Fic: And the Sun Rises (PG-13)
Aug. 9th, 2009 04:17 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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spn_summergenTitle: and the sun rises
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tigriswolf
Recipient:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_summergen
Rating: PG13
Warnings: vague spoilers for season four; takes place pre-series; AU
Author's Notes: written to the prompt high-school aged Sam claims he's a time-traveler from the future who has come to warn of the apocalypse. Eventually, John has him committed, believing Sam has been driven insane. Four years later, John disappears and Dean is alone and struggling, trying to make ends meet. Then Sam shows up on his doorstep one day with a fantastical story... I didn’t quite manage all of that, though.
Summary: In the middle of Sam's freshman year at highschool, he comes home one day and is no longer Sam.
Wake up. It’s just a dream, you know that. Wake up. This isn’t right isn’t right isn’t right—
o0o
In the middle of Sam's freshman year at highschool, he comes home one day and is no longer Sam.
Dad doesn't notice. Dean does.
o0o
At first, it’s just little things. Sam knowing things he’s never been told, how to hunt when he’s never been trained, able to hit the bull’s-eye ten out of ten times when the week before, he’d only been able to hit it three.
And there’s this look he gets sometimes, like he can’t believe where he is. And he only ever has nightmares anymore, waking in a scream. Usually Dean’s name, sometimes no, sometimes please.
Dean doesn’t know what to do. Dad’s gone more and more often, since Dean’s old enough to watch out for Sam, but then he starts taking Dean with him, saying at fourteen, Sam’s old enough to stay alone.
Sam is less and less familiar each time Dean comes home. He used to be inquisitive and energetic, always asking questions and flitting from one topic to the next. He used to be alive. Dean could barely keep up with the kid.
Halfway through his freshman year of highschool, though, Sam is solemn and serious. He stops paying attention in class, always scribbling in a notebook that he refuses to let Dean see. He trains for hours each day, where before he’d drag his feet.
“Sam,” Dean asks, at a loss. “What’s goin’ on with you?”
His little brother just looks at him and then away, and mutters, “You wouldn’t believe me.”
Dean badgers him until he tells, and Sam’d been right: Dean doesn’t believe him.
o0o
Sam stops talking. Dad tries his best, but even Dean can’t get Sam to open up. They look at each other across the table while Sam shadowboxes outside.
“I don’t know what to do,” Dean confesses, feeling like a failure.
“After the fire,” Dad starts. He falls silent, clearing his throat, then continues, “After the fire, you didn’t talk for awhile. I took you to a couple doctors, but they said you’d come out of it whenever you chose to and not a moment before.”
Dean studies his hands. Dad drums his fingers on the table. “You know him better than me, kiddo,” he finally says. “What should I do?”
Biting his lip, Dean weighs his options. “He told me,” Dean says quietly, and it stings like betrayal in his gut. “He told me that he’s from the future. That it gets bad, me and you die, and he did some spell. Came back to change things.”
Dad is quiet. “You don’t believe him?” he asks.
Dean opens his mouth, closes it, and looks away. “I want to,” he admits.
Dad nods.
o0o
Dad sends Dean on a solo hunt just after graduation. It’s just a weak spirit haunting a baseball stadium, quick and easy, in and out, salt and burn. Dean doesn’t even get a scratch on him.
He heads home riding high, proud because he’s actually a hunter now, not just a hunter’s kid or a hunter’s sidekick.
But when he gets home, Dad is sitting at the table, face serious, and he says, “Dean, we need to talk.”
o0o
Dad had Sam committed.
Dad sent Sammy away.
When Dean wasn’t there, while Dean didn’t know—he sits at the table for hours after Dad’s calm and rational explanation, after Dad gently pats his shoulder and goes to bed, after Dad just doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s done.
He sits there until he doesn’t anymore, until he rises to his feet and walks out, then starts to run. He runs as the sun rises, till he collapses in exhaustion and wakes in a hospital bed, Dad at his side.
Dean turns his head away and ignores Dad, ignores the doctors, ignores everything.
“Dean,” Dad begs him. “Don’t do this. Not again.”
Closing his eyes, Dean replays the first time Sammy walked on his own.
o0o
Hey, don’t worry, yeah? Everything will be alright. It’s why I came back, to fix what went wrong. To change things. I can do it, I know I can. Wake up. C’mon. It’s just a dream. Wake up for me.
o0o
They’re not put in the same ward, of course. That’d be too simple. Dean never even gets a glance of Sammy. Dad visits some, but Dean ignores him and he finally stops.
Dean should have believed Sam when he finally explained what’d been going on. He could’ve helped. Avoided this. Why would Sam lie? Maybe he was confused, but Dean’s dreams have been weird lately.
It might be the medication, but he stopped taking the pills days ago.
And when Sammy opens the door to his room, Dean isn’t even surprised.
o0o
“Who are you?” Dean asks in the back of the bus, on the way out of town. They’re bundled up in stolen coats, alone. No other passengers except for a sleeping woman and the driver didn’t bat an eye when they slunk down the aisle. Dean thought it odd, but Sam just pulled him into the very last seat.
“I’m your brother,” Sam says softly. He looks away from Dean’s eyes, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “I will be your brother. It’s all confused in my head, Dean, and I don’t—” He takes a deep breath. “I know things I shouldn’t. I remember places I’ve never been. And I can do—I can do stuff.”
He reaches down to clutch Dean’s hand, squeezing so tight Dean winces. “I’ve seen you die. A thousand different ways, and then three final ways, and I can’t—” He brings his other hand up to lightly grip Dean’s chin, turning his head. Their gazes meet and Sam tells him, “I’m not seeing that again, Dean. Not ever. And I’ll do anything to change what happened.”
“Sam,” Dean says helplessly. “Dude, seriously. What the fuck is going on?” Sam’s fifteen. This is—nothing makes any sense.
Sam’s smile is heartbreakingly old. “It will,” he promises. “Don’t worry. Just sleep, Dean. When you wake up, everything will be better.”
Dean starts to say he’s not tired, but suddenly he is. He leans back against the seat, letting his eyes close.
Sam’s still holding his hand and Dean hears him say again, “I’ll fix it, Dean. None of it’s gonna happen. I swear. Even if—I become that, you won’t die again.”
It doesn’t make Dean feel better, but he’s just so tired.
o0o
Don’t worry. It’s just a dream. When you wake up, it’ll all be better. Trust me. None of this is how it should be, and I’m gonna set it right. Trust me trust me trust me—it’s why I came back.
Author:
tigriswolfRecipient:
spn_summergen Rating: PG13
Warnings: vague spoilers for season four; takes place pre-series; AU
Author's Notes: written to the prompt high-school aged Sam claims he's a time-traveler from the future who has come to warn of the apocalypse. Eventually, John has him committed, believing Sam has been driven insane. Four years later, John disappears and Dean is alone and struggling, trying to make ends meet. Then Sam shows up on his doorstep one day with a fantastical story... I didn’t quite manage all of that, though.
Summary: In the middle of Sam's freshman year at highschool, he comes home one day and is no longer Sam.
Wake up. It’s just a dream, you know that. Wake up. This isn’t right isn’t right isn’t right—
o0o
In the middle of Sam's freshman year at highschool, he comes home one day and is no longer Sam.
Dad doesn't notice. Dean does.
o0o
At first, it’s just little things. Sam knowing things he’s never been told, how to hunt when he’s never been trained, able to hit the bull’s-eye ten out of ten times when the week before, he’d only been able to hit it three.
And there’s this look he gets sometimes, like he can’t believe where he is. And he only ever has nightmares anymore, waking in a scream. Usually Dean’s name, sometimes no, sometimes please.
Dean doesn’t know what to do. Dad’s gone more and more often, since Dean’s old enough to watch out for Sam, but then he starts taking Dean with him, saying at fourteen, Sam’s old enough to stay alone.
Sam is less and less familiar each time Dean comes home. He used to be inquisitive and energetic, always asking questions and flitting from one topic to the next. He used to be alive. Dean could barely keep up with the kid.
Halfway through his freshman year of highschool, though, Sam is solemn and serious. He stops paying attention in class, always scribbling in a notebook that he refuses to let Dean see. He trains for hours each day, where before he’d drag his feet.
“Sam,” Dean asks, at a loss. “What’s goin’ on with you?”
His little brother just looks at him and then away, and mutters, “You wouldn’t believe me.”
Dean badgers him until he tells, and Sam’d been right: Dean doesn’t believe him.
o0o
Sam stops talking. Dad tries his best, but even Dean can’t get Sam to open up. They look at each other across the table while Sam shadowboxes outside.
“I don’t know what to do,” Dean confesses, feeling like a failure.
“After the fire,” Dad starts. He falls silent, clearing his throat, then continues, “After the fire, you didn’t talk for awhile. I took you to a couple doctors, but they said you’d come out of it whenever you chose to and not a moment before.”
Dean studies his hands. Dad drums his fingers on the table. “You know him better than me, kiddo,” he finally says. “What should I do?”
Biting his lip, Dean weighs his options. “He told me,” Dean says quietly, and it stings like betrayal in his gut. “He told me that he’s from the future. That it gets bad, me and you die, and he did some spell. Came back to change things.”
Dad is quiet. “You don’t believe him?” he asks.
Dean opens his mouth, closes it, and looks away. “I want to,” he admits.
Dad nods.
o0o
Dad sends Dean on a solo hunt just after graduation. It’s just a weak spirit haunting a baseball stadium, quick and easy, in and out, salt and burn. Dean doesn’t even get a scratch on him.
He heads home riding high, proud because he’s actually a hunter now, not just a hunter’s kid or a hunter’s sidekick.
But when he gets home, Dad is sitting at the table, face serious, and he says, “Dean, we need to talk.”
o0o
Dad had Sam committed.
Dad sent Sammy away.
When Dean wasn’t there, while Dean didn’t know—he sits at the table for hours after Dad’s calm and rational explanation, after Dad gently pats his shoulder and goes to bed, after Dad just doesn’t even seem to realize what he’s done.
He sits there until he doesn’t anymore, until he rises to his feet and walks out, then starts to run. He runs as the sun rises, till he collapses in exhaustion and wakes in a hospital bed, Dad at his side.
Dean turns his head away and ignores Dad, ignores the doctors, ignores everything.
“Dean,” Dad begs him. “Don’t do this. Not again.”
Closing his eyes, Dean replays the first time Sammy walked on his own.
o0o
Hey, don’t worry, yeah? Everything will be alright. It’s why I came back, to fix what went wrong. To change things. I can do it, I know I can. Wake up. C’mon. It’s just a dream. Wake up for me.
o0o
They’re not put in the same ward, of course. That’d be too simple. Dean never even gets a glance of Sammy. Dad visits some, but Dean ignores him and he finally stops.
Dean should have believed Sam when he finally explained what’d been going on. He could’ve helped. Avoided this. Why would Sam lie? Maybe he was confused, but Dean’s dreams have been weird lately.
It might be the medication, but he stopped taking the pills days ago.
And when Sammy opens the door to his room, Dean isn’t even surprised.
o0o
“Who are you?” Dean asks in the back of the bus, on the way out of town. They’re bundled up in stolen coats, alone. No other passengers except for a sleeping woman and the driver didn’t bat an eye when they slunk down the aisle. Dean thought it odd, but Sam just pulled him into the very last seat.
“I’m your brother,” Sam says softly. He looks away from Dean’s eyes, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “I will be your brother. It’s all confused in my head, Dean, and I don’t—” He takes a deep breath. “I know things I shouldn’t. I remember places I’ve never been. And I can do—I can do stuff.”
He reaches down to clutch Dean’s hand, squeezing so tight Dean winces. “I’ve seen you die. A thousand different ways, and then three final ways, and I can’t—” He brings his other hand up to lightly grip Dean’s chin, turning his head. Their gazes meet and Sam tells him, “I’m not seeing that again, Dean. Not ever. And I’ll do anything to change what happened.”
“Sam,” Dean says helplessly. “Dude, seriously. What the fuck is going on?” Sam’s fifteen. This is—nothing makes any sense.
Sam’s smile is heartbreakingly old. “It will,” he promises. “Don’t worry. Just sleep, Dean. When you wake up, everything will be better.”
Dean starts to say he’s not tired, but suddenly he is. He leans back against the seat, letting his eyes close.
Sam’s still holding his hand and Dean hears him say again, “I’ll fix it, Dean. None of it’s gonna happen. I swear. Even if—I become that, you won’t die again.”
It doesn’t make Dean feel better, but he’s just so tired.
o0o
Don’t worry. It’s just a dream. When you wake up, it’ll all be better. Trust me. None of this is how it should be, and I’m gonna set it right. Trust me trust me trust me—it’s why I came back.
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