snapshots ficlet - Better Man (7/30)
Feb. 15th, 2013 11:34 pmTitle: Better Man
Author: verucasalt123
Character(s)/Pairing(s): John Winchester
Claim: Theme 15 – The Story Begins
Theme: http://verucasalt123.livejournal.com/230174.html
Prompt(s): #7
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own no Winchesters, Singers, Murphys or any other member of the Supernatural cast.
Summary: And he never thought he’d have to ask himself this question.
John honestly thought he knew so many more things about himself, about his family, about the world, than just about anyone else he met. That was why tonight was presenting such a challenge.
Standing in the empty parking lot of a closed bar, he staggered a little. Don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here, the old line flashed through his mind and on another night when he was this wasted it might have made him laugh. Right now, he was just staring at his truck, bewildered that he’d ever think “I’m too drunk to drive right now”. He’d driven when he was hammered a hundred times, maybe more than that. Not with the kids in the car, not really, not that drunk, not that many times, not with Dean and…Sam.
The boy’s name hadn’t passed his lips in the past two days, but it had been hammering away at his brain like a 24-hour highway construction project.
Sam.
His baby. Mary’s baby. Probably the last pretty picture her eyes had taken in before she was gone; snug in his crib, eyes wide open, chubby little cheeks that didn’t go away until he was at least ten. Not that she would ever know that.
How the fuck…years of training and learning about what’s out there in the world, seeing what could happen if you didn’t protect yourself, how could he think he could just walk away and be safe?
How was John ever going to know that Sam was safe? Ever again?
They’d been separated so many times, he’d left both kids behind with other adults or on their own when Dean got old enough to be in charge (eight was old enough, right?) without John being worried. Dean would take care of his brother, there was never any question, especially after that one horrible night in Wisconsin that cemented the boy’s relentlessness in watching over Sam. When he called, Dean could always report Sam’s exact location and it usually wasn’t more than four feet away.
As the years passed and Sam got older, he and Dean had gone together on hunts, leaving Sam in their motel or apartment or rental house. Even then, they knew. Sam was different from his father and brother in so many ways, but similar to them in others. There was no question even then, though. If John called, or if Dean called, Sam was in the place they were temporarily living, after having attended all of his classes, now home and studying or working on an essay or reading just for the hell of it.
John remembered reading just for the hell of it. He used to fucking love it. Before. He looked up and saw a flash of lightning, a screaming coming across the sky just to acknowledge his pain.
Another new question raised as the rain started to fall, one that he would never be able to answer now. Where was Sam? Sure, he could narrow it down to a general geographic location, he could tell you what town Sam was in.
Worse than knowing that he’d never be sure Sam was safe was knowing that he’d never be able to answer that question again. The one he’d asked Dean so many times.
Where’s Sam?
John didn’t know where Sam was. Probably wasn’t ever gonna know again. Sam made his plan, he did what he had to, he snuck around, he found a place to go, he packed a bag, he decided to leave. But he never meant to leave forever. He didn’t do any of those things thinking he wasn’t going to see his family again. So yeah, Sam decided all those other things. But John was the one who decided that last one, and he wasn’t ever going to forgive himself for it. Sam wouldn’t forgive him for what he’d done that night, neither would Dean, not ever.
He sank to his knees on the wet gravel in front of his pickup and cried, begged Mary’s forgiveness for the thousandth time. But John knew the truth – he wasn’t gonna get that either. Not for this.
Author: verucasalt123
Character(s)/Pairing(s): John Winchester
Claim: Theme 15 – The Story Begins
Theme: http://verucasalt123.livejournal.com/230174.html
Prompt(s): #7
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own no Winchesters, Singers, Murphys or any other member of the Supernatural cast.
Summary: And he never thought he’d have to ask himself this question.
John honestly thought he knew so many more things about himself, about his family, about the world, than just about anyone else he met. That was why tonight was presenting such a challenge.
Standing in the empty parking lot of a closed bar, he staggered a little. Don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here, the old line flashed through his mind and on another night when he was this wasted it might have made him laugh. Right now, he was just staring at his truck, bewildered that he’d ever think “I’m too drunk to drive right now”. He’d driven when he was hammered a hundred times, maybe more than that. Not with the kids in the car, not really, not that drunk, not that many times, not with Dean and…Sam.
The boy’s name hadn’t passed his lips in the past two days, but it had been hammering away at his brain like a 24-hour highway construction project.
Sam.
His baby. Mary’s baby. Probably the last pretty picture her eyes had taken in before she was gone; snug in his crib, eyes wide open, chubby little cheeks that didn’t go away until he was at least ten. Not that she would ever know that.
How the fuck…years of training and learning about what’s out there in the world, seeing what could happen if you didn’t protect yourself, how could he think he could just walk away and be safe?
How was John ever going to know that Sam was safe? Ever again?
They’d been separated so many times, he’d left both kids behind with other adults or on their own when Dean got old enough to be in charge (eight was old enough, right?) without John being worried. Dean would take care of his brother, there was never any question, especially after that one horrible night in Wisconsin that cemented the boy’s relentlessness in watching over Sam. When he called, Dean could always report Sam’s exact location and it usually wasn’t more than four feet away.
As the years passed and Sam got older, he and Dean had gone together on hunts, leaving Sam in their motel or apartment or rental house. Even then, they knew. Sam was different from his father and brother in so many ways, but similar to them in others. There was no question even then, though. If John called, or if Dean called, Sam was in the place they were temporarily living, after having attended all of his classes, now home and studying or working on an essay or reading just for the hell of it.
John remembered reading just for the hell of it. He used to fucking love it. Before. He looked up and saw a flash of lightning, a screaming coming across the sky just to acknowledge his pain.
Another new question raised as the rain started to fall, one that he would never be able to answer now. Where was Sam? Sure, he could narrow it down to a general geographic location, he could tell you what town Sam was in.
Worse than knowing that he’d never be sure Sam was safe was knowing that he’d never be able to answer that question again. The one he’d asked Dean so many times.
Where’s Sam?
John didn’t know where Sam was. Probably wasn’t ever gonna know again. Sam made his plan, he did what he had to, he snuck around, he found a place to go, he packed a bag, he decided to leave. But he never meant to leave forever. He didn’t do any of those things thinking he wasn’t going to see his family again. So yeah, Sam decided all those other things. But John was the one who decided that last one, and he wasn’t ever going to forgive himself for it. Sam wouldn’t forgive him for what he’d done that night, neither would Dean, not ever.
He sank to his knees on the wet gravel in front of his pickup and cried, begged Mary’s forgiveness for the thousandth time. But John knew the truth – he wasn’t gonna get that either. Not for this.