Oh, the day can only go downhill from here, since your updates to this story are always the highlight.
Before I forget again...dude, tell me that the name Northrup is a shout-out to The Westing Game. Please. Because then I will have your babies.
After Dean's enigmatic and unconscious offer of information in the dark, Sam wanted to look at the rivers. I love that you can make exposition into something lyrical.
"It drives me nuts when you do this," Dean said. "This evasive thing, like you know more than I do or you've got a secret or something, like I've been browbeating you all our lives and you can't trust me with what goes on in your head." I couldn't believe Dean would say something like this, so I'm glad that it's just what he was thinking.
Dean lifted his head and froze, staring at him directly for the first time all morning. "Now you're reading my goddamn mind on top of everything else?" Sam hated the moment of panic that went with the words, on both sides. Oh, oh, Dean. Sweet baby.
"Think for a minute that I'd let it get out of hand or let anybody else hear anything they shouldn't?" That's it, Sammy; protect your big brother.
They stood out there and looked at each other with hair and lashes beaded with the faintest mist of rain, too close to see the forest or the trees any longer. Gorgeous.
"Dude stop fuckin' spying on me!" Dean shouted, stalking away... Oh, my heart is aching for this boy.
"How the hell is it that after our whole lives together, you still can't figure out where I'm headed? I'm not jerking you around." Because he's SCARED, Sammy! He's been your shield your whole life and now he thinks he's breaking down; just be there for him.
He felt some underlying suggestion of weariness but knew it wasn't going to translate itself into an ability to rest; for all he knew he'd go on like this forever, eternal consciousness, unrelenting awareness of everything until putting a gun in his own mouth began to seem like common sense. "I'm lost," he said softly, unaware that it was audible... Oh, so we've gone from aching heart to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp all over it.
"Far...as in geologically speaking," Dean said gruffly. "Geologically speaking," Sam agreed, and if he ever loved Dean more than he did right then, he wasn't sure he would be able to remember it. Aww, I love Sam when he loves his brother.
"Aren't you trying to plug enough holes in this place as it is?" Sam said. HA!
"Is this a late birthday present?" Dean, baby, I'll get you anything you want, any day of the year.
"Neutrinos," Dean said. "Okay, no," Sam said. "And I hate string theory, so don't start." "'I am made from the dust of the stars, and the ocean flows in my veins'," Dean said. "Don't quote Rush lyrics at me, either," Sam said. I have to say it again. I adore how smart the boys are in this fic, intelligent, resourceful, aware.
This was solid ground, this knowledge, and the invocation of his father. I love Dean. His commitment to his family is a wondrous thing.
no subject
Before I forget again...dude, tell me that the name Northrup is a shout-out to The Westing Game. Please. Because then I will have your babies.
After Dean's enigmatic and unconscious offer of information in the dark, Sam wanted to look at the rivers. I love that you can make exposition into something lyrical.
"It drives me nuts when you do this," Dean said. "This evasive thing, like you know more than I do or you've got a secret or something, like I've been browbeating you all our lives and you can't trust me with what goes on in your head." I couldn't believe Dean would say something like this, so I'm glad that it's just what he was thinking.
Dean lifted his head and froze, staring at him directly for the first time all morning. "Now you're reading my goddamn mind on top of everything else?"
Sam hated the moment of panic that went with the words, on both sides. Oh, oh, Dean. Sweet baby.
"Think for a minute that I'd let it get out of hand or let anybody else hear anything they shouldn't?" That's it, Sammy; protect your big brother.
They stood out there and looked at each other with hair and lashes beaded with the faintest mist of rain, too close to see the forest or the trees any longer. Gorgeous.
"Dude stop fuckin' spying on me!" Dean shouted, stalking away... Oh, my heart is aching for this boy.
"How the hell is it that after our whole lives together, you still can't figure out where I'm headed? I'm not jerking you around." Because he's SCARED, Sammy! He's been your shield your whole life and now he thinks he's breaking down; just be there for him.
He felt some underlying suggestion of weariness but knew it wasn't going to translate itself into an ability to rest; for all he knew he'd go on like this forever, eternal consciousness, unrelenting awareness of everything until putting a gun in his own mouth began to seem like common sense. "I'm lost," he said softly, unaware that it was audible... Oh, so we've gone from aching heart to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp all over it.
"Far...as in geologically speaking," Dean said gruffly.
"Geologically speaking," Sam agreed, and if he ever loved Dean more than he did right then, he wasn't sure he would be able to remember it. Aww, I love Sam when he loves his brother.
"Aren't you trying to plug enough holes in this place as it is?" Sam said. HA!
"Is this a late birthday present?" Dean, baby, I'll get you anything you want, any day of the year.
"Neutrinos," Dean said.
"Okay, no," Sam said. "And I hate string theory, so don't start."
"'I am made from the dust of the stars, and the ocean flows in my veins'," Dean said.
"Don't quote Rush lyrics at me, either," Sam said. I have to say it again. I adore how smart the boys are in this fic, intelligent, resourceful, aware.
This was solid ground, this knowledge, and the invocation of his father. I love Dean. His commitment to his family is a wondrous thing.