alwaysenduphere (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alwaysenduphere) wrote2010-01-24 03:05 pm
alwaysenduphere) wrote2010-01-24 03:05 pm
Entry tags:
fic: right as rain
Title: right as rain
Character: Dean Winchester
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam would tell you to pull over. You think maybe even Dad would. He'd say something like, "I didn't give you this car so you could turn around and test out how well it hydroplanes."
Notes: 904 words. So I wanted to write something about Dean's birthday, on his birthday. Ta-da. Written for prompt 05 of my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_30snapshots table.
"But now and then I find myself
Thinkin' of the days
That (when) we were walking in
The Alabama rain
Drive-in movies, Friday nights
Drinkin' beer and laughin'
Somehow things were always right
I just don't know what happened"
-Alabama Rain by Jim Croce
On the list of things you'd prefer not to do, pulling over on the interstate is damn near number one. Interstates suck, for one thing, too many cars and idiots not paying attention to which end is up, too busy putting on eyeliner and reading the morning paper. It's three a.m. and pitch black and you're pretty sure if anyone's trying to read anything in this darkness they're certifiable. Double sure, considering it's also raining so bad you're not sure if you're seeing white lines on the road or your eyes playing tricks on you from squinting through the downpour.
Sam would tell you to pull over. You think maybe even Dad would. He'd say something like, "I didn't give you this car so you could turn around and test out how well it hydroplanes."
Sam, on the other hand, would just stick more to the facts, saying, "Dean, you haven't slept in two days. You didn't stop at the last rest stop and grab more coffee 'cuz of the rain, so I bet caffeine's not doing you any favors now either." He'd be right, of course.
You slow down to fifty-five, slower than you've driven on a highway in only god knows how long. The road's flooded to the point you can feel the water catch in the wheel wells, jerking the steering wheel back and forth if you're not careful. Combined with the wind, it's an all around shitty situation.
The blind side of a barn in this rain would be a welcome view at this point. You curse the rumble strips as the tires find them for the hundredth time in just as many minutes, knowing that your tires don't really need any more abuse. You're careful to stop, and you definitely don't forget to flip on the flashers, not that knowing they're on is any comfort. If you couldn't see in that mess, surely some dumb ass with a death wish could not see you and barrel right into the bumper.
***
You've never been one for seat belts, the whole restricts you in the car thing not to your liking, so when you wake up with your whole body leaning into one, it's a little confusing. You're pretty sure you buckled it out of some feeble attempt at safety, but the sharp pain where it's digging into your neck tells you that was a terrible idea.
The phone's going off in your pocket, and its some ridiculous ringtone you've never heard, and through your sleepy daze it clicks why you've never heard it. It's the ringtone you set up for Sam two years ago. Your right arm's also asleep from where the seat belt's compressed it against the seat, so your response time is so sluggish you're sure voicemail will have picked up by the time you pry the phone out of your pocket.
You're not even sure what to say when you answer, "hello" just seems so blase, but it's what you go with because what else is there. There's silence on the other side and for a moment you're sure you dreamed that the phone was ringing or that maybe Sam hung up already. But then there's a loud cheer in the background and some scratching noises, and then maybe you wonder if Sam's accidentally dialed you from his pocket.
"Hey," Sam's voice finally comes through loud and clear. "Sorry about the commotion. I called but then my friends...I called."
"Why?" The caffeine withdrawal combined with the disjointed sleep pattern are taking their toll and your head feels like its gonna explode. Rubbing the bridge of your nose doesn't help, but you've gotta do something with your hands that doesn't involve breaking something.
There's more loud noise in the background, cheering, and Sam says "Hold on, I'm stepping outside," before he speaks again. "Sorry, there's a party...Happy Birthday, Dean."
All the days in the last few months have pretty much bled from one hunt into another. "That's today?"
Sam chuckles, but you can hear there's sadness in it too. Could always hear the sadness in Sam's voice. "Yeah, today. My girlfriend, hers is today too. Figured I'd call and say..."
You try to remind yourself that it's good he has a girlfriend, that it's a step toward normal. "Why are you calling me then? It's her party, isn't it?"
"I just needed to make sure you were okay, Dean."
The rain's let up a little, and you can at least see that there's an overpass right up the road, probably with an exit attached. Meaning a hotel where you can sleep. "I'm fine, Sammy. Right as rain." It's supposed to be funny, a joke you'll get and he won't, but anymore there's too many of those floating around and you want to take it back the moment it's out.
There's hesitation in his voice when Sam speaks again. "Okay. I miss you." You force yourself not to say anything, not to say I miss you so goddamned much it hurts to get up in the morning and why did you run away when we were just getting started. "I hope you have a Happy Birthday, Dean. I'll call again sometime. We should...we should talk more." Because we used to talk so much, you think.
"Yeah. Okay. Goodnight, Sam. Thanks for calling." You hang up before you say anything you'll regret tomorrow. Tomorrow when it's no longer your birthday. Today, you're just going to sleep.
Character: Dean Winchester
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam would tell you to pull over. You think maybe even Dad would. He'd say something like, "I didn't give you this car so you could turn around and test out how well it hydroplanes."
Notes: 904 words. So I wanted to write something about Dean's birthday, on his birthday. Ta-da. Written for prompt 05 of my
spn_30snapshots table. "But now and then I find myself
Thinkin' of the days
That (when) we were walking in
The Alabama rain
Drive-in movies, Friday nights
Drinkin' beer and laughin'
Somehow things were always right
I just don't know what happened"
-Alabama Rain by Jim Croce
On the list of things you'd prefer not to do, pulling over on the interstate is damn near number one. Interstates suck, for one thing, too many cars and idiots not paying attention to which end is up, too busy putting on eyeliner and reading the morning paper. It's three a.m. and pitch black and you're pretty sure if anyone's trying to read anything in this darkness they're certifiable. Double sure, considering it's also raining so bad you're not sure if you're seeing white lines on the road or your eyes playing tricks on you from squinting through the downpour.
Sam would tell you to pull over. You think maybe even Dad would. He'd say something like, "I didn't give you this car so you could turn around and test out how well it hydroplanes."
Sam, on the other hand, would just stick more to the facts, saying, "Dean, you haven't slept in two days. You didn't stop at the last rest stop and grab more coffee 'cuz of the rain, so I bet caffeine's not doing you any favors now either." He'd be right, of course.
You slow down to fifty-five, slower than you've driven on a highway in only god knows how long. The road's flooded to the point you can feel the water catch in the wheel wells, jerking the steering wheel back and forth if you're not careful. Combined with the wind, it's an all around shitty situation.
The blind side of a barn in this rain would be a welcome view at this point. You curse the rumble strips as the tires find them for the hundredth time in just as many minutes, knowing that your tires don't really need any more abuse. You're careful to stop, and you definitely don't forget to flip on the flashers, not that knowing they're on is any comfort. If you couldn't see in that mess, surely some dumb ass with a death wish could not see you and barrel right into the bumper.
***
You've never been one for seat belts, the whole restricts you in the car thing not to your liking, so when you wake up with your whole body leaning into one, it's a little confusing. You're pretty sure you buckled it out of some feeble attempt at safety, but the sharp pain where it's digging into your neck tells you that was a terrible idea.
The phone's going off in your pocket, and its some ridiculous ringtone you've never heard, and through your sleepy daze it clicks why you've never heard it. It's the ringtone you set up for Sam two years ago. Your right arm's also asleep from where the seat belt's compressed it against the seat, so your response time is so sluggish you're sure voicemail will have picked up by the time you pry the phone out of your pocket.
You're not even sure what to say when you answer, "hello" just seems so blase, but it's what you go with because what else is there. There's silence on the other side and for a moment you're sure you dreamed that the phone was ringing or that maybe Sam hung up already. But then there's a loud cheer in the background and some scratching noises, and then maybe you wonder if Sam's accidentally dialed you from his pocket.
"Hey," Sam's voice finally comes through loud and clear. "Sorry about the commotion. I called but then my friends...I called."
"Why?" The caffeine withdrawal combined with the disjointed sleep pattern are taking their toll and your head feels like its gonna explode. Rubbing the bridge of your nose doesn't help, but you've gotta do something with your hands that doesn't involve breaking something.
There's more loud noise in the background, cheering, and Sam says "Hold on, I'm stepping outside," before he speaks again. "Sorry, there's a party...Happy Birthday, Dean."
All the days in the last few months have pretty much bled from one hunt into another. "That's today?"
Sam chuckles, but you can hear there's sadness in it too. Could always hear the sadness in Sam's voice. "Yeah, today. My girlfriend, hers is today too. Figured I'd call and say..."
You try to remind yourself that it's good he has a girlfriend, that it's a step toward normal. "Why are you calling me then? It's her party, isn't it?"
"I just needed to make sure you were okay, Dean."
The rain's let up a little, and you can at least see that there's an overpass right up the road, probably with an exit attached. Meaning a hotel where you can sleep. "I'm fine, Sammy. Right as rain." It's supposed to be funny, a joke you'll get and he won't, but anymore there's too many of those floating around and you want to take it back the moment it's out.
There's hesitation in his voice when Sam speaks again. "Okay. I miss you." You force yourself not to say anything, not to say I miss you so goddamned much it hurts to get up in the morning and why did you run away when we were just getting started. "I hope you have a Happy Birthday, Dean. I'll call again sometime. We should...we should talk more." Because we used to talk so much, you think.
"Yeah. Okay. Goodnight, Sam. Thanks for calling." You hang up before you say anything you'll regret tomorrow. Tomorrow when it's no longer your birthday. Today, you're just going to sleep.
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I miss my Sammy and my Dean. <3
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&hearts
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Great imagery for the rainstorm.
I don't think the Impala has seatbelts, though.
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It never crossed my mind that it wouldn't, I just figured they didn't use them. Hrmmm.
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*hands you kleenex*
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DEEEN!!
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I know, I'm trying to write more, I promise! Flufffff is so hard with these boys, though. Not a lot of happy there, you know? D:
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how do you feel about kid!fic? is that fluffy enough? :P I've got some sitting around waiting to be posted from a comment meme way back when.