"A Writer And A Fighter"
"A Writer And A Fighter"
Sam/Chuck;...and neither of them have ever been happier.
A perfect couple they are and a perfect couple they will always be, as their differences set them so alike, like two puzzle pieces that have just found their opposite match.
A writer and an avid reader. Or, maybe, a writer and the man he’d always thought to be his own creation. The beautiful hunter he’s always thought to have been crafted in his own mind, a perfect mixture of everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s ever needed, who had suddenly come to life right before his eyes, right before his front door.
Chuck created Sam, or thought he did at least for years, thought about nearly nothing but Sam for all those years, and suddenly Sam was real, was right there for him.
A skinny, awkward absolute opposite of an athlete and a strong, sturdy giant. Sam was always so tremendously amused by the way he could sling Chuck over his shoulder and carry him from room to room. And though Chuck would complain, it was always an empty protest, and that was undeniable.
Someone who was too uncomfortable to ask and someone who knew how to get what he wanted. Sam was the first to throw his feelings out into the open, knowing though that Chuck felt exactly the same way. Sam was always first to initiate a kiss. Certainly the first to initiate anything more. Just until Chuck grew comfortable enough, that is. Or until Chuck saw in his visions that he would.
A prophet and the prophesied about. Not only did Chuck know everything about Sam’s life, he understood. He could see the Sam’s life from Sam’s own view, not the few of a cautious brother or a concerned father figure. He saw Sam’s life as what it was, not what the only others Sam was close to thought of it. Until he and Dean found the Supernatural books, which led to them finding Chuck, Sam would have given anything for just one person to understand. And finding that may have been the best thing that had ever happened in the mess of blood and misunderstanding he dreaded calling his life.
The desperate man who waited and the man who saved the world. Chuck had realized early on that he would never amount to anything important. He was pathetic, he thought, and desperate for anything new and exciting, with nothing to live on but poorly written books about what he’d always thought to be just his terrible, twisted dreams. But them he met Sam, the real Sam, who, along with his brother, showed Chuck that not only were his dreams real, he could help save the world. What Chuck needed was something just a little interesting. What he got was so much more, and the best thing that had ever happened in his lonely, frustrating life, that wasn’t so much of either of those things anymore.
The best thing, and both Sam and Chuck would agree, is how easily they keep each other appreciating their own lives. Sam wonders often what it would be like to have a more grounded life. But the last thing he wants is to be shuck alone all day in a dark room with no company but alcohol and a computer. Chuck often wishes for a more interesting life, or to make a difference. But he’s made his difference, and the last thing he wants is to have the almost daily fatal injuries both Sam and Dean suffer, to fight for his life more often than not, and to have the weight of the apocalypse on his shoulders. They appreciate what they have and take whatever glimpse they can get into the life of one another, and neither of them have ever been happier.
Sam/Chuck;...and neither of them have ever been happier.
A perfect couple they are and a perfect couple they will always be, as their differences set them so alike, like two puzzle pieces that have just found their opposite match.
A writer and an avid reader. Or, maybe, a writer and the man he’d always thought to be his own creation. The beautiful hunter he’s always thought to have been crafted in his own mind, a perfect mixture of everything he’s ever wanted and everything he’s ever needed, who had suddenly come to life right before his eyes, right before his front door.
Chuck created Sam, or thought he did at least for years, thought about nearly nothing but Sam for all those years, and suddenly Sam was real, was right there for him.
A skinny, awkward absolute opposite of an athlete and a strong, sturdy giant. Sam was always so tremendously amused by the way he could sling Chuck over his shoulder and carry him from room to room. And though Chuck would complain, it was always an empty protest, and that was undeniable.
Someone who was too uncomfortable to ask and someone who knew how to get what he wanted. Sam was the first to throw his feelings out into the open, knowing though that Chuck felt exactly the same way. Sam was always first to initiate a kiss. Certainly the first to initiate anything more. Just until Chuck grew comfortable enough, that is. Or until Chuck saw in his visions that he would.
A prophet and the prophesied about. Not only did Chuck know everything about Sam’s life, he understood. He could see the Sam’s life from Sam’s own view, not the few of a cautious brother or a concerned father figure. He saw Sam’s life as what it was, not what the only others Sam was close to thought of it. Until he and Dean found the Supernatural books, which led to them finding Chuck, Sam would have given anything for just one person to understand. And finding that may have been the best thing that had ever happened in the mess of blood and misunderstanding he dreaded calling his life.
The desperate man who waited and the man who saved the world. Chuck had realized early on that he would never amount to anything important. He was pathetic, he thought, and desperate for anything new and exciting, with nothing to live on but poorly written books about what he’d always thought to be just his terrible, twisted dreams. But them he met Sam, the real Sam, who, along with his brother, showed Chuck that not only were his dreams real, he could help save the world. What Chuck needed was something just a little interesting. What he got was so much more, and the best thing that had ever happened in his lonely, frustrating life, that wasn’t so much of either of those things anymore.
The best thing, and both Sam and Chuck would agree, is how easily they keep each other appreciating their own lives. Sam wonders often what it would be like to have a more grounded life. But the last thing he wants is to be shuck alone all day in a dark room with no company but alcohol and a computer. Chuck often wishes for a more interesting life, or to make a difference. But he’s made his difference, and the last thing he wants is to have the almost daily fatal injuries both Sam and Dean suffer, to fight for his life more often than not, and to have the weight of the apocalypse on his shoulders. They appreciate what they have and take whatever glimpse they can get into the life of one another, and neither of them have ever been happier.