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layne67Anyone here has read ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elohvee's We Were Twenty? There's like, a gazillion comments to her fic there, surely there's someone on my flist who has read it?
Shinta, Monty, Arabia, Allyson? Anybody? Please? I'm a wreck here. Read that story last night. Stayed up the whole night because I simply couldn't stop and yeah, I'm crying right now.
Do go read if you haven't already. It's utterly and totally ... sublime. Angst and schmoop aplenty. Extreme angst and extreme schmoop, I should say.
Summary : Sam is badly injured, and hunting is no longer an option for him. They choose to stay at a small suburbia in Virginia. Dean gets a job at the local garage while Sam continues with his studies, eventually becoming a lawyer. He convinces Dean to go to night classes and study to become a teacher, because yeah, Dean is good with kids.
But not all is domestic bliss for them. The call to hunt is strong, and Dean starts hunting alone, despite Sam's protests. And Dean, well, he has his own insecurities, too, because he couldn't really believe that what they have now is enough for Sam, and he's still thinking that Sam's going to leave.
It's every small suburban town. Every place Sam's turned wistful and dewy-eyed, every place Dean's scoffed. It slides past the window at the speed limit. A church and a grocer's and an auto shop. A local nutjob psychic and an animal hospital.
Dean pulls down a smaller street by the library. Flat little suburban homes, a place for the young, new families and frail little cat ladies, for the stooped old men who scream at the kids crossing their lawns.
Sam leans into the window. Presses his nose to the glass like a little kid. He says, "Dean?"
Dean flexes his hand on the gearshift. Without purpose, just because. It's a nervous tic he's always had. He sighs and shakes his head. "Shut up, Sammy."
elohvee's We Were Twenty? There's like, a gazillion comments to her fic there, surely there's someone on my flist who has read it?Shinta, Monty, Arabia, Allyson? Anybody? Please? I'm a wreck here. Read that story last night. Stayed up the whole night because I simply couldn't stop and yeah, I'm crying right now.
Do go read if you haven't already. It's utterly and totally ... sublime. Angst and schmoop aplenty. Extreme angst and extreme schmoop, I should say.
Summary : Sam is badly injured, and hunting is no longer an option for him. They choose to stay at a small suburbia in Virginia. Dean gets a job at the local garage while Sam continues with his studies, eventually becoming a lawyer. He convinces Dean to go to night classes and study to become a teacher, because yeah, Dean is good with kids.
But not all is domestic bliss for them. The call to hunt is strong, and Dean starts hunting alone, despite Sam's protests. And Dean, well, he has his own insecurities, too, because he couldn't really believe that what they have now is enough for Sam, and he's still thinking that Sam's going to leave.
It's every small suburban town. Every place Sam's turned wistful and dewy-eyed, every place Dean's scoffed. It slides past the window at the speed limit. A church and a grocer's and an auto shop. A local nutjob psychic and an animal hospital.
Dean pulls down a smaller street by the library. Flat little suburban homes, a place for the young, new families and frail little cat ladies, for the stooped old men who scream at the kids crossing their lawns.
Sam leans into the window. Presses his nose to the glass like a little kid. He says, "Dean?"
Dean flexes his hand on the gearshift. Without purpose, just because. It's a nervous tic he's always had. He sighs and shakes his head. "Shut up, Sammy."
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no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 12:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 02:08 am (UTC)