SPN FIC - Leaf
There's so much to learn. So much to try to understand, to absorb from all those old books. But there's a small voice calling...
CHARACTERS: John and wee!Sammy
GENRE: Gen
RATING: G
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 400 words
LEAF
By Carol Davis
"Daaaaad!"
He shouldn't look away from what he's doing - shouldn't shift his attention from the collection of old books he's laid out across Jim's dining room table. Yes, he could stand a break from the smell of mildew and dust, from that infernal small print, but there's too much left to do. To learn.
"DADDY! Hey, Dad!"
That sweet small voice. The one that turns his name into a song.
His fingers work at the ribbed plastic of his pen as he listens to the clatter of footfalls on the porch, the creak of the door, the sudden thump as the door, pushed too hard, impacts with the wall at the foot of the stairs.
"Dad? Where you are, Dad?"
So much to read, try to digest. So much that his brain has balked at understanding, the way it resisted the finer points of high school chemistry. Hell, pretty much anything in high school. Geometry. American Lit.
"I'm here, Sammy," he says softly.
But he's already been found. His son, ruddy-cheeked from the chill of late October in Minnesota, is standing alongside his chair. "We got ALL the leafs, Dad," Sam says proudly. "Pastor Jim didn't even need to help."
"That's good, Sam," John murmurs.
"There's a LOT of leafs."
"I'm sure."
"Is there a billion leafs, Dad? Pastor Jim says a billion is a whole lot."
"Could be," John concedes.
Beaming, Sam lifts a small hand and offers a single leaf: a big one, rust and red and gold. "You can have this one. I picked it out. It's a good one."
Such pure joy.
In its own way, it's as tough to take in as all that Latin.
"Thank you, son," John says, leaning over to kiss the top of his son's warm, tousled head. "It's a great leaf." And it is: as vivid as the stained glass in Jim's church. A little bit of nature's glory.
"You wanna come see?" Sam offers, plucking at John's sleeve in the way that says a "no" won't be well received. "We got 'em all. It's a HUGEOUS pile. Pastor Jim says we can jump in 'em. You wanna come jump with us?"
John takes in his spread of books in a glance.
Then looks, again, at Sam's flushed, eager little face, at the innocent, unbroken joy in his expression.
"I do," John says, and pushes up out of his chair.
* * * * *
CHARACTERS: John and wee!Sammy
GENRE: Gen
RATING: G
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 400 words
LEAF
By Carol Davis
"Daaaaad!"
He shouldn't look away from what he's doing - shouldn't shift his attention from the collection of old books he's laid out across Jim's dining room table. Yes, he could stand a break from the smell of mildew and dust, from that infernal small print, but there's too much left to do. To learn.
"DADDY! Hey, Dad!"
That sweet small voice. The one that turns his name into a song.
His fingers work at the ribbed plastic of his pen as he listens to the clatter of footfalls on the porch, the creak of the door, the sudden thump as the door, pushed too hard, impacts with the wall at the foot of the stairs.
"Dad? Where you are, Dad?"
So much to read, try to digest. So much that his brain has balked at understanding, the way it resisted the finer points of high school chemistry. Hell, pretty much anything in high school. Geometry. American Lit.
"I'm here, Sammy," he says softly.
But he's already been found. His son, ruddy-cheeked from the chill of late October in Minnesota, is standing alongside his chair. "We got ALL the leafs, Dad," Sam says proudly. "Pastor Jim didn't even need to help."
"That's good, Sam," John murmurs.
"There's a LOT of leafs."
"I'm sure."
"Is there a billion leafs, Dad? Pastor Jim says a billion is a whole lot."
"Could be," John concedes.
Beaming, Sam lifts a small hand and offers a single leaf: a big one, rust and red and gold. "You can have this one. I picked it out. It's a good one."
Such pure joy.
In its own way, it's as tough to take in as all that Latin.
"Thank you, son," John says, leaning over to kiss the top of his son's warm, tousled head. "It's a great leaf." And it is: as vivid as the stained glass in Jim's church. A little bit of nature's glory.
"You wanna come see?" Sam offers, plucking at John's sleeve in the way that says a "no" won't be well received. "We got 'em all. It's a HUGEOUS pile. Pastor Jim says we can jump in 'em. You wanna come jump with us?"
John takes in his spread of books in a glance.
Then looks, again, at Sam's flushed, eager little face, at the innocent, unbroken joy in his expression.
"I do," John says, and pushes up out of his chair.
* * * * *