Re: FILLED: Pitter-Patter, 2/2prufrock_26June 4 2012, 20:23:18 UTC
“Dean.”
He isn’t sure if the response is a word, or just pain. The paper towel’s already sodden under his fingers, brilliant and hot with his brother’s blood; he tosses it at the trash can and rips another off of the roll.
“Talk to me, man. What happened?” Dean’s eyebrows jerk together as Sam presses the rough paper up against the swimming mess of his sole; he tips his head back to blink the sweat out of his eyes and laugh, breathless and harsh.
“Lost my shoes.”
“And you just - ” Sam swallows rage, feeling sick. “Just went on without them? When’d you lose them? How?”
And Dean’s eyes freeze over, green and still in the pale, burning wreck of his face.
“I don’t remember,” is all he says. The blood washes away easily under warm water and Clorox. She rinses the red-tinged mixture from her rubber gloves and watches it swirl down the sink, grimacing at the smell
( ... )
Re: FILLED: Pitter-Patter, 2/2honeylocusttreeJune 4 2012, 20:44:26 UTC
!!!
Very awesome! Great visuals (and kudos on the whole 'old blood turns brown' thing that the show seems to always forget about).
It's interesting to think how many times he would've had to re-injure himself if the shoe-loss thing happened long enough in the past that he doesn't even remember it. Arrgh.
And of course this is my favorite line: "the pale, burning wreck of his face" because it sums up a huge complex reality in a handful of words. Very nice work, enjoyed that a lot.
Re: FILLED: Pitter-Patter, 2/2prufrock_26June 5 2012, 01:58:29 UTC
I was totally about to write red blood. Then I caught myself and gave myself a thorough talking-to, and proceeded to make it Brown as All Hell.
Also: I didn't know foot injuries bothered me, but after I wrote this I kind of felt like I needed a shower, and not in the good way. *shudder* Horrible horrible horribleness.
Re: FILLED: Pitter-Patter, 2/2mad_serverJune 4 2012, 23:24:27 UTC
I'm totally with honeylocusttree on the pale, burning wreck of face. Gahhh, so good! Also, after all these years it can be tricky finding new ways into the boys and the show, and this maid cleaning up after their blood and salt lines is an awesome awesome entry point. Plus, you know I love your h/c sensibilities. Sammehhhhhh. ♥
IS IT BAD THAT I IMMEDIATELY WANT MORE PRUFROCK FILLS?
Re: FILLED: Pitter-Patter, 2/2prufrock_26June 5 2012, 02:21:30 UTC
AH NO STOP YOU ARE MAKING ME BLUSH
Do you know, I almost didn't do the flashback - but then I stopped and thought about it and said, "Dear self, what were you thinking?" I'm glad you approve of the decision. :)
I really hope more fic is forthcoming...these prompts, they are all beauty. My brain got attacked by a lovely complex NT prompt, though, and it's currently going mad on about four fics at once (and this finale? It's gone and made me write extensive Sam angst, and I don't know how to feel about that). But there's still so much here that I want to wriiiiite - I just don't know when or how or what. (Lordy, me and my first-world problems.)
Re: FILLED: Pitter-Patter, 2/2prufrock_26June 5 2012, 13:42:01 UTC
Mmm, nicotine...
Do I really? *goes back and reads comment* (Oops, yes.) Don't worry. I've just been traveling a lot and getting ready for people to move in and sleeping not so much - thus the tone of HALP. But really, I like stress. If I have too much free time on my hands, then I just get bored and lazy as hell (and possibly start shooting at the walls). So this - this is happy stress. *serves tea and jam all round to celebrate life being crazy*
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He isn’t sure if the response is a word, or just pain. The paper towel’s already sodden under his fingers, brilliant and hot with his brother’s blood; he tosses it at the trash can and rips another off of the roll.
“Talk to me, man. What happened?” Dean’s eyebrows jerk together as Sam presses the rough paper up against the swimming mess of his sole; he tips his head back to blink the sweat out of his eyes and laugh, breathless and harsh.
“Lost my shoes.”
“And you just - ” Sam swallows rage, feeling sick. “Just went on without them? When’d you lose them? How?”
And Dean’s eyes freeze over, green and still in the pale, burning wreck of his face.
“I don’t remember,” is all he says. The blood washes away easily under warm water and Clorox. She rinses the red-tinged mixture from her rubber gloves and watches it swirl down the sink, grimacing at the smell ( ... )
Reply
Very awesome! Great visuals (and kudos on the whole 'old blood turns brown' thing that the show seems to always forget about).
It's interesting to think how many times he would've had to re-injure himself if the shoe-loss thing happened long enough in the past that he doesn't even remember it. Arrgh.
And of course this is my favorite line: "the pale, burning wreck of his face" because it sums up a huge complex reality in a handful of words. Very nice work, enjoyed that a lot.
Reply
Also: I didn't know foot injuries bothered me, but after I wrote this I kind of felt like I needed a shower, and not in the good way. *shudder* Horrible horrible horribleness.
So glad you liked it!
Reply
IS IT BAD THAT I IMMEDIATELY WANT MORE PRUFROCK FILLS?
Reply
Do you know, I almost didn't do the flashback - but then I stopped and thought about it and said, "Dear self, what were you thinking?" I'm glad you approve of the decision. :)
I really hope more fic is forthcoming...these prompts, they are all beauty. My brain got attacked by a lovely complex NT prompt, though, and it's currently going mad on about four fics at once (and this finale? It's gone and made me write extensive Sam angst, and I don't know how to feel about that). But there's still so much here that I want to wriiiiite - I just don't know when or how or what. (Lordy, me and my first-world problems.)
Reply
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Do I really? *goes back and reads comment* (Oops, yes.) Don't worry. I've just been traveling a lot and getting ready for people to move in and sleeping not so much - thus the tone of HALP. But really, I like stress. If I have too much free time on my hands, then I just get bored and lazy as hell (and possibly start shooting at the walls). So this - this is happy stress. *serves tea and jam all round to celebrate life being crazy*
Reply
I hope you had good travels! Travels can be so fab.
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Also - why did nobody ever tell me that whipped cream could go with biscuits? I feel like I'm been seriously deprived here.
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Ooh, mountains are pretty! And an excellent place for Dean to get altitude sickness. *twirls imaginary mustache*
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Oh, you don't know the BOOK I could write on altitude sickness. Volumes, I could write on that. Ugh.
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*runs away*
(That sucks about the firsthand experience though! Sad times.)
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“Shut up and look at the mountains, Sam.”
“You feeling okay?”
“They're just mountains,” Dean insists. Through lips the color of limp celery.
“Yeah, about a thousand feet above sea level. You've gotta drink more.”
“Nnnnn.”
“C'mon. Deep breaths.”
“We get down off this thing, I'm staying in Nebraska. Forever.”
“I'll buy you a house,” Sam says, rubbing quiet circles in the back of Dean's jacket as he hunches over. “You can sit on the porch and yell at kids.”
“Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you get to drive now,” Dean's knees mumble.
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:)
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That was... IDEK...älöljäljku...hilarious! And you did it - just like that! MAN!
“You can sit on the porch and yell at kids.”
He would, too, he totally would. I can see him. Grouchy McGrouchpants.
You. Are amazing!!
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