SPN Fic: Before a Fall
Title: Before a Fall
Author: deirdre_c
Rating/Pairing: PG-13, Sam/Dean
Author's Note: Hello! This is me killing several birds with one stone. It's a story in nine drabbles written for prompts given by lovely people who bid on (but didn't win) me in the help_japan auction. It's also a gift for my girlguidejones who asked for a fic in which: "One Winchester publicly fanboys the other, to the point where others notice." Plus, this is the first time I've tried writing outsider POV. Many balls in the air!
Word Count: Exactly 1000 words (the last is a double-drabble).
Summary: Dean's always been proud of Sam.
~~
Mary’s always told people that Sam’s the quietest baby ever born. As an infant-for his whole first year, really- Dean was up and yowling every three hours. Not Sammy, he’s slept through the night from the beginning.
Or so she thought. Turns out Dean’s been sneaking into Sammy’s crib at midnight, 4a.m., whenever he wakes, shushing and making faces, Dean’s own still-chubby hand patting Sammy’s back.
She leans against the nursery doorway, watching them in the moonlight.
Dean spies her, grins wide despite getting caught. “He smiled at me, Mommy!” he stage-whispers, then turns back to Sam. “At me.”
~~
John rolls over at the click of the motel room door. Enough light seeps through threadbare curtains to see the empty queen beside his. What the hell is Dean doing, taking a six-year-old out this time of morning?
He shoves his feet into boots, stalks outside.
“You gotta be observant, Sammy, always alert to clues.” John recognizes his own instructions to Dean about hunting. But Sam’s not supposed-
He jerks back before the boys notice him, watching as Sam pulls a bright blue egg from behind the Impala’s wheel and sticks it in a plastic basket, Dean ruffling Sam’s hair.
~~
Mike remembers being the new kid in a small town, thirty years ago.
Now here’s Sam, new to Breeanna’s fourth grade class. Last week, Bree’d moped about Sam not having a birthday party, his dad away on business. Mike promised they’d throw Sam one themselves, invite the neighborhood kids.
He watches Sam unwrap a Batman figure from Cody, ducking shyly. “Thanks.”
It’s his older brother who’s been beaming all afternoon, apparently enjoying this way more than Sam. He hands over a present, an old ball glove, Winchester inked across it.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Sam smiles for the first time that day.
~~
It would be fun watching her son’s games, Dawn thinks, if only this kid would shut up.
“Nail ‘em to the wall!”
He’s parked behind home plate, fingers curled in the chain-link fence, looking like he’s about to climb it and rush onto the field himself. Can’t be older than fifteen, sixteen, but he’s tall as some of the dads coaching.
“A’right, Sam, Sam, Sam-may! Three up, three down!”
Runs his mouth through every game, every time their star player- his brother?- bats or makes a play. Now it’s relief pitching.
“Aim and fire!”
She can’t wait for soccer season.
~~
She’s been dating Sam-- almost exclusively, for fuck’s sake-- the past four months, and Dean’d always been really sweet to her. (If she wasn’t doing Sam, she’d totally be all over Dean, yo. ‘Cause, damn, older guys are hot.) But last week he’d caught them fooling around in Sam’s bed after school- exactly where else are they supposed to go? Her parents are home, always snooping around- and since then Dean’s turned into a complete asshole. The worst is that he just stood there watching her go down on Sam for, like, five minutes before kicking her out. Fucking pervert.
~~
Roger hates this job sometimes. So much. Dead kids are the worst.
He ducks under the tape, heads to where the tall, lanky boy sits sobbing silently, face sloppy with tears, a miniature teddy bear cupped in his hands. The other has both arms around him, clutched close to his chest and Roger can barely make out what he’s whispering, ”You did great… nothing… could do… saved the rest… first time the hardest… dad… we…”
He plants his foot on the curb beside them. “Boys. Gotta get a statement from you. Then the Wilsons want to see you, say thanks.”
~~
“Sorry. Entry is for students only.”
Vice Principal Mixon knows this guy isn’t a high schooler. Pretty face or no, he’s too old. But given the leather-jacket-and-jeans ensemble, he’s not exactly trying to sneak in, either.
“Just here to fetch my brother. Family emergency.” The guy scans the crowd, focuses on the kids up on stage. “What’s up?”
“Homecoming court’s being crowned.” He catches on. “You related to Sam Winchester?”
“Yep.” The couples blush and preen, Sam a head taller than the rest, wrists sticking out of the sleeves of his suit coat. His brother’s face softens, glows. “That’s m’boy.”
~~
Must be an accident up ahead or something, ‘cause traffic is at a standstill.
Trish glances over at the lane next to hers, at a black, old-fashioned tank of a car. There’s a cute guy in the driver’s seat, so at least she’s got some eye-candy if they’re going to be stuck here awhile.
There’s another guy sleeping in the passenger seat, aviator shades on, chin tucked into his chest. She catches the driver reaching over, smile wry, his hand hovering over shaggy brown hair, then gently brushing through it.
The cars ahead start moving. She doesn’t want to go.
~~
Sid sells the kid a one-way ticket and watches the two of them walk slowly over to where the bus idles, minutes from leaving.
They stand at the open door and Sid can’t hear what the one says, something about being scared, but the other, loud and clear, replies, “You’re going to kick their asses, Sammy.”
Then he grabs this Sammy kid by the back of the neck, drags him down into, Jesus Fucking Christ, a kiss. It’s no goodbye peck, either, but a long, frantic thing that’s enough to make Sid want to retch.
San Francisco. He should’ve known.
They’re still at it, clutching, grabbing at each other’s clothes, it’s so fucking disgusting, and he’s about to go over there and break this shit up when the kid shoves the shorter guy away, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand, eyes wild, shock written all over his face.
For a minute, Sid thinks there might be a fight. That, or another kiss. But the other one turns away without a word, striding back toward his car. He returns Sid’s glare as he walks by and there’s no shock in this little faggot’s eyes, no sir. Just pride.
Final Author’s Note:
Here are the prompts I was given for each drabble…
1) honscot: moonlight
2) tsuki_no_bara: Easter eggs
3) ancastar: Sam's birthday
4) counteragent: first pitch
5) dreamlittleyo: hackles raised
6) poor_choices : cuddly Sam/Dean also secret adorable stuffed animal
7) weesta: last dance
8) shinyslasher: aviator shades
9) jasmasson: no regrets
Thanks, everyone!! I apologize if anyone was left out. ♥
Author: deirdre_c
Rating/Pairing: PG-13, Sam/Dean
Author's Note: Hello! This is me killing several birds with one stone. It's a story in nine drabbles written for prompts given by lovely people who bid on (but didn't win) me in the help_japan auction. It's also a gift for my girlguidejones who asked for a fic in which: "One Winchester publicly fanboys the other, to the point where others notice." Plus, this is the first time I've tried writing outsider POV. Many balls in the air!
Word Count: Exactly 1000 words (the last is a double-drabble).
Summary: Dean's always been proud of Sam.
~~
Mary’s always told people that Sam’s the quietest baby ever born. As an infant-for his whole first year, really- Dean was up and yowling every three hours. Not Sammy, he’s slept through the night from the beginning.
Or so she thought. Turns out Dean’s been sneaking into Sammy’s crib at midnight, 4a.m., whenever he wakes, shushing and making faces, Dean’s own still-chubby hand patting Sammy’s back.
She leans against the nursery doorway, watching them in the moonlight.
Dean spies her, grins wide despite getting caught. “He smiled at me, Mommy!” he stage-whispers, then turns back to Sam. “At me.”
~~
John rolls over at the click of the motel room door. Enough light seeps through threadbare curtains to see the empty queen beside his. What the hell is Dean doing, taking a six-year-old out this time of morning?
He shoves his feet into boots, stalks outside.
“You gotta be observant, Sammy, always alert to clues.” John recognizes his own instructions to Dean about hunting. But Sam’s not supposed-
He jerks back before the boys notice him, watching as Sam pulls a bright blue egg from behind the Impala’s wheel and sticks it in a plastic basket, Dean ruffling Sam’s hair.
~~
Mike remembers being the new kid in a small town, thirty years ago.
Now here’s Sam, new to Breeanna’s fourth grade class. Last week, Bree’d moped about Sam not having a birthday party, his dad away on business. Mike promised they’d throw Sam one themselves, invite the neighborhood kids.
He watches Sam unwrap a Batman figure from Cody, ducking shyly. “Thanks.”
It’s his older brother who’s been beaming all afternoon, apparently enjoying this way more than Sam. He hands over a present, an old ball glove, Winchester inked across it.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Sam smiles for the first time that day.
~~
It would be fun watching her son’s games, Dawn thinks, if only this kid would shut up.
“Nail ‘em to the wall!”
He’s parked behind home plate, fingers curled in the chain-link fence, looking like he’s about to climb it and rush onto the field himself. Can’t be older than fifteen, sixteen, but he’s tall as some of the dads coaching.
“A’right, Sam, Sam, Sam-may! Three up, three down!”
Runs his mouth through every game, every time their star player- his brother?- bats or makes a play. Now it’s relief pitching.
“Aim and fire!”
She can’t wait for soccer season.
~~
She’s been dating Sam-- almost exclusively, for fuck’s sake-- the past four months, and Dean’d always been really sweet to her. (If she wasn’t doing Sam, she’d totally be all over Dean, yo. ‘Cause, damn, older guys are hot.) But last week he’d caught them fooling around in Sam’s bed after school- exactly where else are they supposed to go? Her parents are home, always snooping around- and since then Dean’s turned into a complete asshole. The worst is that he just stood there watching her go down on Sam for, like, five minutes before kicking her out. Fucking pervert.
~~
Roger hates this job sometimes. So much. Dead kids are the worst.
He ducks under the tape, heads to where the tall, lanky boy sits sobbing silently, face sloppy with tears, a miniature teddy bear cupped in his hands. The other has both arms around him, clutched close to his chest and Roger can barely make out what he’s whispering, ”You did great… nothing… could do… saved the rest… first time the hardest… dad… we…”
He plants his foot on the curb beside them. “Boys. Gotta get a statement from you. Then the Wilsons want to see you, say thanks.”
~~
“Sorry. Entry is for students only.”
Vice Principal Mixon knows this guy isn’t a high schooler. Pretty face or no, he’s too old. But given the leather-jacket-and-jeans ensemble, he’s not exactly trying to sneak in, either.
“Just here to fetch my brother. Family emergency.” The guy scans the crowd, focuses on the kids up on stage. “What’s up?”
“Homecoming court’s being crowned.” He catches on. “You related to Sam Winchester?”
“Yep.” The couples blush and preen, Sam a head taller than the rest, wrists sticking out of the sleeves of his suit coat. His brother’s face softens, glows. “That’s m’boy.”
~~
Must be an accident up ahead or something, ‘cause traffic is at a standstill.
Trish glances over at the lane next to hers, at a black, old-fashioned tank of a car. There’s a cute guy in the driver’s seat, so at least she’s got some eye-candy if they’re going to be stuck here awhile.
There’s another guy sleeping in the passenger seat, aviator shades on, chin tucked into his chest. She catches the driver reaching over, smile wry, his hand hovering over shaggy brown hair, then gently brushing through it.
The cars ahead start moving. She doesn’t want to go.
~~
Sid sells the kid a one-way ticket and watches the two of them walk slowly over to where the bus idles, minutes from leaving.
They stand at the open door and Sid can’t hear what the one says, something about being scared, but the other, loud and clear, replies, “You’re going to kick their asses, Sammy.”
Then he grabs this Sammy kid by the back of the neck, drags him down into, Jesus Fucking Christ, a kiss. It’s no goodbye peck, either, but a long, frantic thing that’s enough to make Sid want to retch.
San Francisco. He should’ve known.
They’re still at it, clutching, grabbing at each other’s clothes, it’s so fucking disgusting, and he’s about to go over there and break this shit up when the kid shoves the shorter guy away, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand, eyes wild, shock written all over his face.
For a minute, Sid thinks there might be a fight. That, or another kiss. But the other one turns away without a word, striding back toward his car. He returns Sid’s glare as he walks by and there’s no shock in this little faggot’s eyes, no sir. Just pride.
Final Author’s Note:
Here are the prompts I was given for each drabble…
1) honscot: moonlight
2) tsuki_no_bara: Easter eggs
3) ancastar: Sam's birthday
4) counteragent: first pitch
5) dreamlittleyo: hackles raised
6) poor_choices : cuddly Sam/Dean also secret adorable stuffed animal
7) weesta: last dance
8) shinyslasher: aviator shades
9) jasmasson: no regrets
Thanks, everyone!! I apologize if anyone was left out. ♥