emotional ground covered in a seamless way that read to me as very true to John's character.
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 02:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-06-26 04:52 pm (UTC)It was nice to see their lives through John's point of view, how he wanted everything to be different and how his views have changed.
I think you handled him finding out about Sam and Dean's deeper relationship really well. You can't expect him to react like a normal father because they've barely led a normal life.
Bravo ^.^
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Date: 2006-07-23 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-06-27 07:48 am (UTC)Once again, you have amazed me with your fic writing skillz. (Like remember with the Emerald Cove fic? Goodness gracious me, I still love you for that.)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 02:40 pm (UTC)