comment fic meme

[mimblexwimble.livejournal.com]

In celebration of Sam's birthday, we're hosting another comment fic meme!

THE RULES

→ Leave a comment here with your prompt. Because it's Sam's birthday, I'm going to say that any Sam-centric prompts are okay, even if there's not much hurt/comfort in them.
→ In your prompt, please state your desired characters or pairings. All genres/pairings welcome, but no real-person prompts.

Example A: “Sam, Dean, gen, set in season 2. Sam has a vision and passes out. Cue caring!Dean and limp!Sam.”
Example B: “Sam/Dean, trauma. Sam is injured on a hunt, Dean freaks out when he thinks Sam might be dead.”

→ Post as many prompts as you like - but one prompt per comment. If you've got a couple, comment with each separately.
→ Prompts can be as short or detailed as you like. Remember though - more detail means less wriggle room for the writer, which might lower the chances of someone picking up your prompt.
→ Go through the prompts! If you find one you like, write a fic for it. There's no limit to how many users can reply to a prompt, or how many prompts someone can write for.
→ When replying to a prompt with your comment-fic, put ‘filled’ in your subject line and then anything else you want, like a title if you have one/part numbers. It’s not a big deal if you forget this step, but it will make it easier for people to find your fic.
→ Anon posting enabled.
→ NO SPOILERS FOR UNAIRED EPISODES.
→ Play nice - no flaming and no character bashing, period. Any comments that break this rule will be deleted without warning.
→ Feedback is catnip for writers. Leave some author-love!
→ No spam comments.
→ Contact one of the mods if you have a question.
→ Spread the Sam love - pimp this meme! Just copy and paste the code below:

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→ Have fun!

THE MASTER LIST

tahirire wrote The boys are in a better place emotionally. Dean thinks past his hurt at what he saw in Sam's heaven, and gets Sam a golden retriever puppy for his birthday.

dime_for_12 wrote 5x03 AU. Sam already said yes. He just doesn't know or remember it. Vessel!Sam, Possessed!Sam, Eeery!Lucifer. Please include lots of Dean.

anonymous wrote After a Narrowly-Averted-Apocalypse, an old friend from Stanford runs into Sam Winchester at a gas station. He's surprised/disturbed by what he sees.

ratherastory wrote Sam discovers an intricate symbol that will allow him to wrench back control from Lucifer. Now he just needs someone to carve it into his back.

maskedfangirl wrote Happy Birthday, Sammy! Pity that it's alternate universe 5x04 and that you're having your birthday trapped inside of your own skin while the Devil ruins the world. Still, it was nice of the guy to sing to you on your birthday and he even got you a gift - he let you wander around in your body for an entire night out in the bleak remains of civilization. Of couse, everyone thinks you're the Devil and you're reviled and feared wherever you go. Worse, you're probably pretty far gone to find yourself weeping at the sound of birds on the wind or the scent of burning tires because it's just been so damned LONG since you've felt anything at all. Hey, I wonder what your chances are of getting Dean on the short wave are?

tifaching wrote The book that changed Sam's life. NOT The Catcher in the Rye or The Outsiders, please.

authoressnebula wrote I kind of have a thing for tired!Sam. And we know from 5x19 he's not been getting a lot of sleep. So, something where Sam is fighting to stay awake, maybe researching or in the car, and Dean's trying to get him to go to sleep?

mute90 wrote Angel/AU Spn crossover in which lawyer!Sam works at Wolfram and Hart. Sam's not evil. Just morally ambiguous in a goofy, adorable way. And now Angel has taken over Wolfram and Hart, and Lorne has instituted staff birthday parties, and it's Sam's birthday. All his work friends are there, and his non-work friends and family are invited, and it's a catastrophe. Dean is trying cheesy pickup lines on Illyria, and Bobby is making awkward smalltalk with Spike, and Castiel and Wesley are having, like, brooding, stubbly, eyesex in the corner, and Sam's pretty sure that still!alive!Jess is developing a crush on his darkly handsome, undead boss. It's the worst birthday ever, and there's something supernaturally not right about the cake...

authoressnebula wrote AU version of 5x10 Abandon All Hope: Sam is the one attacked by a hellhound, not Jo.

dime_for_12 wrote Sam's crazy plan works. He says yes to Lucifer to trap him, and manages to get him into the cage. Somehow, then or later, he is rescued, but he is physically and emotionally messed up from being possessed and locked up with Lucifer. Dean is there for him.

dime_for_12 wrote After a Narrowly-Averted-Apocalypse, an old friend from Stanford runs into Sam Winchester at a gas station. He's surprised/disturbed by what he sees.

sistabro wrote Set in or after Sam Interrupted. Sam and Dean didn't get away and the doctor fills out his threat of sending Sam to a facility that deals with violent patients. Lucifer starts visiting Sam in his dreams.

kalliel wrote The book that changed Sam's life. NOT The Catcher in the Rye or The Outsiders, please. [Part 2] [Part 3]

klutzy_girl wrote A witch the boys meet on a case decides to cast a spell on Sam as a gift for his birthday (she notices the guys have some communication hang ups)--he will not be able to inhibit what he says for a full day. Basically everything he thinks and feels comes spewing out of his mouth without his control. Including many thoughts of self-loathing and doubting Dean could ever love him the same after all that's happened, any other things you want, etc. Sam is mortified and feels exposed and stupid.

anonymous wrote A witch the boys meet on a case decides to cast a spell on Sam as a gift for his birthday (she notices the guys have some communication hang ups)--he will not be able to inhibit what he says for a full day. Basically everything he thinks and feels comes spewing out of his mouth without his control. Including many thoughts of self-loathing and doubting Dean could ever love him the same after all that's happened, any other things you want, etc. Sam is mortified and feels exposed and stupid.

lassiterfics wrote Sam starts smoking at Stanford, a slow but inexorable climb towards addiction. He tries halfheartedly to hide it from Dean after Jess dies, but Dean finds out pretty quickly and is shocked and appalled.

caerial wrote The Winchesters spend a lot of time in Humboldt Park (a predominantly Puerto Rican neighborhood in Illinois) tracking down old contacts. John leaves Sam and Dean in the care of a friend and Sam, precocious child that he is, starts learning to speak around then. But Dean doesn't talk anymore, and John's never around, so Sam's first acquired language actually ends up being Spanish. John's beginning to realize it wasn't just his and Mary's life went up in flames. So what now?

m14mouse wrote A Supernatural/Buffy crossover. Stanford-era Sam and recently-chipped Spike save the world. The problem is Sam has no one to tell and Spike has no one who will believe him. So, Spike comes back to Stanford a year later with a whole bunch of bear to celebrate the day they saved the world. Sam loves the company.

27_jaredjensen wrote Sam, Dean - season five after "The End". Sam is taking the Impala out to get food when he wrecks the car. He thinks this will be just one more thing that Dean will be mad at him about. Then he realizes he's hurt and ends up in the hospital. Dean takes care of him.

27_jaredjensen wrote Stanford era--Sam is sick during his birthday (could be the first one at Stanford or not) but a birthday present arrives that cheers him up.

roque_clasique wrote Stanford era--When Dean goes to check on Sam, he's shocked to be pointed in the direction of a busy club. Turns out Sam's the lead singer of a super-emo rock band (and, yes, he IS wearing eyes liner. AND leather pants). Sam is mortified to see Dean looking like that (he finds being bombarded by female groupies while he croons melodramatically embarrassing and only joined the band to get some cash for school).

greeneyes_fan wrote Gen. Like we all know, Sam gets his arms sliced up pretty bad by the ghouls in 4.19. BUT for some reason, the stitches Dean put in keep dissolving and the boys don't know why. Dean is afraid that Sam is pulling the stitches out himself and Sam won't contradict him because he thinks that maybe the demon blood running through him is eating the stitches away. Either way, Sam's not healing, just getting worst. All ends shmoopily after h/c hi-jinks ensue.

phx69 wrote Ever since his rape on his birthday, he hasn't celebrated. Sam finally gives into Dean's questioning in why.

dime_for_12 wrote Sam suffers an injury that won't be fatal but that will be intensely painful for some time and/or take a long time to heal enough to get back in the hunt if it'll heal at all. Frustration, h/c, and finally he gives up and asks Dean to kill him, because he knows perfectly well he'll bounce back from that much faster.

sistabro wrote Sam, Chuck, booze, and useless college degrees.

Comments

[phx69.livejournal.com]

While Dean is on a hunt with Caleb, teenSam finds himself being unfairly harrassed by a teacher. John knows something is up and when he finally confronts Sam on it, the kid doesn't think his father will believe him. But John does and goes all protectiveDaddybear on the teacher.

Re: 5x20-inspired prompt

[elliemurasaki.livejournal.com]

who the hell knew that I apparently have a thing for torture?

Uh, anybody who read the one where you crucify Sam? (Which was much with the awesome, by the way, I don't think I mentioned before.)

[greeneyes-fan.livejournal.com]

I want! Can't get started until tomorrow, though.

[whatjuliewrites.livejournal.com]

Ooooh! This would be awesome. Poor Sammy! And I always flove GuiltyDean!

FILLED; give it up (but don't ask why); Samifer/Dean; 1/2 (?)

[dime-for-12.livejournal.com]

Okay, so hopefully this kind of fulfills your request. I went with Lucifer being...kind of influenced by Sam's personality. A little bit? Kind of? Anyway, hope you like!

_______


He tastes blood, now. It's a constant trickle down his throat, thick and metallic. It's what he smells, too, until it's inescapable, almost all he can remember.

"Sam."

For a moment the word doesn't register. It sounds blunted, distorted, drawn out. Sam stares at the shape of his brother's mouth, pink lips, white teeth, glimpse of red flesh. It's weird, some cartoon noise, and only when he thinks about screaming it, hoarse and shattering, thinks about fear and the blood he can't get away from, only then does it make sense. Brings him back to the Impala and the quiet, dry air of another Indiana motel. When Dean finally catches Sam's attention, he huffs, eyes flickering to the side. "Christ, Sam. Finally join the living?" There's a wince there. Some minute flinch that Sam can't read, can only twist his lips at.

Smile, he thinks, and feels his teeth sink into the chapped skin of his bottom lip. It's a white-sharp pain, a second of resistance, and he jumps. "What?"

"Nothin, man. Just - I'm gonna get a room. Sit tight." And Dean's up and Dean's out, bow-legged walk up the dusty parking lot, shoulders so straight Sam could break himself against them and Dean would never know, never feel Sam shatter against his own brand of righteousness. Idly, Sam wonders if his brother still prays. Locks himself in dirty bathrooms and spills all his sins out into the air.

Nobody's listening, he thinks, and then he says it. "Nobody's listening, Dean-o." The movement jars his split lip. He feels liquid seep down, any moisture wicked away, leaving it dry and congealed when he runs a finger along his mouth. Nothing comes off but rusty thin flakes. He rubs his finger tips together, grinds the blood into powder.

Ashes to ashes. "Dearly beloved," he says when Dean's shoving open the motel office's door, making his way back to the Impala. There's a key dangling from his left hand, keyring hooked over his middle finger. The sky is gray behind him, a dead, cloudless color. It fades the leather of Dean's jacket, hides the bruises and the hopelessness, although Sam can still see that last one riding his brother, etching into his face, curling his hands into weak, useless claws.

Try winning anything now, he thinks and smiles. Dean throws the key at Sam, then brings the car around to the row of identical rooms. 3 is scrawled out on the cheap, worn plastic in Sam's lap, and he says, "good. You can get some sleep."

"And you can shower."

Sam cocks his head, stretching his arm out slowly until he reaches the handle. He leaves it there for a minute, arm dipped at the elbow and he can feel the rush of energy through his muscles, along his nerves. "Why?"

Dean scoffs, shaking his head. "Fuckin look at you."

Sam does, and that's when he notices the way his clothes stick to him, the spread of his jacket under his back and ass. Streaks of blood run down his sides, mat his hair to his arm until it's pulling uncomfortably. His jeans are long since dried with it. Even, and he almost laughs with it, giddy and happy, his shoelaces are stuck tight to his shoes, and he'll have to cut the damn things to ever get them off his feet.

"Huh," he says, and the grin he tosses out is for Dean, but his brother's face is oddly uneasy. "Well, would you look at that."

Re: FILLED; give it up (but don't ask why); Samifer/Dean; 2/3 (?)

[dime-for-12.livejournal.com]

**

He doesn't know why it bothers him to think about Dean praying. He used to, and he still remembers how it felt to believe in something bigger than himself. It's like an urge, an itch, to reach out and hope to connect. To find a reason. And, if Sam's honest, he's not even sure that's what his brother's doing, anyway.

But there's an intent, a purpose, behind his brother's chronic stillness. His mind is somewhere else, and every time Sam imagines Dean's hands steepled in front of his chest, imagines him down on his knees, imagines a sacrifice that nobody would ever understand, well.

"Stop," Dean says, and Sam just rolls, moves so that his breath hits Dean's bare skin. He watches as Dean's back jerks, shoulderblades sharp and moving beneath his skin.

"No." He walks his fingers down the dip of Dean's spine. One, two, one, two, until Sam gets to the curve of Dean's jean-clad ass. "I don't want to." He makes it sing-song, teasing, he's only teasing, but the thought of Dean shrugging him off, moving away, makes him want to dig in, embed himself under his brother's skin. Warmth and blood, messy screams and Dean giving way.

Surrender, he thinks, and hears Dean grunt when his naughty fingers press deep. Dean's breath is coming faster, and Sam imagines the rabbit thump of his too-fast heartbeat. Can't see his brother's expression, though, because Dean's face is turned away, cradled in the crook of his arm.

"Dean," he says. Names have power, and he wants his brother bent and broken. He's always looked so beautiful that way. "Dean," a second time when he gets no response but determined silence. I could hurt you, he thinks, and suddenly wants to. All the times he's seen Dean bleeding and pleading at the feet of angels, and now Sam wants a piece, too. Let me hurt you.

"What? Jesus Christ." Sam sneers. The tone, he hates that bitchy tone. "What, Sam?"

Sam hums. His fingers are still, splayed against warm, trembling skin. He leans closer, til his lips brush his brother's back. "Good night," he whispers, and the heat of his words burn when they echo back across his skin.

**

Dean drives. Days and days and days of it, miles ground under the wheels of the Impala. Sam watches sunset and sunrise and the crackle pop of storms brewing, all from inside a car that never slows down.

"How far are you going to go?" He says it after Dean's turned on the radio, turned it off, turned it on but low. Then raised the volume. Every way that he could tune it he has, and Sam wants to lean over, say, I know, right into Dean's ear. But Dean's gripping the wheel, almost standing on the gas. Go, he thinks. Go as fast as you can. The storm will come anyway.

"Sam." Dean does that a lot, now. Repeats his name, over and over, staring hard at him. Like he's trying to tell Sam something, or remind Sam. Sam hasn't forgotten, though. He feels himself ebbing and cresting, all peeled back and exposed.

Sam. Sam. Sam.

And Sam wants to laugh at him, or smash Dean's head into the window. Something. But he replies, "okay." And when he closes his eyes, his brother's blood blooms cherry-red on the back of his eyelids. "Okay."

[whatjuliewrites.livejournal.com]

A witch the boys meet on a case decides to cast a spell on Sam as a gift for his birthday (she notices the guys have some communication hang ups)--he will not be able to inhibit what he says for a full day. Basically everything he thinks and feels comes spewing out of his mouth without his control. Including many thoughts of self-loathing and doubting Dean could ever love him the same after all that's happened, any other things you want, etc. Sam is mortified and feels exposed and stupid.

Re: FILLED; give it up (but don't ask why); Samifer/Dean; 3/3

[dime-for-12.livejournal.com]

**

When they finally stop, it's to pull over beside a field. Brown, withered grass, and when the wind barrels down on them he just smells dirt, feels his hair whip into his stinging, teary eyes.

"How fun," he says, and expects Dean to laugh, smile, explain. Dean's just looking at him, though. Broken and tiny, too straight bones busting through his flesh. One touch and Sam could crack him like an egg.

Dean lunges forward, then, drags Sam's head down. "God, Sammy," and there's something about the name that prickles through him, electric currents of unease. God. Sammy. "I'm sorry." Sam thinks Dean's going to kiss him; his mouth is close enough. He can feel his brother's breath against his lips, can almost taste that stale, warm air. He's surprised by how much he wants it, how bitterly he's disappointed when Dean steps back, face wet.

Sam's eyes travel away from Dean, out across the field. The air flickers, blue white streaks racing across his vision, and he can just make out the dirt swirling in the wind transforming into tall, elongated shapes that dance behind his brother. Sweeping back and forth with the hint of wings trailing out behind them. Outstretched and murky, moving closer, reaching long fingers toward him. He wants to scream, but the wind carries his breath away.

"No," he says, but he can't move. There's a humming, a vibration through the ground, running in snaking circles around his feet. The forms multiply - five, ten, one hundred, brutal and burning. Terrifying.

He barely hears it, his brother's quiet "thank you," before the pain hits.

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, I want this. I love truth/inhibition lowering fics.

Re: filled. Part 2 of 2 (others go ahead too, I&#39;m not very good at this)

[elliemurasaki.livejournal.com]

Oh this is wonderful.

Re: 5x20-inspired prompt

[tahirire.livejournal.com]

Uh, anybody who read the one where you crucify Sam?

INORITE!?!?! The whole time I was watching 5.17 I kept waiting for that to happen, BY THE WAY. I totally blame her for traumatizing me for LIFE!

*clings to fellow trauma survivor*

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Why do both of your prompts have to be so awesome? ARGH you are too fantastic, this is why.

Will probably be doing both. Not at the moment, though; it's nearly midnight where I'm at. Sleep, then writing, yisyis?

~Nebula

Re: FILLED; give it up (but don't ask why); Samifer/Dean; 3/3

[tifaching.livejournal.com]

Oh. Oh. That was fantastic. Dean knows, Lucifer. He knows Sam and he knows you ain't him. Loved all the thoughts Lucifer had. Especially loved the end. Heartbreaking. Great fic!

[tahirire.livejournal.com]

I keep staring at it, but I feel like she wrote it already, LOL.

Re: FILLED; give it up (but don&#39;t ask why); Samifer/Dean; 3/3

[dime-for-12.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I really wanted that - Dean knowing just what this person was sitting next to him, while Sam/Lucifer himself wasn't quite as certain who he really was.

Glad you liked!

Not Asleep On the Road, 1/2

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

I've promised a few other fics but they're getting long, and this one just screams at me. So.

-------------

The car's uncomfortable. Sam wonders exactly just how long it's been uncomfortable, this brand of uncomfortable, and how he's never quite noticed until this exact moment. It's digging into his back, keeping him upright and awake when his eyes burn and beg for sleep.

It's perfect.

The book in his lap has words that are blurring and dancing, and unless the book's cursed or magical, Sam's pretty certain that's indicative of his not-sleeping, too. It's just hard to sleep these days, that's all. He can sleep when he's dead. Right now, he's got an apocalypse to stop, an apocalypse he started. Sleeping isn't a luxury he should be afforded, and his brother of all people should understand that.

Except, somehow, Dean didn't get the memo.

His brother's yawning for the third time in less than ten minutes, and the sight and sound finally make Sam yawn too. Bastard. "Lookin' pretty tired there, Sammy," Dean says, as if surprised. Yeah right: more like seizing his chance. "You should get some sleep. Nice long drive, won't be stopping for awhile."

"I'm good, thanks," Sam says, shifting once more until he's uncomfortable again. Stupid seat keeps molding to his body perfectly, leather soft and familiar with his shape after all these years.

Dean doesn't say anything for the next three miles, and Sam finally discovers a spot that's perfectly uncomfortable. The small flare of pain that shoots up his spine is enough to wake him right back up, even when his eyes had begun to droop. Good. The last thing he needs is sleep. The last thing he needs to see is Lucifer in his dreams, doing everything he can to make Sam say yes. Breaking Dean open just to pull the one word from his lips. There's always blood, always, and he'd rather stay awake for hours then sleep for a single minute of it. Imagining Dean in Hell was a familiar nightmare enough, thank you very much.

Something soft bumps into his shoulder. Sam frowns and turns towards his brother, only to see his brother's leather jacket. Already folded up in a perfect pillow shape. "Thought it might let you sleep a little better," Dean says. Before Sam can protest Dean's tucking it into the seat and the window, right where Sam's head would go. If he was sleeping.

Which he's not. No sleep here. Nope, nuh-uh, no nightmares this way.

Not Asleep On the Road, 2/2

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

"Not tired," Sam tells him, and it sounds more like a petulant response of a nap-deprived four year old. Fantastic.

Dean, for once, doesn't comment on it. "Here," he says instead, and the next thing Sam knows is that there's a blanket in his lap. A really soft one, one that smells fresh and clean and new. One that suddenly reminds him of the suspicious looking shape in the Wal-Mart bag Dean bought just that morning.

Bastard.

"I'm not-"

"Tired, I know," Dean says, and he's serious now. "But you didn't sleep well three nights ago, you barely got two hours two days ago, and last night you didn't sleep at all. Your dark circles have circles, and...look, I'm worried about you, okay? You need sleep, Sammy," Dean pleads, turning away from the road to look at him and pin him with the very big-brother-worried face. "You need to talk to me in a girly manner, that's fine, so long as you catch a few z's."

Hell. "It's not that, I..." The blanket feels soft and warm in his lap, and the urge to lean into the leather jacket-pillow is growing with each moment. He is tired, bone tired, and he wants to sleep. The nightmares won't quit, though, and he knows it.

"I won't sleep long," he admits softly. "I'll just wake up because of..." Saying "nightmares" or "bad dreams" out loud just doesn't convey the bad things that'll happen.

Dean's already reaching for the tape player, though, and soon Styx is playing through the speakers. One of Sam's favorite bands, and Sam smiles softly. "I'll wake you up if something happens," Dean says casually. I got you, is the unspoken promise.

His brother had him at "Sammy," and they both know it. Sam lets his head rest on the pillow and closes his burning eyes. The lids are heavy and he lets out a sigh of relief when they close. His body twists back into a comfortable position, and he can feel Dean tugging the blanket up just a little bit higher. Not because it's particularly cold out, but just because he can.

"Thank you," seems silly. They don't do that unless it's earth-shattering, life and death. "Can't believe you bought me a fleece blanket," Sam murmurs, already half asleep.

"You should be grateful it wasn't pink," Dean retorts, but there's a smile in his voice, Sam can hear it.

For the first time in weeks, Sam doesn't dream at all.

~Nebula

[pinkphoenix1985.livejournal.com]

nope be my guest ;)

Re: Not Asleep On the Road, 2/2

[whitereflection.livejournal.com]

I'm just gonna...like hug this fic awhile. Then wrap myself in it, like it's that fleece blanket. ♥♥♥

Filled: Atticus

[tifaching.livejournal.com]

“Really, “ Dean drawled mockingly. “Really, Sam? You really think these are normal people?”

“They are, Dean! It’s just them and their dad and they live in one place and go to one school and have the same friends all year long. Dad could stay in one place and get a job and we could be normal too.”

“Did their mom burn to death on a ceiling? Is that why they don’t have a mom?”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“Well, is it?”

“It doesn’t say what happened to her. “

“But you’re sure she died in some normal way.”

“Everyone else I know who doesn’t have a mom had their mom die in some normal way.”

“Yeah, so they say,” Dean muttered darkly. “Look, Sam, would you really want this Atticus guy for a dad?”

“I pretty much want anyone but our dad as a dad, but yeah. If I could pick a dad, I’d pick him.”

Dean’s expression went from mad to hurt, but all he said was, “Why?”

“Because he’s smart.”

“Dad’s smart”

“Because he can shoot.”

Dean just cocked an eyebrow at that one.

“And he helps people, Dean. People in trouble. People who can’t help themselves.”

“What exactly do you think Dad does, Sam? Doesn’t he help people in trouble who can’t help themselves? He does, Sam. You know he does!”

“You know what the difference is, Dean? Atticus manages to help people in trouble and be there for his kids at the same time. Our dad’s never here for us. Never.”

“He let his kids get attacked by some whack- job hillbilly with a knife! That was being there for them?”

“When his kids came home hurt he was there. He made sure a doctor came to take care of them and he stayed with them until he knew they were all right.”

“So?”

“So what happened last month when that angry spirit practically ripped your lungs out?”

“Sam.”

“What happened, Dean?”

“I was fine.”

“You weren’t fine, you were bleeding all over the place and Dad left you here to stitch yourself up while he went to salt and burn the bones.”

Dean just shook his head. “He had to do that, Sam.”

“He didn’t have to do it right that second. He could have stayed and taken care of you. Atticus would never have left Jem or Scout after they got hurt.”

“Atticus isn’t real, Sam! Their nice, normal life isn’t real! You want that though? You really want that? Okay, Sam. You can be the normal kid who almost gets stabbed to death while dressed as a ham, though. ‘Cause what’s more normal than that? I’ll be the normal kid who heroically tries to save his younger sister-that’s definitely you, Sammy. Yeah, I’m starting to see this. I won’t get my arm broken, though. No hick with a knife is going to take me out. No weirdo from down the block is going to save you either. You don’t need anybody looking out for you but me and Dad. Oh, sorry, I mean me and Atticus.”

Dean slammed out the door, shaking his head and Sam just watched him go. He picked up his battered copy of To Kill A Mockingbird from the couch where Dean had tossed it. The book had been assigned reading two schools ago, but Sam had stuffed it into his duffle and made sure he had taken it along when they moved. The story of the country lawyer who worked hard helping people, but was still always there for his children had just resonated with Sam and he had given the book to Dean to read too. Dean couldn’t see it though. See that there were other ways to help people, other ways to live. Sam knew he was smart, knew he had a chance to get out if he played his cards right. And now he knew what he wanted to do after he made his escape. He wanted to help people, have a normal life, and be there for his family. He wanted to be Atticus Finch.

Re: post-apocalypse

[pkwench.livejournal.com]

I and my second identity think that this might be something we'd like. It'll be a week from Wednesday until there's time to dig in, but I'm all over it. :D

[pkwench.livejournal.com]

D'oh! LOL

[pkwench.livejournal.com]

*pokes* If I give you my best puppy eyes, will you? :D

[tifaching.livejournal.com]

I'm surprised you'd ask since the last fic I promised you is still sitting half done on my laptop. But, that one's more complicated and this is right up my alley. I'll do it!

[ratherastory.livejournal.com]

*works on new fic*