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citrusjavaTitle: Can You Take
Ship: Dean/Sam
Rating: PG-13ish
Words: around 700
Warnings: Written quickly for the news, and unbetaed + does it count as underage if there is nothing sexual? Also angst and, if you look at it without compassion, partypooping
Summary: Sam is scrolling through articles about a string of disappearances in Normal, when he gets the news notification
Sam is scrolling through articles about a string of disappearances in Normal, when he gets the news notification. Gay marriage in all states.
Sam’s breath hitches, swell of unexpected emotion in his chest, and he swallows, eyes suddenly wet.
~
He’d never would have believed this sort of thing could happen. As a kid, desperately and utterly in love with his brother, he knew he was the only one messed up like him. The only one like him in the whole world.
It turned out he was not the only one, not the only person like that entirely. He’d dragged Dean down with him.
And Dean said that it was good.
~
Dean never understood, really, how come Sam cared that much about what others might say about them. Dean loved Sam bluntly and completely. Everything that ever mattered for Dean was that Sam wanted it too, that Sam was at Dean’s side.
But Sam didn’t have Dad, or hunting, didn’t have anyone in his life. Town after town, whenever Sam made a new friend, he had to lie. Now just Dad’s lies, that Sam could resent, that Sam knew he’d get out of. Every new friend, Sam knew would find Sam disgusting, would never have liked Sam had he knew what Sam was, what he did.
What he wanted.
~
At 15, Sam broke down and cried about it. Dean gave him a deeply worried look, called him Francis for crying and ruffled Sam’s hair.
Told him it didn’t matter. ‘You got me, Sammy, and I got you, you’re my brother, that isn’t going away’.
When Sam just looked up at him, tears dripping backwards as he changed the angle of his face, Dean secured Sam under his big brother arm, and told him how, one day, when they’re maybe 35, and old, the world will have changed so much that anybody would be able to marry whomever they liked.
“And that day, Sammy” Dean said, “that’s gonna be the day I make an honest woman of Baby”.
Sam smiled, more or less, and bumped his knee against Dean’s. “Jerk”.
“Bitch”.
~
So Sam could take that, he told himself he would cope with that. He told himself it’d get easier. But town after town, stretching on for his entire life, for his always, no refuge at big cities, it would always be the same, everywhere, it had worn him thin. He just couldn’t. Pushed through another town and another, loved Dean so much. But he couldn’t keep going through that, isolated, bone deep. Not after years. Not for years.
He left, and Dean couldn’t speak with him for two years.
~
Sam told himself he’d become a lawyer. Would fight for them, would change things for them.
Would come back, and Dean would be with him again like before.
He just wanted thing like before.
Dean loved him again, had never really stopped. But for years Dean would give him hurt, bewildered little glances when Sam was doing something else. For years Dean got twitchy every single time Sam mentioned Stanford, or lawyers, or just the beach. Eight years back together Dean was still reliving Standford.
~
Dean gives Sam an amiable glance, at the sound, hands stilling over their French toast. “Hmm?”
Sam flips his laptop closed. “Nothing” he says. “Nothing”. And he gives Dean one of those attempted smiles that they both know Dean doesn’t buy. “Nothing”.
Dean gives Sam a weird look, but returns to their toast, humming, and it isn’t Metallica, it is Cherry Pie.
Sam isn’t a lawyer. He would not be the one to fight for them - and honestly, he is so tired of fighting.
These days he doesn’t make new friends very often anymore. But Jody knows. And he is pretty certain Bobby knows too, ‘good man’ declarations and all.
They will never get married. Will never be real people. Not as themselves. He knows it is no less hopeless than when he was a kid. No one will come for them, they are alone.
But Dean is humming over Sam’s French toast, and he’s putting in some extra blueberries for Sam, and Sam can take it.
If Dean is in it, it’s enough of a future for Sam.
Maybe he did learn to deal with it better over the years.
Ship: Dean/Sam
Rating: PG-13ish
Words: around 700
Warnings: Written quickly for the news, and unbetaed + does it count as underage if there is nothing sexual? Also angst and, if you look at it without compassion, partypooping
Summary: Sam is scrolling through articles about a string of disappearances in Normal, when he gets the news notification
Sam is scrolling through articles about a string of disappearances in Normal, when he gets the news notification. Gay marriage in all states.
Sam’s breath hitches, swell of unexpected emotion in his chest, and he swallows, eyes suddenly wet.
~
He’d never would have believed this sort of thing could happen. As a kid, desperately and utterly in love with his brother, he knew he was the only one messed up like him. The only one like him in the whole world.
It turned out he was not the only one, not the only person like that entirely. He’d dragged Dean down with him.
And Dean said that it was good.
~
Dean never understood, really, how come Sam cared that much about what others might say about them. Dean loved Sam bluntly and completely. Everything that ever mattered for Dean was that Sam wanted it too, that Sam was at Dean’s side.
But Sam didn’t have Dad, or hunting, didn’t have anyone in his life. Town after town, whenever Sam made a new friend, he had to lie. Now just Dad’s lies, that Sam could resent, that Sam knew he’d get out of. Every new friend, Sam knew would find Sam disgusting, would never have liked Sam had he knew what Sam was, what he did.
What he wanted.
~
At 15, Sam broke down and cried about it. Dean gave him a deeply worried look, called him Francis for crying and ruffled Sam’s hair.
Told him it didn’t matter. ‘You got me, Sammy, and I got you, you’re my brother, that isn’t going away’.
When Sam just looked up at him, tears dripping backwards as he changed the angle of his face, Dean secured Sam under his big brother arm, and told him how, one day, when they’re maybe 35, and old, the world will have changed so much that anybody would be able to marry whomever they liked.
“And that day, Sammy” Dean said, “that’s gonna be the day I make an honest woman of Baby”.
Sam smiled, more or less, and bumped his knee against Dean’s. “Jerk”.
“Bitch”.
~
So Sam could take that, he told himself he would cope with that. He told himself it’d get easier. But town after town, stretching on for his entire life, for his always, no refuge at big cities, it would always be the same, everywhere, it had worn him thin. He just couldn’t. Pushed through another town and another, loved Dean so much. But he couldn’t keep going through that, isolated, bone deep. Not after years. Not for years.
He left, and Dean couldn’t speak with him for two years.
~
Sam told himself he’d become a lawyer. Would fight for them, would change things for them.
Would come back, and Dean would be with him again like before.
He just wanted thing like before.
Dean loved him again, had never really stopped. But for years Dean would give him hurt, bewildered little glances when Sam was doing something else. For years Dean got twitchy every single time Sam mentioned Stanford, or lawyers, or just the beach. Eight years back together Dean was still reliving Standford.
~
Dean gives Sam an amiable glance, at the sound, hands stilling over their French toast. “Hmm?”
Sam flips his laptop closed. “Nothing” he says. “Nothing”. And he gives Dean one of those attempted smiles that they both know Dean doesn’t buy. “Nothing”.
Dean gives Sam a weird look, but returns to their toast, humming, and it isn’t Metallica, it is Cherry Pie.
Sam isn’t a lawyer. He would not be the one to fight for them - and honestly, he is so tired of fighting.
These days he doesn’t make new friends very often anymore. But Jody knows. And he is pretty certain Bobby knows too, ‘good man’ declarations and all.
They will never get married. Will never be real people. Not as themselves. He knows it is no less hopeless than when he was a kid. No one will come for them, they are alone.
But Dean is humming over Sam’s French toast, and he’s putting in some extra blueberries for Sam, and Sam can take it.
If Dean is in it, it’s enough of a future for Sam.
Maybe he did learn to deal with it better over the years.
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no subject
Date: 2015-06-28 02:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-28 10:43 am (UTC)thank you
I suppose Dean has lower expectations from life (maybe a bit thrown after s8) - so for him it's sadder and happier than for Sam - he never dreams about social recognition