rionaleonhart | I'm Not Very Good At This, Am I?

THIS ENTRY IS NOT GOING TO BE ABOUT INCEST. There has been too much incest in this journal lately.

'TALL TALES': AMAZING. I love it when the writers and actors have clearly had far too much fun with a particular episode. Trickster episodes are the best episodes. (The back-of-DVD blurb was rather amusing, too: Dean and Sam mysteriously start bickering like an old married couple. How sinister! THAT'S - THAT'S NOT INCEST; IT'S JUST A SIMILE.) It sort of makes me want to write an entire fic with Dean in the role of the highly unreliable narrator, but I imagine that would be terribly difficult to keep up for more than three seconds. Also, of course, it would never be able to equal that episode's sheer levels of amazingness.

SPEAKING OF THE AMAZINGNESS OF 'TALL TALES': the two sides of the bar scene on YouTube. SO MUCH JOY. And there are no spoilers! And it's only three minutes long! Meaning that you have very little excuse not to watch it. You like 'two characters tell the same story in different ways' scenes, don't you? Well, you should.

This episode may have made me into a bit of a Sam/Laptop 'shipper. (AND THE LAPTOP IS NOT RELATED TO SAM. I AM STRONG.) Because, you know, their love is true.

HERE IS A QUESTION FOR YOU: if they're both in the Impala, and Dean is driving, and Sam is using his laptop in the passenger seat, is it a foursome? OBVIOUSLY IT IS NOT AN ABSOLUTE FOURSOME, AS NO SAM/DEAN IS INVOLVED. THIS ENTRY IS NOT ABOUT INCEST IN ANY WAY.

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Sam didn't sleep. After an hour or two of tossing and turning he just gave up, lying still on the bed and staring at the woodgrain pattern on the wall.

A few hours in, just when he was drifting, he heard Dean shift on the other bed and pick his phone from the table between them. It was easy to recognize the series of keys denoting their fathers' autodial, and easier to count the moments it took to ring and ring and cut to voicemail.

Their father's voice was soft and distant, filtering out of the phone speaker. Dean's, when he spoke, was rougher, shaking. "Hey, Dad, it's me. I--"

He stopped. Sam closed his eyes, wondering what he could possibly plan on saying.

Dean apparently didn't know, either. He ground his teeth, moving on the bed and dropping his voice. "Look, I screwed up. Pretty bad this time. Missed something pretty important, and--" He paused. Exhaled. "--Sam got hurt. He's still not telling me most of it. I just, if you get this--" Pause. Shift. "God, I don't even know where to begin. But, your journal. That memory-eater thing. We killed it, but it got us both." Pause. Shift. Exhale. Sam was sure he heard him steady his breath; when he spoke again, his voice was rougher. "Look, Dad, if you get this, call me. Okay? Please."

He hesitated before he hung up, and even then it was another minute before he replaced the phone on the table.

Sam kept quiet. Kept still. It was easy enough to play dead, and Dean wouldn't want to know he was awake, anyway.

It was one of the rules of the job: sometimes, you didn't get rescued. Sometimes, rescues came too late. What their father--theirs, not Dean's, not someone nice and safe and removed--was going to do about any of this, Sam didn't know.

Maybe it was for external validation. Tell us what to believe.

Dean rolled over. Sam could nearly feel him staring at the back of his neck. He wanted to say that everything was fine, would be fine, had been fine, wanted to wrap it all up in that nice, safe denial. Nothing could change now, so why not just push it all away? His throat closed up.

"Sam?"

He closed his eyes tighter. Played dead. Nothing to say, no way to say it.

Dean exhaled. "Yeah," he muttered, rolling over again. "Me too."

Moments passed.

"I'm sorry."

Sam didn't make a sound. Dean grabbed the covers on his own bed, digging in. Trying to last the night.

- end -

"I wouldn't forget me. Honestly I'm a bit offended." Hee!

I absolutely love Dean being all 'Pfft, we may be amnesiac, but I don't see why we shouldn't have sex. THERE CANNOT BE ANYTHING WRONG WITH THIS PLAN.' Oh, Dean.

I find the 'oh, yeah, and Adam disappeared. MOVING ON' far too amusing.

Sam and Dean were tired and cranky enough to split up themselves

DO NOT SPLIT UP. SPLITTING UP IS ALWAYS A BAD IDEA.

I am actually wincing at the fight with the Tailypo. Ouch.

Dean stood up, and yelled "Hey, thanks for leaving us out there to die!" at the woods.

Have I mentioned that you write a very good Dean? And "You? Not being dead?" He flashed a grin in the direction of Sam's left hip. "Fuckin' turn-on, man." is brilliant.

I love "Will you stop touching me?" Dean snarled. ADAM'S WORST ENEMY: A MAN WHO DOES NOT LIKE BEING TOUCHED BY PEOPLE WHO ARE NEITHER FEMALE NOR FAMILY.

Also, Adam is so creepy.

I really, really like using tactics Sam could recognize from his own persuasive arsenal.

"Not in my version," Dean said, and Adam looked up into his fist.

ASKFJHGDGDJGDKH OH MAN I AM FLAILING SO MUCH THEY ARE THE WINCHESTERS AND THEY SAVE EACH OTHER AND I LOVE THEM

"Yeah, we don't really need to. Bye, Adam."
"You can't!" Adam yelled, an instant before he fired. "I mean you can't."
"And why the hell not?" Dean snapped.
"Please," Adam said.
"Not a good reason," Dean said.

Seriously, it's a shame you don't like Dean, because you are amazing at writing him.

Sam recoiled. It wasn't a reasoned response, it was conditioned--whatever Adam had left in his brain acted up, made him hit Dean's hand away. "Don't touch me."

Oh, and this distresses me so much. And, of course, it reminds Dean of what happened, and why do I have this simultaneous adoration and hatred of Winchester-angst?

"Look," he blurted, getting the words out as fast as he could, "if you need to talk I'll listen, but if you don't mind, Sam, I'd rather not look at you right now, seeing as how last night I--"

Oh, hearts. Dean and his guilt is a wonderful thing.

Augh, it is so horrible when there's awkwardness between them!

It was easy to recognize the series of keys denoting their fathers' autodial is a really lovely detail. And oh, oh, boys.

I'm Not Very Good At This, Am I?

Re: This may be the roughest thing I've written in three months. ...actually, it felt good.

Re: This may be the roughest thing I've written in three months. ...actually, it felt good.