MF Luder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mf_luder_xf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2010-11-28 08:35 pm
mf_luder_xf) wrote in crack_van2010-11-28 08:35 pm
Entry tags:
You were just a dream in the back of my head by Kim (R)
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/OFC, Dean/Castiel
Length: ~4,200
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
devilyouwere
Author Website:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
somemyth
Kim calls this a happy ending, yet it hits you like a sucker punch. It's everything you want for Dean: a family, normal, a world saved. But there's Castiel, too, and he can't forget. It's tragically beautiful in its execution and angst. I absolutely cried the first time I read this.
Dean is talking too loudly to Beverley in the kitchen. Castiel is in the living room (sunny yellow walls and white furniture such an odd contrast to the red walls and dusty books drawn in his short memory) with the young boy. He is watching his baby sister play with colourful building blocks, stacking them and knocking them over. The clattering is muffled, drowned by the voices in the next room.
“That's my sister,” the young boy says. “Her name is Melanie.” He isn't disturbed by the yelling. Not as far as Castiel can tell.
“She is beautiful,” Castiel comments. “What's your name?”
“—showing up without even a warning, what the hell, Dean—!”
Castiel looks at his hands. (They are not familiar to him and he almost forgets who he is.)
“David.” He's pulling out green and red cars, blue toy trucks, throwing them to the floor. “Guess what?”
“—seen him in a long time, Bev, God, can't you understand that—”
“I don't know.” Castiel clenches his hands into fists.
“I'm turning four in this many days.” David drops the dump truck he holds in his arms, the plastic making a sickening crack against the wood, holding up ten fingers. They are painted with blue marker. Castiel smiles.
“Melanie's only a baby, though,” David says, almost sneering.
David gets on his hands and knees and pushes the rather impressive pile of plastic toy vehicles to the middle of the floor, half-hearted grunts escaping between exaggerated heavy gasps. Melanie coos from the window, chewing on one of the blocks. Her eyes dance as she looks up at Castiel; they spend a moment looking at each other. She suddenly giggles, a wide, toothless smile, clapping her hands together.
“Do you want to play cars with me?” David asks. He has his hands on his hips and his tone is rather demanding.
Through the partially closed French doors that divide the kitchen and where Castiel sits, he sees Dean stand with his head bent. Beverley is beside him, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Castiel looks away, a vague tugging in his chest.
“Yes, I would.”
You were just a dream in the back of my head
Pairing: Dean/OFC, Dean/Castiel
Length: ~4,200
Author on LJ:
devilyouwere Author Website:
somemyth Kim calls this a happy ending, yet it hits you like a sucker punch. It's everything you want for Dean: a family, normal, a world saved. But there's Castiel, too, and he can't forget. It's tragically beautiful in its execution and angst. I absolutely cried the first time I read this.
Dean is talking too loudly to Beverley in the kitchen. Castiel is in the living room (sunny yellow walls and white furniture such an odd contrast to the red walls and dusty books drawn in his short memory) with the young boy. He is watching his baby sister play with colourful building blocks, stacking them and knocking them over. The clattering is muffled, drowned by the voices in the next room.
“That's my sister,” the young boy says. “Her name is Melanie.” He isn't disturbed by the yelling. Not as far as Castiel can tell.
“She is beautiful,” Castiel comments. “What's your name?”
“—showing up without even a warning, what the hell, Dean—!”
Castiel looks at his hands. (They are not familiar to him and he almost forgets who he is.)
“David.” He's pulling out green and red cars, blue toy trucks, throwing them to the floor. “Guess what?”
“—seen him in a long time, Bev, God, can't you understand that—”
“I don't know.” Castiel clenches his hands into fists.
“I'm turning four in this many days.” David drops the dump truck he holds in his arms, the plastic making a sickening crack against the wood, holding up ten fingers. They are painted with blue marker. Castiel smiles.
“Melanie's only a baby, though,” David says, almost sneering.
David gets on his hands and knees and pushes the rather impressive pile of plastic toy vehicles to the middle of the floor, half-hearted grunts escaping between exaggerated heavy gasps. Melanie coos from the window, chewing on one of the blocks. Her eyes dance as she looks up at Castiel; they spend a moment looking at each other. She suddenly giggles, a wide, toothless smile, clapping her hands together.
“Do you want to play cars with me?” David asks. He has his hands on his hips and his tone is rather demanding.
Through the partially closed French doors that divide the kitchen and where Castiel sits, he sees Dean stand with his head bent. Beverley is beside him, arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Castiel looks away, a vague tugging in his chest.
“Yes, I would.”
You were just a dream in the back of my head