Supernatural FIC: Nice Life for the Price
Pairing: None
Rating: General
Category: Gen
Summary: John thinks about his sons.
Notes: Vague spoilers for Shadow. Hugs and kisses and sappy love to stone_princess for the beta. Title borrowed with apologizes from Jason Mraz lyrics, because I suck at titles!
Nice Life for the Price
John knew he'd made mistakes with his boys. After Mary, there were some days where it was all he could do to keep from giving up and letting the darkness claim them all. Those were the days when his boys were what kept him going.
But now, with his boys who are men standing in front of him, torn up and bleeding, with Dean insisting that they go their separate ways and Sam still uncertain and hurt from their tentative truce, John can see the places where he could have done better.
The thing about Dean is he's his father's son through and through. Even before Mary died, Dean had always belonged to John. Those are the memories John treasures most, though he's never told anyone.
Dean used to follow John around, imitating his every move. When John would work on the Impala on the weekends, Dean was there with him from the time he could walk. Holding the flashlight, handing him tools, and later helping him do the actual work. On Mondays, John would go back to work and tell the boys at the garage what new thing Dean had learned, and he would say, "That's my boy. Sharp as a whip."
And he was. Fiercely intelligent, a quick, quiet study. He never asked how something was done. Just watched John until he was sure he could do it.
Mary would laugh and say, "I swear, if I hadn't given birth to him, I would think you'd made yourself a little clone." And she would ruffle Dean's hair, and Dean would beam up at her and John's chest would swell with pride until he felt like he couldn't contain it anymore.
Everything changed after Mary died, and at the same time, it didn't. Dean still studied John's every move, picked up on his moods, and became cautious and alert of their surroundings. At first John had tried to protect him from what he suspected was out there, but it became useless after awhile. That's my boy. Sharp as a whip.
Whenever something seemed off, Dean would automatically move to protect Sam, and it was years before John fully realized how much responsibility he'd thrust on Dean's tiny shoulders the night of the fire.
He hadn't noticed at the time, because Dean did what he'd always done. Just took over the responsibility, watched and observed what needed to be done and did it. Just like his father. Daddy's little boy became daddy's little solider. So dependable that John never knew how much he relied on Dean until it was far too late to change.
But Sam. Sam was Mary's son, even without Mary's influence to guide him. He had her smile and her laughter. He had her quick wit and quicker temper and her ability to argue circles around John without breaking a sweat. Sam also had Mary's calming influence, when he chose to use it.
When Sam was still a baby, and John's world was still mostly chaos, all he had to do was pick Sam up. Feel the weight of his head resting against his shoulder and for a moment, all the terror and worry would die down, and John would find peace. Precious moments of calm in the thump of Sammy's tiny heartbeat.
Even as Sam grew older, he could sense John's moods. Those times when despair seemed to overwhelm everything else, Sam would crawl into John's lap and rest his head against John's heart. John would close his eyes and let everything but the feeling of Sam, safe and whole, bleed away.
Then there were those times, more and more often as Sam got older, when John would look at him and see Mary shining though so much that it hurt to be around him. Luckily for John, Dean was always there to step in, protect Sam and be what Sam needed when John couldn't.
And John knew that he'd been too hard on Sam. Too protective where he was lenient with Dean, and Dean followed John's lead. Protecting Sam was their mission first and foremost, an unspoken agreement between John and Dean, though Sam always thought it was to find Mary's killer.
With Sam, John had made a classic mistake, holding on tighter and tighter the more Sam rebelled, unwilling to tell Sam just how afraid he was for him. John thought he could do it, hold them all together, up until the day Sam left. Stormed out with Mary's temper, and John had lost his own. Yelled at Sam to stay gone, watched him leave and thought, How am I going to protect him now? Not for the first time, John thought that he had failed his sons.
But tonight, John watched them fight and realized that somewhere along the way Dean had become his own man and Sam had become a warrior strong enough to protect them all.
John looks at his sons, torn, but not broken. Too strong to give up. They agree to split up again, and John can leave knowing that they'll be safe. That Sam and Dean will protect each other and John can do what he needs to, and maybe someday down the road they can all find a little peace.
John knows that he will never win any parenting awards, but when he takes one last look at his boys before he drives away, at the men they've become, he's never been more proud in his life. There's not a damn thing he'd change about either of them. He knows didn't do too bad after all.
Rating: General
Category: Gen
Summary: John thinks about his sons.
Notes: Vague spoilers for Shadow. Hugs and kisses and sappy love to stone_princess for the beta. Title borrowed with apologizes from Jason Mraz lyrics, because I suck at titles!
Nice Life for the Price
John knew he'd made mistakes with his boys. After Mary, there were some days where it was all he could do to keep from giving up and letting the darkness claim them all. Those were the days when his boys were what kept him going.
But now, with his boys who are men standing in front of him, torn up and bleeding, with Dean insisting that they go their separate ways and Sam still uncertain and hurt from their tentative truce, John can see the places where he could have done better.
The thing about Dean is he's his father's son through and through. Even before Mary died, Dean had always belonged to John. Those are the memories John treasures most, though he's never told anyone.
Dean used to follow John around, imitating his every move. When John would work on the Impala on the weekends, Dean was there with him from the time he could walk. Holding the flashlight, handing him tools, and later helping him do the actual work. On Mondays, John would go back to work and tell the boys at the garage what new thing Dean had learned, and he would say, "That's my boy. Sharp as a whip."
And he was. Fiercely intelligent, a quick, quiet study. He never asked how something was done. Just watched John until he was sure he could do it.
Mary would laugh and say, "I swear, if I hadn't given birth to him, I would think you'd made yourself a little clone." And she would ruffle Dean's hair, and Dean would beam up at her and John's chest would swell with pride until he felt like he couldn't contain it anymore.
Everything changed after Mary died, and at the same time, it didn't. Dean still studied John's every move, picked up on his moods, and became cautious and alert of their surroundings. At first John had tried to protect him from what he suspected was out there, but it became useless after awhile. That's my boy. Sharp as a whip.
Whenever something seemed off, Dean would automatically move to protect Sam, and it was years before John fully realized how much responsibility he'd thrust on Dean's tiny shoulders the night of the fire.
He hadn't noticed at the time, because Dean did what he'd always done. Just took over the responsibility, watched and observed what needed to be done and did it. Just like his father. Daddy's little boy became daddy's little solider. So dependable that John never knew how much he relied on Dean until it was far too late to change.
But Sam. Sam was Mary's son, even without Mary's influence to guide him. He had her smile and her laughter. He had her quick wit and quicker temper and her ability to argue circles around John without breaking a sweat. Sam also had Mary's calming influence, when he chose to use it.
When Sam was still a baby, and John's world was still mostly chaos, all he had to do was pick Sam up. Feel the weight of his head resting against his shoulder and for a moment, all the terror and worry would die down, and John would find peace. Precious moments of calm in the thump of Sammy's tiny heartbeat.
Even as Sam grew older, he could sense John's moods. Those times when despair seemed to overwhelm everything else, Sam would crawl into John's lap and rest his head against John's heart. John would close his eyes and let everything but the feeling of Sam, safe and whole, bleed away.
Then there were those times, more and more often as Sam got older, when John would look at him and see Mary shining though so much that it hurt to be around him. Luckily for John, Dean was always there to step in, protect Sam and be what Sam needed when John couldn't.
And John knew that he'd been too hard on Sam. Too protective where he was lenient with Dean, and Dean followed John's lead. Protecting Sam was their mission first and foremost, an unspoken agreement between John and Dean, though Sam always thought it was to find Mary's killer.
With Sam, John had made a classic mistake, holding on tighter and tighter the more Sam rebelled, unwilling to tell Sam just how afraid he was for him. John thought he could do it, hold them all together, up until the day Sam left. Stormed out with Mary's temper, and John had lost his own. Yelled at Sam to stay gone, watched him leave and thought, How am I going to protect him now? Not for the first time, John thought that he had failed his sons.
But tonight, John watched them fight and realized that somewhere along the way Dean had become his own man and Sam had become a warrior strong enough to protect them all.
John looks at his sons, torn, but not broken. Too strong to give up. They agree to split up again, and John can leave knowing that they'll be safe. That Sam and Dean will protect each other and John can do what he needs to, and maybe someday down the road they can all find a little peace.
John knows that he will never win any parenting awards, but when he takes one last look at his boys before he drives away, at the men they've become, he's never been more proud in his life. There's not a damn thing he'd change about either of them. He knows didn't do too bad after all.