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tamingthemuseTitle: Handle With Care
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN. All recognizable characters and situations belong to their respective owners and I make no profit off of playing with them.
Prompt: #107 “In Absentia” at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tamingthemuse
Characters Dean, Sam, John
Word Count: 880
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers SPN “Pilot”, preseries
Summary: John wasn’t gone but he was never really there, so Dean picked up the slack and kept picking it up. What else was he suppose to do?
Author’s Note: After weeks of watching prompts go by and not having the courage to join in I chatted with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blue_icy_rose and am now going to try to stick with this. Also, beta'd by blue_icy_rose
~*~
By the age of twelve, Dean Winchester already knew how to hit every target with the gun his father had given him. He knew how to lay down salt lines and recite an exorcism ritual with only spotty pronunciation.
By the age of twelve, Dean knew how to lie to his teachers about broken bones and frequent absences. All he had to do was smile crookedly and duck his head, making sure to peek out beneath the fringe.
By the age of twelve, he knew how to pack Sam’s lunches every morning and to pick him up after school everyday. He knew how to make him dinner and make sure he got his homework done. He made sure to tell Sam stories before bed and keep an ear out at night in case his little brother had nightmares.
He could sing Happy Birthday to him with a homemade cake while Dad was in the hospital.
He took him shopping for Valentine’s Day cards for his class while their Dad was doing research.
He wrapped the presents he managed to buy using some emergency money and put it under the almost dead tree he had stolen for Christmas. Dad was hunting again; he had had a lead on the demon.
By the age of sixteen, Dean knew how to make sure Sammy was keeping up in his training and made sure he got through Dad’s tests. Afterwards, he would take him out to eat and congratulate him on fooling the old man again.
When Dean was sixteen, Sam started joining them for small hunts and they started moving more. Dean stopped watching his father’s back and began shielding Sam’s.
Sometimes their Dad had to go out of state on a long hunt and since they couldn’t miss school anymore, they stayed behind. Dean went to Sam’s soccer games, his plays. He helped him get ready for his first date with Susie Jones and teased him when he left half way through.
Years passed, Sam got taller and lost his baby fat and the more Dean could take care of things, the more Dad was gone on a hunt, chasing down the demon, doing research. The more Dean stepped up and took the responsibility laid on his shoulders, the more their dad faded out of the picture.
The day to day chores became Dean’s. He got a part time job and paid for new clothes for Sam so he could fit in better. Made sure he had spending money for field trips and games. He was there for Sam’s first break-up, his first fight, his first dance, and the first and only time he broke down because Mom should have been there and wasn’t.
Sam never said anything about Dad and neither did Dean. Mom was gone for good; Dad was still there, just not there. Mom they could feel missing, the spot where she should have been was a daily reminder, and Dad had never been there to begin with.
He had stopped fitting with them a long time ago.
At the age of four, Dean had taken Sam into his arms and out of the fire and it had been just the two of them, a family.
At that age, he had known how to mourn for his mother and tell his father it would be okay. He had learned how to heat the bottle for Sam and change his diaper. He had learned how to rock him to sleep when he would scream all night.
At a young age Dean had learned how to be a father. John had gotten lost in the rage and search for vengeance and Dean had straddled both sides, being his Dad’s “Yes, Sir.” soldier and his brother’s “Okay, Sammy.” protector.
At a young age, Dean Winchester had lost the say in who he wanted to be, in the path that his life would lead.
At the age of twenty-two, Dean had had to watch his brother, his compass, get on a bus to California and he had been lost inside the man his father had made him to be, that last thread of hope that Sam had held with them, that last vision of the life his mother had dreamed for him was gone and he had been left to rebuild. He hadn’t known how to let him go but he had had to learn.
Just when he had thought he was getting it together again, his father had left, this time literally, and cut off the one assurance Dean had always had. He had left him with nothing, no direction, no focus.
So he had gone to Sam, because everything led back to him, everything, and maybe it would all be okay if he could get that back.
At the age of twenty-six, Dean had to remember what it was like to stand guard for someone else and live a life he never would have picked, to live the life he had been left with. He knew how to put himself in between Sam and the rest of the world. He knew how to stand beside his brother.
He learned to be a man, a father, a Hunter, a son, a soldier. He learned to be Dean Winchester, whoever the hell that was.
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN. All recognizable characters and situations belong to their respective owners and I make no profit off of playing with them.
Prompt: #107 “In Absentia” at
tamingthemuseCharacters Dean, Sam, John
Word Count: 880
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers SPN “Pilot”, preseries
Summary: John wasn’t gone but he was never really there, so Dean picked up the slack and kept picking it up. What else was he suppose to do?
Author’s Note: After weeks of watching prompts go by and not having the courage to join in I chatted with
blue_icy_rose and am now going to try to stick with this. Also, beta'd by blue_icy_rose~*~
By the age of twelve, Dean Winchester already knew how to hit every target with the gun his father had given him. He knew how to lay down salt lines and recite an exorcism ritual with only spotty pronunciation.
By the age of twelve, Dean knew how to lie to his teachers about broken bones and frequent absences. All he had to do was smile crookedly and duck his head, making sure to peek out beneath the fringe.
By the age of twelve, he knew how to pack Sam’s lunches every morning and to pick him up after school everyday. He knew how to make him dinner and make sure he got his homework done. He made sure to tell Sam stories before bed and keep an ear out at night in case his little brother had nightmares.
He could sing Happy Birthday to him with a homemade cake while Dad was in the hospital.
He took him shopping for Valentine’s Day cards for his class while their Dad was doing research.
He wrapped the presents he managed to buy using some emergency money and put it under the almost dead tree he had stolen for Christmas. Dad was hunting again; he had had a lead on the demon.
By the age of sixteen, Dean knew how to make sure Sammy was keeping up in his training and made sure he got through Dad’s tests. Afterwards, he would take him out to eat and congratulate him on fooling the old man again.
When Dean was sixteen, Sam started joining them for small hunts and they started moving more. Dean stopped watching his father’s back and began shielding Sam’s.
Sometimes their Dad had to go out of state on a long hunt and since they couldn’t miss school anymore, they stayed behind. Dean went to Sam’s soccer games, his plays. He helped him get ready for his first date with Susie Jones and teased him when he left half way through.
Years passed, Sam got taller and lost his baby fat and the more Dean could take care of things, the more Dad was gone on a hunt, chasing down the demon, doing research. The more Dean stepped up and took the responsibility laid on his shoulders, the more their dad faded out of the picture.
The day to day chores became Dean’s. He got a part time job and paid for new clothes for Sam so he could fit in better. Made sure he had spending money for field trips and games. He was there for Sam’s first break-up, his first fight, his first dance, and the first and only time he broke down because Mom should have been there and wasn’t.
Sam never said anything about Dad and neither did Dean. Mom was gone for good; Dad was still there, just not there. Mom they could feel missing, the spot where she should have been was a daily reminder, and Dad had never been there to begin with.
He had stopped fitting with them a long time ago.
At the age of four, Dean had taken Sam into his arms and out of the fire and it had been just the two of them, a family.
At that age, he had known how to mourn for his mother and tell his father it would be okay. He had learned how to heat the bottle for Sam and change his diaper. He had learned how to rock him to sleep when he would scream all night.
At a young age Dean had learned how to be a father. John had gotten lost in the rage and search for vengeance and Dean had straddled both sides, being his Dad’s “Yes, Sir.” soldier and his brother’s “Okay, Sammy.” protector.
At a young age, Dean Winchester had lost the say in who he wanted to be, in the path that his life would lead.
At the age of twenty-two, Dean had had to watch his brother, his compass, get on a bus to California and he had been lost inside the man his father had made him to be, that last thread of hope that Sam had held with them, that last vision of the life his mother had dreamed for him was gone and he had been left to rebuild. He hadn’t known how to let him go but he had had to learn.
Just when he had thought he was getting it together again, his father had left, this time literally, and cut off the one assurance Dean had always had. He had left him with nothing, no direction, no focus.
So he had gone to Sam, because everything led back to him, everything, and maybe it would all be okay if he could get that back.
At the age of twenty-six, Dean had to remember what it was like to stand guard for someone else and live a life he never would have picked, to live the life he had been left with. He knew how to put himself in between Sam and the rest of the world. He knew how to stand beside his brother.
He learned to be a man, a father, a Hunter, a son, a soldier. He learned to be Dean Winchester, whoever the hell that was.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-07 08:17 am (UTC)Second off, that's lovely. As a portrait of Dean, it tugs at my heart strings and it encompasses all the aspects of Dean we see on the screen. Beautifully done.