FIC: "Joints", Bobby Dawson
Title: Joints
Author: hawkeyecat
Fandom and Pairing: CSI: LV; Bobby Dawson Gen
Rating: PG-13
Claim and Prompt: Pain; 034: Song!fic; table here
Word Count: 190
Warnings: Derogatory language (one instance)
Notes: I swore I wouldn’t write CSI fic until the summer. Haven’t even had finals yet, and here I am. This isn’t a traditional song fic, in that I’m not directly incorporating the lyrics. They can be found at the end of the piece. Many thanks to amazonqueenkate, who is a CSI goddess, for beta-reading.
Summary: Bobby once ruined his knee. This hurts worse.
Bobby remembers with perfect clarity the hit that ended his going-somewhere football career. He was a quarterback on his university team, big and burly but everyone’s target. He’d leaned back, about to throw to Tom, the open runningback, when someone from the Oklahoma University team hit him from the side, taking him down hard. Bobby remembers the realization that something was very wrong with his knee, that he couldn’t move his foot. The pain didn’t hit him then-endorphins, he thinks now-but partway to the emergency room, agonizing fire shot through his knee, arcing up into his thigh and trailing down into his shin. Torn cartilage, fractured patella, torn ACL, torn iliotibial band, and Bobby saw the pros melt away for a future in a lab somewhere.
That didn’t hurt half as bad as now, Thanksgiving eleven years later, when his father won’t even look at him and his mother is staring, tears running down her face. His sister gets up to give him a hug and kisses his cheek, but his oldest brother just gives him a stony look and says, “A fag ain’t no brother of mine.”
“Honkytonk U”, written and performed by Toby Keith
Available upon request
My grandmother owned a night club
On the Arkansas-Oklahoma line
Mama put me on a Greyhound
And I went to stay with her in the summertime
I'd box up those empty long-necks
And stack 'em in the back and make a ham
Then at night she'd let me sneak out
Of the kitchen and let me sit in with the band
Yes, I have sacks and quarterbacks
And broke my share of bones along the way
I knew it wouldn't last forever
Semi-pro always means semi-payed
I started climbing drilling rigs
I'm oil field trash and proud as I can be, yeah
Then I took my songs and guitar
And sang 'em for a man from Tennessee
I've played every beer joint tavern
From New York City out to Pasadena
Every corn dog fair and rodeo
And sold out every basketball arena
Like to get down with my boys
In Afghanistan and Baghdad City too
I am a red, white and blue blood
Graduate of Honky Tonk U
A star can't burn forever
And the brightest ones will someday lose their shine
But the glass won't ever be
Half empty in my optimistic mind
I'll still have a song to sing
And a band to turn it up and play it loud
As long as there's a bar room
With a corner stage and a honky tonk crowd
I've played every beer joint tavern
From New York City out to Pasadena
Every corn dog fair and rodeo
And sold out every basketball arena
I like to get down with my boys
In Afghanistan and Baghdad City too
Son, I'm a red, white and blue blood
Graduate of Honky Tonk U
Author: hawkeyecat
Fandom and Pairing: CSI: LV; Bobby Dawson Gen
Rating: PG-13
Claim and Prompt: Pain; 034: Song!fic; table here
Word Count: 190
Warnings: Derogatory language (one instance)
Notes: I swore I wouldn’t write CSI fic until the summer. Haven’t even had finals yet, and here I am. This isn’t a traditional song fic, in that I’m not directly incorporating the lyrics. They can be found at the end of the piece. Many thanks to amazonqueenkate, who is a CSI goddess, for beta-reading.
Summary: Bobby once ruined his knee. This hurts worse.
Bobby remembers with perfect clarity the hit that ended his going-somewhere football career. He was a quarterback on his university team, big and burly but everyone’s target. He’d leaned back, about to throw to Tom, the open runningback, when someone from the Oklahoma University team hit him from the side, taking him down hard. Bobby remembers the realization that something was very wrong with his knee, that he couldn’t move his foot. The pain didn’t hit him then-endorphins, he thinks now-but partway to the emergency room, agonizing fire shot through his knee, arcing up into his thigh and trailing down into his shin. Torn cartilage, fractured patella, torn ACL, torn iliotibial band, and Bobby saw the pros melt away for a future in a lab somewhere.
That didn’t hurt half as bad as now, Thanksgiving eleven years later, when his father won’t even look at him and his mother is staring, tears running down her face. His sister gets up to give him a hug and kisses his cheek, but his oldest brother just gives him a stony look and says, “A fag ain’t no brother of mine.”
“Honkytonk U”, written and performed by Toby Keith
Available upon request
My grandmother owned a night club
On the Arkansas-Oklahoma line
Mama put me on a Greyhound
And I went to stay with her in the summertime
I'd box up those empty long-necks
And stack 'em in the back and make a ham
Then at night she'd let me sneak out
Of the kitchen and let me sit in with the band
Yes, I have sacks and quarterbacks
And broke my share of bones along the way
I knew it wouldn't last forever
Semi-pro always means semi-payed
I started climbing drilling rigs
I'm oil field trash and proud as I can be, yeah
Then I took my songs and guitar
And sang 'em for a man from Tennessee
I've played every beer joint tavern
From New York City out to Pasadena
Every corn dog fair and rodeo
And sold out every basketball arena
Like to get down with my boys
In Afghanistan and Baghdad City too
I am a red, white and blue blood
Graduate of Honky Tonk U
A star can't burn forever
And the brightest ones will someday lose their shine
But the glass won't ever be
Half empty in my optimistic mind
I'll still have a song to sing
And a band to turn it up and play it loud
As long as there's a bar room
With a corner stage and a honky tonk crowd
I've played every beer joint tavern
From New York City out to Pasadena
Every corn dog fair and rodeo
And sold out every basketball arena
I like to get down with my boys
In Afghanistan and Baghdad City too
Son, I'm a red, white and blue blood
Graduate of Honky Tonk U