Dean Reads, PG, Dean, Sam
Jan. 6th, 2008 07:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ht_murrayTitle: Dean Reads
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-syndicated.gif)
tru_faith_lost
Characters/Genre: SPN Gen, no pairings, Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Warning: Few strong words, AU for implied learning disability, set after end of Season Two, but no spoilers for Season 3.
Disclaimer: If I owned 'em, the CW would have some serious 'splainin' to do.
Summary: Sam taught Dean to read, three words at a time, with focus and conviction. From Hell, Dean teaches Sam to listen the same way.
Dean Reads
Dean reads, and Sammy listens. Well, Dean holds the book Mommy used to read from and tells Sammy the stories until he stops crying. There's nothing else to do, wrapped up in blankets in the backseat of Daddy's 'pala, waiting for him to get grocery money from from man in the building with Christmas lights on the front. Reading keeps them both busy, so Sammy doesn't know it's dark, and Daddy's not back yet; so Dean doesn't remember how there's no milk for Sammy's breakfast.
The stories are scarier than Dean remembers. Monsters weren't so scary when Mommy described them, soft hair falling over the pages while Dean nestled into her shoulder. But now Dean reads, and Sammy listens. If Dean changes the words, makes witches into aunts and trolls into uncles, Sam doesn't know. Dean figures none of them are real, anyway, 'ts not really a lie. Mommy said there's no such things as monsters, and Daddy says he and Dean and Sam are the only family they need. So, that's what Dean says, too, when Sam listens and Dean reads.
xXx
Dean reads, and Sam listens, rolls his eyes when Dean gets to the part about salting the doorway before bed, because he's heard it hundreds, thousands, a jillion, trillion, times already. Daddy leaves the same note every time he goes, and every night Dean reads it out loud.
Sam only listens because Dean reads.
xXx
Dean doesn't read too good. Sam knows, because he listens. Dean doesn't stutter when he talks, but when he sits on Daddy's lap, book open on the table and a look on his face like he'd rather jab that pencil into his eye than write, Dean messes up the words. He trips, he mumbles, he whispers around the lip he's got bitten between his teeth. He doesn't sound like Dean at all, not when he reads.
Sam knows the word Dean means. He read the same book last night. But when he leans in to whisper it in Dean's ear, Daddy shakes his head. "Go to bed, Sammy," he says.
Sam does, but he can't sleep. Dean reads, Sam listens, and it hurts.
xXx
"God gave us each different gifts, Sam," Pastor Jim says, "and surrounds us with people who complement them. We're stronger woven together than we could ever be perfect and alone. It's all part of God's plan."
Sam's not sure he believes God has a plan. He hasn't read it, not the actual Plan, just allusions to it, in a dozen archaic languages and forgotten dialects, all of which he pronounces perfectly, even inside his head. But he's tired. Tired of the way Dean makes half-hearted jokes at his own expense, pretends his mispronunciations are clever witticisms despite the complete lack of clever and wit. Sam doesn't find anything humorous in the way Dean clears his throat and looks away when Dad gives them research to do. It's not funny that Sam gets answers and Dean gets a headache.
So Sam reads, and Dean listens, and somewhere behind Dean's eyes, a light comes on. Sam reads the words, and Dean hears between them, patterns, colors, and inflections that the two dimensional pages can't capture. Sam reads, and Dean knows, in his gut what the next move should be.
Dean learns to trust Sam's translation and pronunciation. Sam learns to trust Dean's gut.
xXx
As the year draws to an end, they read together. Sam reads a hundred tomes at once, thousands of dusty pages piled at his fingertips, thick with dust and forgotten truths. A line here, a phrase there, all sorted and collated into one giant text titled, "A Million and One Ways Not to Break a Deal with a Demon."
Dean reads three words at a time through a slot Sam cut in one of the jokers out of a poker deck. It's the one thing Sam's learned in twenty-some-odd years of poring over books that actually makes him feel like the answers really are all out there for the finding. All the answers except one.
In the end, Sam saves Dean's pride, but not Dean.
After the hounds have come and gone, Sam reads a thousand benedictions and hopes, wherever Dean is, he's listening.
xXx
Words.
Pastor Jim always said we create our own Hell, that what torments us most lives in our souls. Hell is just geography and, for those who would reap the bounty of 'us', convenience. We bring our own whips, our own chains. Demons only provide the chamber.
Dean's Hell is words-- a thousand signs that clearly point to 'Sam' and 'Out' writ in blood and ash on walls that glow with fire. Signs that Dean can't read. For Dean, Hell is words, and Sam knows, because Dean reads, every night in Sam's dreams, and Sam listens.
Sam can't stop listening, not to the screams, Dean's and those of the evil that rips them from his throat; not to the crackle of fire, always licking closer; not to Dean, stuttering, muttering, whispering as he reads between desperate, agonized breaths.
Dean reads, and it hurts, but Sam listens...a line here, a phrase there...three words at a time. Sam listens.
Sam knows this book. He's read it before. But Dean's never read it to him before. Some of the words may have changed, but Sam likes the ending a whole lot better.
Sam taught Dean to read, three words at a time, with focus and conviction. From Hell, Dean teaches Sam to listen the same way. And what Sam hears? Well, the answers really are all out there, just waiting to be found. God does have a plan, after all.
Dean reads and Sam listens. When the book is finally finished, translated through blood and tears, then Sam reads it back.
Sam reads and the walls of Hell come tumbling down. Sam reads, and darkness is swallowed into light. Sam reads and wins not just the battle, but the Whole. Damned. War.
xXx
When it's over, Sam carries Dean from the rubble. He shouldn't be alive, but he is. That's God's plan. The wayward son finds peace and rest at home in a bed. Sam reads and waits for him to wake up. Well, Sam holds a book, just like the one Daddy used to read, and talks while Dean sleeps.
If Sam changes some of the words, "Stupid son of a bitch. Ever do anything like that again, and I'll kick your ass," well, Dean probably knows. And if Sam doesn't say, 'I love you,' well, Dean knows that, too. Dean reads silence, three words at a time.
The End
Comments Disabled. You Can HZ Ticky Boxes.
[Poll #1116756]
Author:
tru_faith_lostCharacters/Genre: SPN Gen, no pairings, Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Warning: Few strong words, AU for implied learning disability, set after end of Season Two, but no spoilers for Season 3.
Disclaimer: If I owned 'em, the CW would have some serious 'splainin' to do.
Summary: Sam taught Dean to read, three words at a time, with focus and conviction. From Hell, Dean teaches Sam to listen the same way.
Dean Reads
Dean reads, and Sammy listens. Well, Dean holds the book Mommy used to read from and tells Sammy the stories until he stops crying. There's nothing else to do, wrapped up in blankets in the backseat of Daddy's 'pala, waiting for him to get grocery money from from man in the building with Christmas lights on the front. Reading keeps them both busy, so Sammy doesn't know it's dark, and Daddy's not back yet; so Dean doesn't remember how there's no milk for Sammy's breakfast.
The stories are scarier than Dean remembers. Monsters weren't so scary when Mommy described them, soft hair falling over the pages while Dean nestled into her shoulder. But now Dean reads, and Sammy listens. If Dean changes the words, makes witches into aunts and trolls into uncles, Sam doesn't know. Dean figures none of them are real, anyway, 'ts not really a lie. Mommy said there's no such things as monsters, and Daddy says he and Dean and Sam are the only family they need. So, that's what Dean says, too, when Sam listens and Dean reads.
xXx
Dean reads, and Sam listens, rolls his eyes when Dean gets to the part about salting the doorway before bed, because he's heard it hundreds, thousands, a jillion, trillion, times already. Daddy leaves the same note every time he goes, and every night Dean reads it out loud.
Sam only listens because Dean reads.
xXx
Dean doesn't read too good. Sam knows, because he listens. Dean doesn't stutter when he talks, but when he sits on Daddy's lap, book open on the table and a look on his face like he'd rather jab that pencil into his eye than write, Dean messes up the words. He trips, he mumbles, he whispers around the lip he's got bitten between his teeth. He doesn't sound like Dean at all, not when he reads.
Sam knows the word Dean means. He read the same book last night. But when he leans in to whisper it in Dean's ear, Daddy shakes his head. "Go to bed, Sammy," he says.
Sam does, but he can't sleep. Dean reads, Sam listens, and it hurts.
xXx
"God gave us each different gifts, Sam," Pastor Jim says, "and surrounds us with people who complement them. We're stronger woven together than we could ever be perfect and alone. It's all part of God's plan."
Sam's not sure he believes God has a plan. He hasn't read it, not the actual Plan, just allusions to it, in a dozen archaic languages and forgotten dialects, all of which he pronounces perfectly, even inside his head. But he's tired. Tired of the way Dean makes half-hearted jokes at his own expense, pretends his mispronunciations are clever witticisms despite the complete lack of clever and wit. Sam doesn't find anything humorous in the way Dean clears his throat and looks away when Dad gives them research to do. It's not funny that Sam gets answers and Dean gets a headache.
So Sam reads, and Dean listens, and somewhere behind Dean's eyes, a light comes on. Sam reads the words, and Dean hears between them, patterns, colors, and inflections that the two dimensional pages can't capture. Sam reads, and Dean knows, in his gut what the next move should be.
Dean learns to trust Sam's translation and pronunciation. Sam learns to trust Dean's gut.
xXx
As the year draws to an end, they read together. Sam reads a hundred tomes at once, thousands of dusty pages piled at his fingertips, thick with dust and forgotten truths. A line here, a phrase there, all sorted and collated into one giant text titled, "A Million and One Ways Not to Break a Deal with a Demon."
Dean reads three words at a time through a slot Sam cut in one of the jokers out of a poker deck. It's the one thing Sam's learned in twenty-some-odd years of poring over books that actually makes him feel like the answers really are all out there for the finding. All the answers except one.
In the end, Sam saves Dean's pride, but not Dean.
After the hounds have come and gone, Sam reads a thousand benedictions and hopes, wherever Dean is, he's listening.
xXx
Words.
Pastor Jim always said we create our own Hell, that what torments us most lives in our souls. Hell is just geography and, for those who would reap the bounty of 'us', convenience. We bring our own whips, our own chains. Demons only provide the chamber.
Dean's Hell is words-- a thousand signs that clearly point to 'Sam' and 'Out' writ in blood and ash on walls that glow with fire. Signs that Dean can't read. For Dean, Hell is words, and Sam knows, because Dean reads, every night in Sam's dreams, and Sam listens.
Sam can't stop listening, not to the screams, Dean's and those of the evil that rips them from his throat; not to the crackle of fire, always licking closer; not to Dean, stuttering, muttering, whispering as he reads between desperate, agonized breaths.
Dean reads, and it hurts, but Sam listens...a line here, a phrase there...three words at a time. Sam listens.
Sam knows this book. He's read it before. But Dean's never read it to him before. Some of the words may have changed, but Sam likes the ending a whole lot better.
Sam taught Dean to read, three words at a time, with focus and conviction. From Hell, Dean teaches Sam to listen the same way. And what Sam hears? Well, the answers really are all out there, just waiting to be found. God does have a plan, after all.
Dean reads and Sam listens. When the book is finally finished, translated through blood and tears, then Sam reads it back.
Sam reads and the walls of Hell come tumbling down. Sam reads, and darkness is swallowed into light. Sam reads and wins not just the battle, but the Whole. Damned. War.
xXx
When it's over, Sam carries Dean from the rubble. He shouldn't be alive, but he is. That's God's plan. The wayward son finds peace and rest at home in a bed. Sam reads and waits for him to wake up. Well, Sam holds a book, just like the one Daddy used to read, and talks while Dean sleeps.
If Sam changes some of the words, "Stupid son of a bitch. Ever do anything like that again, and I'll kick your ass," well, Dean probably knows. And if Sam doesn't say, 'I love you,' well, Dean knows that, too. Dean reads silence, three words at a time.
The End
Comments Disabled. You Can HZ Ticky Boxes.
[Poll #1116756]
