SPN FIC - And When That Blue Heartache Starts Hurtin'
Uncle Bobby had plans: for a gaily-decorated tree, a huge pile of gifts, the laughter of children on Christmas morning. But you know what they say about the best-laid plans...
CHARACTERS: Bobby and Rufus
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 300 words
AND WHEN THAT BLUE HEARTACHE STARTS HURTIN'
By Carol Davis
"That's pathetic," Rufus said. "That right there?"
He gestured with his glass, then quickly brought it back to his lips, as if he suspected someone - something - would drain it dry if he left it dangling out there in space for too long. Ghost, maybe. There were certainly enough of those lingering around this house.
"You hearing me?" Rufus said when a minute had gone by and Bobby hadn't answered him.
"Pathetic," Bobby echoed. "I heard you."
"Stubborn son-of-a-bitch grabs his kids and hits the road, and you're sittin' here by yourself with a dead tree in your living room. Damn good thing I was in the neighborhood."
The object of his derision was propped against a wall in the corner: a formerly lush Ponderosa pine, now limp, browning, the floor beneath it littered with needles. He'd meant to decorate it - to pull out the boxes of ornaments he and Karen had bought, once upon a time, and the few left over from his childhood. He'd meant to turn it into something special, or at least, as special as a dusty, book-and-talisman-filled farmhouse would allow.
He'd assumed the old black Impala would come back - that John Winchester had taken his children on some sort of errand, and they'd be back before dark.
Before dark, four days ago.
"It ain't your responsibility, Bobby," Rufus said, and it wasn't unkind. "Those kids've got nothin' to do with you. Let it go."
Not your responsibility.
No, of course they weren't.
But this one time, he'd had visions of a gaily-decorated tree. Of a spill of brightly-wrapped gifts. Of the cheerful shrieks of children.
He'd dreamed of all of that, once upon a time.
Instead, this house would remain quiet. Another Christmas would slide by, uncelebrated.
"Gimme the damn bottle back," Bobby told his friend.
* * * * *
CHARACTERS: Bobby and Rufus
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 300 words
AND WHEN THAT BLUE HEARTACHE STARTS HURTIN'
By Carol Davis
"That's pathetic," Rufus said. "That right there?"
He gestured with his glass, then quickly brought it back to his lips, as if he suspected someone - something - would drain it dry if he left it dangling out there in space for too long. Ghost, maybe. There were certainly enough of those lingering around this house.
"You hearing me?" Rufus said when a minute had gone by and Bobby hadn't answered him.
"Pathetic," Bobby echoed. "I heard you."
"Stubborn son-of-a-bitch grabs his kids and hits the road, and you're sittin' here by yourself with a dead tree in your living room. Damn good thing I was in the neighborhood."
The object of his derision was propped against a wall in the corner: a formerly lush Ponderosa pine, now limp, browning, the floor beneath it littered with needles. He'd meant to decorate it - to pull out the boxes of ornaments he and Karen had bought, once upon a time, and the few left over from his childhood. He'd meant to turn it into something special, or at least, as special as a dusty, book-and-talisman-filled farmhouse would allow.
He'd assumed the old black Impala would come back - that John Winchester had taken his children on some sort of errand, and they'd be back before dark.
Before dark, four days ago.
"It ain't your responsibility, Bobby," Rufus said, and it wasn't unkind. "Those kids've got nothin' to do with you. Let it go."
Not your responsibility.
No, of course they weren't.
But this one time, he'd had visions of a gaily-decorated tree. Of a spill of brightly-wrapped gifts. Of the cheerful shrieks of children.
He'd dreamed of all of that, once upon a time.
Instead, this house would remain quiet. Another Christmas would slide by, uncelebrated.
"Gimme the damn bottle back," Bobby told his friend.
* * * * *