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mickeymTitle: By Any Definition
Author: Mickey M.
Pairing: implied Sam/Dean
Word Count: ~950
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: Non-graphic incest, vague references to events from the pilot, and IMToD
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made.
Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
raynedanser for beta-on-the-fly. Originally done for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spnflashfic challenge, prompt "Housing".
Summary: Sam figures out the definition of home.
Sam's never had a home that he can remember that wasn't borrowed or temporary, or just wishful thinking.
He has no experience with the scent of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, or cheerful curtains fluttering over the kitchen sink; no memory of Saturday morning chores or lugging a trash can down to the curb for pick-up day, or mowing the lawn on lazy summer afternoons.
Sometimes he feels rootless, like there's nothing holding him to this earth. Like a good, stiff breeze could pluck him up and blow him away, leaving nothing behind but the vaguest of memories of him. Those days or moments, Sam envies Dean, with his memories of mom and dad, and a house that belonged to them; cozy space where he could spread out toys and belongings and never, ever fear those things that lurk in the dark, watching and waiting.
Other days, though, Sam thinks of what he has that so many don't -- and never will.
He has a big brother who, while annoying as all-get-out, will do anything for him whether it's help him with a book report or sneak him sips of beer when their dad isn't looking. Who will sit with him after nightmares pull him gasping and shouting out of sleep, and hold him until his breathing evens out and he can settle again. Who will pull punches when they're sparring, when he knows Sam is still tired and sore from the fight after school that their dad doesn't know about.
Sam doesn't have memories of chocolate chip cookies, but he does have memories of Dean curled up behind him, breath warm against Sam's neck, while the two of them stretch out along the backseat of the Impala during one of countless cross-country hunting trips. He has memories of hands that can inflict deadly damage holding him, soothing him, patching up dozens of scrapes and cuts. Memories of a mouth that can twist into a smirk or a frown smiling at him, then kissing assorted bruises or cuts so they would get better, faster.
Sam grows up (and up and up and up) with Dean being his touchstone, his best friend, his mother and father and brother all rolled in to one. He loves their dad, but dad is an untouchable; a presence that drifts in and out of their lives at the whim of whatever hunt he's pursuing. John Winchester lives for revenge, but not for his boys.
~~~~~
Jess decorates their apartment with bright colors and clutter that fills and overflows tables, bookshelves, even floor space. She bakes cookies and brownies, and sometimes, meatloaf.
When Sam bangs his head on the cupboard door, leaving a purpling mark rising on his forehead, she ices it and then kisses it better.
They have the same address for the two years they live together, and Sam knows that the white picket fence isn't just a dream dangling out of reach. They can have it; have a home that's filled with laughter and tears and children's voices, and a dog barking whenever someone knocks on the door.
Losing Jess leaves a hole inside of Sam that he doesn't believe can ever be filled, ripping away the facade of 'home' he'd started to build and allow himself to believe in.
~~~~~
Things have changed, but they haven't. Dean is still the biggest pain-in-the-ass Sam can imagine, but he throws himself in between Sam and danger at every opportunity, and patches him up and brings him coffee and annoys Sam with stupid jokes and pranks until Sam smiles in spite of himself.
Dean is loud, and obnoxious, and so determined not to encourage 'chick-flick moments' that he sometimes shuts himself up within himself, but when Sam needs him, he's there without a single question. He holds Sam after nightmares and wipes away tears when Sam wakes up with Jessica's name on his lips. Dean strokes his back while Sam throws up over and over, nausea and headache all-too-often accompaniments to the visions that come with more frequency the closer they get to the yellow eyed demon.
They make a good team, but it's more than that.
Sam sees things he didn't allow himself to see, or believe in, before he left for Stanford. He sees the kindness Dean tries to mask, to hide away from everyone, because he believes he'll be seen as weak. He sees the goodness and selflessness in his brother in the way Dean gives everything of himself, rarely asking or taking anything in return. He sees the love Dean has for him, for their dad, etched in every word and action. He sees the way Dean grounds him, gives him strength through his own.
It isn't until they lose Dad that Sam realizes what Dean means to him; what Dean is to him.
For so many years, Sam equated 'home' with a physical place. Four walls, and cookies, and clutter, and curtains. He referred to Kansas as home, because it was a solid, tangible thing. But he was so, so very wrong. He was even wrong, in a way, in thinking he was building a home with Jess. Wrong, because he already had a home. Has always had a home.
A home full of love and security; of laughter and tears and anger. A home full of clutter, and warmth, and brightness.
It's kind of an epiphany, and it smacks Sam upside the head when he's least expecting it, halfway to contented sleep, lying naked in Dean's arms with Dean's breath warm against the back of Sam's neck.
Home isn't a physical place. It's a person, and he's had it -- had that person -- all his life.
Dean is home.
~fin~
Author: Mickey M.
Pairing: implied Sam/Dean
Word Count: ~950
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: Non-graphic incest, vague references to events from the pilot, and IMToD
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made.
Notes: Many thanks to
raynedanser for beta-on-the-fly. Originally done for the spnflashfic challenge, prompt "Housing".Summary: Sam figures out the definition of home.
Sam's never had a home that he can remember that wasn't borrowed or temporary, or just wishful thinking.
He has no experience with the scent of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, or cheerful curtains fluttering over the kitchen sink; no memory of Saturday morning chores or lugging a trash can down to the curb for pick-up day, or mowing the lawn on lazy summer afternoons.
Sometimes he feels rootless, like there's nothing holding him to this earth. Like a good, stiff breeze could pluck him up and blow him away, leaving nothing behind but the vaguest of memories of him. Those days or moments, Sam envies Dean, with his memories of mom and dad, and a house that belonged to them; cozy space where he could spread out toys and belongings and never, ever fear those things that lurk in the dark, watching and waiting.
Other days, though, Sam thinks of what he has that so many don't -- and never will.
He has a big brother who, while annoying as all-get-out, will do anything for him whether it's help him with a book report or sneak him sips of beer when their dad isn't looking. Who will sit with him after nightmares pull him gasping and shouting out of sleep, and hold him until his breathing evens out and he can settle again. Who will pull punches when they're sparring, when he knows Sam is still tired and sore from the fight after school that their dad doesn't know about.
Sam doesn't have memories of chocolate chip cookies, but he does have memories of Dean curled up behind him, breath warm against Sam's neck, while the two of them stretch out along the backseat of the Impala during one of countless cross-country hunting trips. He has memories of hands that can inflict deadly damage holding him, soothing him, patching up dozens of scrapes and cuts. Memories of a mouth that can twist into a smirk or a frown smiling at him, then kissing assorted bruises or cuts so they would get better, faster.
Sam grows up (and up and up and up) with Dean being his touchstone, his best friend, his mother and father and brother all rolled in to one. He loves their dad, but dad is an untouchable; a presence that drifts in and out of their lives at the whim of whatever hunt he's pursuing. John Winchester lives for revenge, but not for his boys.
~~~~~
Jess decorates their apartment with bright colors and clutter that fills and overflows tables, bookshelves, even floor space. She bakes cookies and brownies, and sometimes, meatloaf.
When Sam bangs his head on the cupboard door, leaving a purpling mark rising on his forehead, she ices it and then kisses it better.
They have the same address for the two years they live together, and Sam knows that the white picket fence isn't just a dream dangling out of reach. They can have it; have a home that's filled with laughter and tears and children's voices, and a dog barking whenever someone knocks on the door.
Losing Jess leaves a hole inside of Sam that he doesn't believe can ever be filled, ripping away the facade of 'home' he'd started to build and allow himself to believe in.
~~~~~
Things have changed, but they haven't. Dean is still the biggest pain-in-the-ass Sam can imagine, but he throws himself in between Sam and danger at every opportunity, and patches him up and brings him coffee and annoys Sam with stupid jokes and pranks until Sam smiles in spite of himself.
Dean is loud, and obnoxious, and so determined not to encourage 'chick-flick moments' that he sometimes shuts himself up within himself, but when Sam needs him, he's there without a single question. He holds Sam after nightmares and wipes away tears when Sam wakes up with Jessica's name on his lips. Dean strokes his back while Sam throws up over and over, nausea and headache all-too-often accompaniments to the visions that come with more frequency the closer they get to the yellow eyed demon.
They make a good team, but it's more than that.
Sam sees things he didn't allow himself to see, or believe in, before he left for Stanford. He sees the kindness Dean tries to mask, to hide away from everyone, because he believes he'll be seen as weak. He sees the goodness and selflessness in his brother in the way Dean gives everything of himself, rarely asking or taking anything in return. He sees the love Dean has for him, for their dad, etched in every word and action. He sees the way Dean grounds him, gives him strength through his own.
It isn't until they lose Dad that Sam realizes what Dean means to him; what Dean is to him.
For so many years, Sam equated 'home' with a physical place. Four walls, and cookies, and clutter, and curtains. He referred to Kansas as home, because it was a solid, tangible thing. But he was so, so very wrong. He was even wrong, in a way, in thinking he was building a home with Jess. Wrong, because he already had a home. Has always had a home.
A home full of love and security; of laughter and tears and anger. A home full of clutter, and warmth, and brightness.
It's kind of an epiphany, and it smacks Sam upside the head when he's least expecting it, halfway to contented sleep, lying naked in Dean's arms with Dean's breath warm against the back of Sam's neck.
Home isn't a physical place. It's a person, and he's had it -- had that person -- all his life.
Dean is home.
~fin~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 12:45 pm (UTC)Dean is home.
That pretty much says it all, doesn't it? :-)
Loved it, sweetie! ♥
no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 01:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 02:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 03:07 pm (UTC)Yeah! Awesome. Beautiful fic.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 06:09 pm (UTC)Dean is loud, and obnoxious, and so determined not to encourage 'chick-flick moments' that he sometimes shuts himself up within himself, but when Sam needs him, he's there without a single question. He holds Sam after nightmares and wipes away tears when Sam wakes up with Jessica's name on his lips. Dean strokes his back while Sam throws up over and over, nausea and headache all-too-often accompaniments to the visions that come with more frequency the closer they get to the yellow eyed demon.
That's him... right there!
This progression in Sam's thinking is so very logical. It's beautifully written! Thanks so much!
no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-26 03:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-26 04:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-26 11:37 am (UTC)That was just beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-28 05:36 am (UTC)♥
no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-28 03:38 pm (UTC)He has memories of hands that can inflict deadly damage holding him, soothing him, patching up dozens of scrapes and cuts. Memories of a mouth that can twist into a smirk or a frown smiling at him, then kissing assorted bruises or cuts so they would get better, faster.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-06 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 05:52 pm (UTC)SERIOUSLY.
I am freaking speechless at the. . the awesomenss of the awesomely awesome epicly epicness epic full story.
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥