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writingbyebonioTitle: Hope for After
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eboniorchid
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Prompt: "070-Optimistic" for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100moods, challenge table here.
Word Count: ~730 words.
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Gen. Angst. Schmoop. Character study. Missing scene. Spoilers for Season 1. Vague spoilers for Season 2 through "Roadkill."
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Sam has a little hope now, though he's not quite sure what it is he's hoping for. Coda to 02x16 - "Roadkill". Sam POV.
Beta:traffic_west was my Beta Fantastico!
Author's Notes: I was supposed to be writing something else entirely. But I liked this, so I'm sharing it. :D
Sam was starting to think that maybe he would make it, that maybe they would make it. He was starting to think that maybe there really were reasons to have hope and that maybe his hope wasn't all that misplaced. Even if Dean didn't believe that there were any higher powers looking out for them, and even if Sam still had a few questions about that himself, there was good in the world. He'd seen it and he'd been a part of it. He didn't know how it worked exactly and he'd never be able to prove anything, but he knew it was there. He could feel it now.
Thinking about making it, though, about surviving to see the end of this fight, about still being something good when the end of the war came, made him wonder about after again. He remembered that conversation he'd had with Dean in Salvation, a moment that seemed to have happened so long ago and so recently at the same time. He had asked Dean what he would do after and Dean had all but said that there'd be no after, just hunting, always hunting. Dean had no cause to look to the future really. His future would be what his present was, what his past was, better, maybe, but not all that different. Sam, though, he'd wanted something beyond the hunt, looking toward some day when this wouldn't be the way they had to live, some day when they could choose some other way to go through life.
But now, Sam wasn't sure what after would look like much at all. There was a tugging deep inside him that made him think they'd get to after, but it gave him no clue as to what that after would be like when they got there. Would he head back to school? Would Dean come along? Would that even work with the feds on their trail? Would they keep hunting together? Would they grow apart? Would Dean grow restless if they settled for a moment? Would he go crazy if they stayed on the move forever? Would they find others to share their lives with? Would they even want to?
He thought about Jess, about Sarah, about Cassie. He'd been hiding from Jess. As much as he loved her, he'd been hiding so much of who he was and he knew he couldn't do that again. He'd been honest with Sarah, like Dean had been with Cassie, though Sarah had taken it better. But having partners who understood what they did, who maybe even loved them anyway, didn't mean they were ready to be a foursome on the road or have neighboring houses in some backwater town.
He felt like he had when applying for college, applying for law school. There was this fog in his mind on the road of his own timeline. He knew he wanted to get there, maybe he even knew why, but he could never quite figure out where there was exactly or how he'd know when he found it. He didn't know what contentment would look like after all this, if comfort would be Dean in the next bed or someone soft in his arms, if home would be shaped like an Impala or like a box with a triangle hat, if lullabies would be his brother's laughs at late-night thrillers or songs given softly to a child of his own.
He knew he wasn't there yet, that there were so many more immediate concerns, but they were all still about making it, about getting to after. So, he just couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, from wanting to know what came next, or at least what he wanted to come next. It felt strange to be fighting so hard to get some place he had no map to and no picture of. It made him wonder if hope was something he should hold onto for reasons other than tainted destinies and unknown afterlives.
Maybe hope was for this, for putting on shoes, for seeing the sunrise, for losing at pool, for spilling Dean's soda, for rolling his eyes, for blushing at girls, for tapping the keyboard, for flashing IDs, for sleeping, for waking up, and for all the time in between. Maybe hope was for tomorrow, for tonight, for the war, yes, but also, for after.
Author:
eboniorchidFandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Prompt: "070-Optimistic" for
100moods, challenge table here.Word Count: ~730 words.
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Gen. Angst. Schmoop. Character study. Missing scene. Spoilers for Season 1. Vague spoilers for Season 2 through "Roadkill."
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really. Nothing.
Summary: Sam has a little hope now, though he's not quite sure what it is he's hoping for. Coda to 02x16 - "Roadkill". Sam POV.
Beta:
traffic_west was my Beta Fantastico! Author's Notes: I was supposed to be writing something else entirely. But I liked this, so I'm sharing it. :D
Sam was starting to think that maybe he would make it, that maybe they would make it. He was starting to think that maybe there really were reasons to have hope and that maybe his hope wasn't all that misplaced. Even if Dean didn't believe that there were any higher powers looking out for them, and even if Sam still had a few questions about that himself, there was good in the world. He'd seen it and he'd been a part of it. He didn't know how it worked exactly and he'd never be able to prove anything, but he knew it was there. He could feel it now.
Thinking about making it, though, about surviving to see the end of this fight, about still being something good when the end of the war came, made him wonder about after again. He remembered that conversation he'd had with Dean in Salvation, a moment that seemed to have happened so long ago and so recently at the same time. He had asked Dean what he would do after and Dean had all but said that there'd be no after, just hunting, always hunting. Dean had no cause to look to the future really. His future would be what his present was, what his past was, better, maybe, but not all that different. Sam, though, he'd wanted something beyond the hunt, looking toward some day when this wouldn't be the way they had to live, some day when they could choose some other way to go through life.
But now, Sam wasn't sure what after would look like much at all. There was a tugging deep inside him that made him think they'd get to after, but it gave him no clue as to what that after would be like when they got there. Would he head back to school? Would Dean come along? Would that even work with the feds on their trail? Would they keep hunting together? Would they grow apart? Would Dean grow restless if they settled for a moment? Would he go crazy if they stayed on the move forever? Would they find others to share their lives with? Would they even want to?
He thought about Jess, about Sarah, about Cassie. He'd been hiding from Jess. As much as he loved her, he'd been hiding so much of who he was and he knew he couldn't do that again. He'd been honest with Sarah, like Dean had been with Cassie, though Sarah had taken it better. But having partners who understood what they did, who maybe even loved them anyway, didn't mean they were ready to be a foursome on the road or have neighboring houses in some backwater town.
He felt like he had when applying for college, applying for law school. There was this fog in his mind on the road of his own timeline. He knew he wanted to get there, maybe he even knew why, but he could never quite figure out where there was exactly or how he'd know when he found it. He didn't know what contentment would look like after all this, if comfort would be Dean in the next bed or someone soft in his arms, if home would be shaped like an Impala or like a box with a triangle hat, if lullabies would be his brother's laughs at late-night thrillers or songs given softly to a child of his own.
He knew he wasn't there yet, that there were so many more immediate concerns, but they were all still about making it, about getting to after. So, he just couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, from wanting to know what came next, or at least what he wanted to come next. It felt strange to be fighting so hard to get some place he had no map to and no picture of. It made him wonder if hope was something he should hold onto for reasons other than tainted destinies and unknown afterlives.
Maybe hope was for this, for putting on shoes, for seeing the sunrise, for losing at pool, for spilling Dean's soda, for rolling his eyes, for blushing at girls, for tapping the keyboard, for flashing IDs, for sleeping, for waking up, and for all the time in between. Maybe hope was for tomorrow, for tonight, for the war, yes, but also, for after.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 08:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-22 06:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 10:06 am (UTC)Nice reflections.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-22 06:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 01:36 pm (UTC)Seriously - love the window you opened to Sammy's inner world, him wondering what will happen next, if he'll ever find someone else than Dean to share that kind of life with him.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-22 06:05 am (UTC)I'm glad you enjoyed your little journey into my version of Sam's mind. Thanks for the feedback!
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Date: 2007-03-19 01:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-22 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-22 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 02:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-22 06:07 am (UTC)