Once again, much love to geckoholic for making the beautiful, seasonal banner. Thank-youuu for making this whole thing possible. <333 YOU ARE OUR HERO.
Dean is seven when Dad takes him hunting. He doesn’t want to go; Dean is jealous of his little brother, jealous of Sammy who looks cosy and warm wrapped up in pj’s and a blanket, sitting on the sofa with strict orders not to move, not to open the door and absolutely not to leave the room for anything. Instead, he gets jeans and a jacket and cold cold snow, his breath travelling in visible clouds on the air. The best part is that he’s allowed to sit up front in the Impala, and he feels proud and important sitting up there with Dad even though every single fiber of his being wants to be back in the motel
( ... )
At first he just moves in little circles, footprints digging a circular trench in the snow until he’s walking on frozen dirt. The footsteps keep getting further and further apart until he’s gone in a circle around one tree, and then two, and then three. Dean keeps his eyes closed against the wind, pushing sleet and snow against him in the form of brick walls. His imagination is just supplying him with images of the motel, of Sammy sleeping on the sofa underneath the wooly blanket he insists on taking everywhere with him. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he can taste salt on his tongue from the tears that are slowly trickling their way down his face.
It shocks him when he walks headlong into a tree, bouncing back into the snow. He can’t get up, Dean can’t. He crawls forwards until he’s more or less protected by the giant trunk of the tree, thicker than twice him. Dad said to wait where he was until he found him and he wants to wait, he can’t move anymore, he can’t walk another inch. Dean hears something rattling and his head
( ... )
Dean is jealous of his little brother, jealous of Sammy who looks cosy and warm wrapped up in pj’s and a blanket, sitting on the sofa with strict orders not to move, not to open the door and absolutely not to leave the room for anything. Instead, he gets jeans and a jacket and cold cold snow, his breath travelling in visible clouds on the air.
AW. I picture this exactly. As much as Dean says he enjoys the hunting life, there's still that sadness, the idea of something more. Well done!
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It shocks him when he walks headlong into a tree, bouncing back into the snow. He can’t get up, Dean can’t. He crawls forwards until he’s more or less protected by the giant trunk of the tree, thicker than twice him. Dad said to wait where he was until he found him and he wants to wait, he can’t move anymore, he can’t walk another inch. Dean hears something rattling and his head ( ... )
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And is that a Peter Pan reference I see? <333
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& heee, yes ♥ absolutely blaming a friend of mine for that, it was her idea and she forced it on me haha
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Dean is jealous of his little brother, jealous of Sammy who looks cosy and warm wrapped up in pj’s and a blanket, sitting on the sofa with strict orders not to move, not to open the door and absolutely not to leave the room for anything. Instead, he gets jeans and a jacket and cold cold snow, his breath travelling in visible clouds on the air.
AW. I picture this exactly. As much as Dean says he enjoys the hunting life, there's still that sadness, the idea of something more. Well done!
Reply
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