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Apr. 30th, 2008 03:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
liptonrm_backupSo, I've been debating about whether to post any of this for months now. And I finally decided that in a fandom that is varied enough to include yak fucking (do ya'll remember that? It was hilarious;-) my particular brand of self-indulgence isn't really all that shameful. Actually, it's not shameful at all. So, there. pffffbt
What's this all all about? Once upon a time I had An Idea (inspired by the usual people who cause the vast majority of my Ideas). The basic premise is: what if Bobby had a kid? Being who I am, the kid became a girl and the whole thing exploded into this AU thing. Except I work so hard at keeping it canon compliant that it's almost not an AU at all, especially in my head.
Anyway, I use this Idea as a kind of writing warm-up exercise and I realized the other day that the file is now 37 pages long, officially the largest thing I've ever written. Suffice it to say, I was a little boggled.
And all of that boggling finally pushed me over the sharing edge. I'm sure you all are so grateful that I apparently have no impulse control whatsoever. ;-) Here goes...
Maybe he’d felt sorry for the kid or maybe he remembered what it was like to be small and alone but whatever the reason he hadn’t yelled and he hadn’t picked her up by her scruff and put her out on the road. Instead he’d grunted, “There’s food in the house.” and turned around and gone inside, sure to leave the door open behind him. He hadn’t been surprised, not really, to hear the screen door squeak open and shut minutes later or the silent whoosh of the storm door closed carefully after it.
He also wasn’t surprised, more resigned really, when she passed the first test with flying colors. Reagan came right up to her and offered his head up for a good scratch without even a hint of challenge. Meant the kid was either more dangerous then any kid that size had any right being or she was one of the good ones. It still could go, and had in the past gone past, either way.
Course, she passed the second test when she let some dog that probably weighed more than she did slobber all over her and her only response was a tiny little grin.
The third test came in the form of holy water he slipped into her pop. By the time she took a sip she’d already worked up a mad eating frenzy that didn’t slow an iota after she chugged half the glass. She walked past all of the wards and runes with ease so he figured that she probably wouldn’t try to kill him in his sleep. Either way he’d put her back out on the road come morning. He’d never had any kids, and there was a reason for that. Plus, if the constant strain around John Winchester’s eyes was any indication bringing a kid into this life wasn’t an option, no matter how lost she might look.
She didn’t say anything at all that night, just sat over in the corner with the dog and watched the room. That was all right cause he wasn’t looking for conversation. He noticed the way her eyes lingered longingly over the books piled on the floor but she didn’t try to pick one up which was another thing to be grateful for. He sure as hell didn’t need some snotty kid flipping through his books.
The kid eventually curled up on the couch and fell asleep and he left her there when he decided to turn in for the night. She looked comfortable enough and it was better than she would’ve gotten anywhere else. He did pull a blanket over her, though. It got awfully cold at night.
He was up early the next morning after a night spent dreaming about things best forgotten. He’d expected the kid to still be asleep and he’d make her breakfast and send her on her way. When he walked into the front room she was still huddled on the couch with his mutt, the big traitor, but her head was bent studiously over one of his books. She was frowning in concentration but looked up a few seconds after he walked in the room a couple things like guilt and apprehension flying across her face.
He could actually see her come to some kind of decision, could see the way her chin lifted and her eyes narrowed as she looked directly at him for the first time. By the way her hand was gripping Reagan’s furry side she was nervous but she didn’t let it rule her and he could respect that.
“Can you show me how to protect people from the stuff in this book?” Her voice was quiet but determined and it was not at all what he’d been expecting to come out of her mouth. A question about food, maybe, or a plea to not turn her in to the authorities, maybe even a question about what kind of weirdo kept grimoires scattered around his house, but definitely not what he’d actually heard.
“Why do you wanna know?” He couldn’t help but ask. Her mouth opened and closed without making a sound. He could see the conflict clear as day on her face but she only shrugged and bent her head back over the book. He nodded as if her non-reply made all the sense in the world and headed back to the kitchen to fix some grub.
He watched her later as she calmly and neatly ate the scrambled eggs and toast. Someone somewhere had obviously taught her a thing or two at some point about table manners, she didn’t even throw anything to the dog who was shamelessly begging for scraps by her chair. His mouth thinned as he mulled over what his next step was going to be. There was a puzzle here and he hated leaving things unsolved but he was quite possibly the most unsuited person in the country to take care of some snot-nosed brat.
He watched her as she efficiently cleared her plate and nodded silent acquiescence to her unspoken request to put her plate on the floor for the dog. He sighed silently in defeat when he saw that same little grin break over her face when the dog jumped on her in appreciation. He supposed a couple more days to figure things out couldn’t hurt.
“So, kid.” he said as she picked the plate up off the floor. She looked up at him with wide, solemn eyes. “My name’s Bobby. What am I supposed to call you?”
~~~
Summer, 1991
It’d been months since they’d stop by the salvage yard but they were on their way up to Blue Earth and he knew he was two breaths from doing one of his boys permanent injury if they didn’t all have a chance to get out and stretch their legs. John figured the boys’d get the chance to run around the yard and he’d have the benefit of some adult conversation and maybe they’d all survive the rest of the drive in one piece. Anyway, it’d be nice to stop by and say howdy to Bobby when there wasn’t any sort of emergency hanging over any of them.
He wasn’t surprised to see Bobby out in the yard waiting for them when they drove up. The man knew his engines and the Impala wasn’t exactly subtle. He did notice that that beast of a rottweiler wasn’t bristling by Bobby’s feet but he didn’t make much of that observation, dog was probably occupied elsewhere.
The car doors creaked and the lot of them came tumbling out, the boys first and John more slowly. He could hear ever creak his body made as he unfolded himself from behind the wheel. The boys were already pushing each other around the yard to which sight Bobby only raised an amused eyebrow.
“Boys. Manners.” John ordered and they were standing tall and straight in an instant.
“Hello Uncle Bobby.” they sing-songed in unison and turned immediately to John, an unspoken plea for freedom written plainly across both their faces.
“Hello boys.” Bobby replied gruffly, eyes twinkling in amusement.
“All right, then. Go on.” John released them with a grin and they shot off across the yard shoving and hassling each other as they went. He and Bobby shared identical amused grins as they shook hands.
“So, you got business in the area, John?” Bobby asked when he’d stepped back.
“Nah.” John drawled. “We’re just on our way up to Jim’s place for a couple weeks and were passing by on the way. Figured it was better to let the boys out here than throw ‘em out while I was driving.”
Bobby chuckled. “Well then, glad you decided to drop by.”
John was about to reply when he heard the screen door creak open He looked up in time to see a girl no older then Dean step out, a carefully guarded look on her face. “Who’s this, then?” John asked as she made her way down the steps.
“It’s okay girl, come on over here.” Bobby said to the kid, ignoring John’s question for a moment. When she got up to them Bobby put a hand on her shoulder. “This is Mr. Winchester,” He said and she nodded. “John, this is Rachel.” Bobby finished and John shook the hand that she extended.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said carefully.
“Yes, sir,” she replied just as carefully, her voice hardly more then a whisper.
“Why don’t you run over and greet the boys.” Bobby suggested. She nodded in reply, immediately heading off across the yard to where Dean and Sam were currently daring each other to climb up the closest junker, the dog appearing from somewhere in the yard to join her.
John regarded Bobby silently for a long moment and the man just stood there and took it as calm as may be. “So, see you’re still taking in strays.” John finally said with a wry twist to his mouth. Bobby just snorted in reply and resettled the frayed hat on top of his head.
~~~
“Dean.” Sammy whispered and pointed back towards where their dad and Bobby were standing. “There’s a girl coming towards us.” His voice was mixed with equal parts despair and confusion and more then a little of the whine he always made when it looked like Dean was going to get the last cookie or something fun like that.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, so? It’s just some boring girl.”
“But what if she wants to play with us?” Yeah, that whine in Sammy’s voice was definitely getting louder.
“We’ll just tell her we aren’t gonna have some stupid tea party and she’ll figure out that we don’t want her around.” Dean wasn’t worried. He was an old pro at getting dumb girls to go away.
Sammy’s eyes got big and round when a new thought hit him. “But what if Dad or Uncle Bobby makes us play with her?”
Dean shoved him in the shoulder. “Don’t be stupid. They’d never make us do anything dumb like that.”
Sammy didn’t seem very convinced but Dean didn’t have the chance to say anything else because the girl had already started climbing up the car. She wasn’t smiling but she didn’t look all prissy like some girls did when they got around him and Sammy, so that was something. Bobby’s dog had come up to the car with her but sat himself down on the ground rather than climb up there after them, his tail twitching back and forth in the dust.
“Hi.” She said, standing up on the hood of the car. She didn’t say anything else, just pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stared at them.
“Hi.” Dean replied just as brusquely and returned her stare. He wasn’t going to be beat by some girl.
They stayed like that for a very long time. Sammy got more and more twitchy as the seconds ticked by. He knew that Sammy was going to surrender right before it happened but there was nothing he could do to stop him from opening his big fat mouth and spitting out in one breath, “I’m Sammy and this is Dean and what’s your name?”
“Sammy.” Dean hissed and shoved him in the arm again, this time hard enough for him to squawk an aborted ow.
Something, whether it was Sammy’s neverending dorkiness or the fact that she’d won the staring contest, actually made the girl smile. “I’m Rachel,” she said and she didn’t sound like she was laughing at them at all, like most girls did, which was good because then Dean’d have to push her off the car and he’d be stuck doing laps for weeks and that plain sucked.
“What are you smiling at?” Dean asked with narrowed eyes.
“Nothing.” She shrugged, still grinning. “You just-” she broke off quick, and suddenly looked a lot like Dad did when he was talking about Mom. She cleared her throat. “You just remind me of my brothers.” And now she looked all serious again and Dean felt a little sad himself.
Sammy slipped past him and clambered down the windshield to stand in front of her. He pulled on the sleeve of her shirt and she looked right at him. “Let’s play hide-n-seek.” He turned to look at Dean with those extra big eyes of his. “You wanna play hide-n-seek?”
“Okay.” Dean and the girl said in unison. She was smiling again by the time they all made it down off of the old car and Dean guessed that was okay.
~~~
See? I don't know what I was so worried about. When people I know and admire post things like Jason Teague: All American Boy my indulgences pale in comparison (which is totally my roundabout way of saying if you love crack it doesn't get more cracky than![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
baylorsr's comic book series *points in that direction*;-).
Writing is fun. I think I'm going to go do more of it.
What's this all all about? Once upon a time I had An Idea (inspired by the usual people who cause the vast majority of my Ideas). The basic premise is: what if Bobby had a kid? Being who I am, the kid became a girl and the whole thing exploded into this AU thing. Except I work so hard at keeping it canon compliant that it's almost not an AU at all, especially in my head.
Anyway, I use this Idea as a kind of writing warm-up exercise and I realized the other day that the file is now 37 pages long, officially the largest thing I've ever written. Suffice it to say, I was a little boggled.
And all of that boggling finally pushed me over the sharing edge. I'm sure you all are so grateful that I apparently have no impulse control whatsoever. ;-) Here goes...
January, 1991
Bobby had no fucking clue what to do with the dirty, wide-eyed ... waif who woke up scared and jittery in the tiny space behind the bench seat in the cab of his truck. He's not even sure how he’d failed to notice her there in the first place and how he hadn’t realized she was there until he’d gotten back home and shut the damn thing off, until she’d made some noise and he’d finally looked back to see her huddled up small in the corner furthest from the steering wheel. When he’d seen her back there he’d wanted to curse and scream cause the last thing he needed was for social services to fall on him like some sort of biblical plague.
Maybe he’d felt sorry for the kid or maybe he remembered what it was like to be small and alone but whatever the reason he hadn’t yelled and he hadn’t picked her up by her scruff and put her out on the road. Instead he’d grunted, “There’s food in the house.” and turned around and gone inside, sure to leave the door open behind him. He hadn’t been surprised, not really, to hear the screen door squeak open and shut minutes later or the silent whoosh of the storm door closed carefully after it.
He also wasn’t surprised, more resigned really, when she passed the first test with flying colors. Reagan came right up to her and offered his head up for a good scratch without even a hint of challenge. Meant the kid was either more dangerous then any kid that size had any right being or she was one of the good ones. It still could go, and had in the past gone past, either way.
Course, she passed the second test when she let some dog that probably weighed more than she did slobber all over her and her only response was a tiny little grin.
The third test came in the form of holy water he slipped into her pop. By the time she took a sip she’d already worked up a mad eating frenzy that didn’t slow an iota after she chugged half the glass. She walked past all of the wards and runes with ease so he figured that she probably wouldn’t try to kill him in his sleep. Either way he’d put her back out on the road come morning. He’d never had any kids, and there was a reason for that. Plus, if the constant strain around John Winchester’s eyes was any indication bringing a kid into this life wasn’t an option, no matter how lost she might look.
She didn’t say anything at all that night, just sat over in the corner with the dog and watched the room. That was all right cause he wasn’t looking for conversation. He noticed the way her eyes lingered longingly over the books piled on the floor but she didn’t try to pick one up which was another thing to be grateful for. He sure as hell didn’t need some snotty kid flipping through his books.
The kid eventually curled up on the couch and fell asleep and he left her there when he decided to turn in for the night. She looked comfortable enough and it was better than she would’ve gotten anywhere else. He did pull a blanket over her, though. It got awfully cold at night.
He was up early the next morning after a night spent dreaming about things best forgotten. He’d expected the kid to still be asleep and he’d make her breakfast and send her on her way. When he walked into the front room she was still huddled on the couch with his mutt, the big traitor, but her head was bent studiously over one of his books. She was frowning in concentration but looked up a few seconds after he walked in the room a couple things like guilt and apprehension flying across her face.
He could actually see her come to some kind of decision, could see the way her chin lifted and her eyes narrowed as she looked directly at him for the first time. By the way her hand was gripping Reagan’s furry side she was nervous but she didn’t let it rule her and he could respect that.
“Can you show me how to protect people from the stuff in this book?” Her voice was quiet but determined and it was not at all what he’d been expecting to come out of her mouth. A question about food, maybe, or a plea to not turn her in to the authorities, maybe even a question about what kind of weirdo kept grimoires scattered around his house, but definitely not what he’d actually heard.
“Why do you wanna know?” He couldn’t help but ask. Her mouth opened and closed without making a sound. He could see the conflict clear as day on her face but she only shrugged and bent her head back over the book. He nodded as if her non-reply made all the sense in the world and headed back to the kitchen to fix some grub.
He watched her later as she calmly and neatly ate the scrambled eggs and toast. Someone somewhere had obviously taught her a thing or two at some point about table manners, she didn’t even throw anything to the dog who was shamelessly begging for scraps by her chair. His mouth thinned as he mulled over what his next step was going to be. There was a puzzle here and he hated leaving things unsolved but he was quite possibly the most unsuited person in the country to take care of some snot-nosed brat.
He watched her as she efficiently cleared her plate and nodded silent acquiescence to her unspoken request to put her plate on the floor for the dog. He sighed silently in defeat when he saw that same little grin break over her face when the dog jumped on her in appreciation. He supposed a couple more days to figure things out couldn’t hurt.
“So, kid.” he said as she picked the plate up off the floor. She looked up at him with wide, solemn eyes. “My name’s Bobby. What am I supposed to call you?”
~~~
Summer, 1991
It’d been months since they’d stop by the salvage yard but they were on their way up to Blue Earth and he knew he was two breaths from doing one of his boys permanent injury if they didn’t all have a chance to get out and stretch their legs. John figured the boys’d get the chance to run around the yard and he’d have the benefit of some adult conversation and maybe they’d all survive the rest of the drive in one piece. Anyway, it’d be nice to stop by and say howdy to Bobby when there wasn’t any sort of emergency hanging over any of them.
He wasn’t surprised to see Bobby out in the yard waiting for them when they drove up. The man knew his engines and the Impala wasn’t exactly subtle. He did notice that that beast of a rottweiler wasn’t bristling by Bobby’s feet but he didn’t make much of that observation, dog was probably occupied elsewhere.
The car doors creaked and the lot of them came tumbling out, the boys first and John more slowly. He could hear ever creak his body made as he unfolded himself from behind the wheel. The boys were already pushing each other around the yard to which sight Bobby only raised an amused eyebrow.
“Boys. Manners.” John ordered and they were standing tall and straight in an instant.
“Hello Uncle Bobby.” they sing-songed in unison and turned immediately to John, an unspoken plea for freedom written plainly across both their faces.
“Hello boys.” Bobby replied gruffly, eyes twinkling in amusement.
“All right, then. Go on.” John released them with a grin and they shot off across the yard shoving and hassling each other as they went. He and Bobby shared identical amused grins as they shook hands.
“So, you got business in the area, John?” Bobby asked when he’d stepped back.
“Nah.” John drawled. “We’re just on our way up to Jim’s place for a couple weeks and were passing by on the way. Figured it was better to let the boys out here than throw ‘em out while I was driving.”
Bobby chuckled. “Well then, glad you decided to drop by.”
John was about to reply when he heard the screen door creak open He looked up in time to see a girl no older then Dean step out, a carefully guarded look on her face. “Who’s this, then?” John asked as she made her way down the steps.
“It’s okay girl, come on over here.” Bobby said to the kid, ignoring John’s question for a moment. When she got up to them Bobby put a hand on her shoulder. “This is Mr. Winchester,” He said and she nodded. “John, this is Rachel.” Bobby finished and John shook the hand that she extended.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said carefully.
“Yes, sir,” she replied just as carefully, her voice hardly more then a whisper.
“Why don’t you run over and greet the boys.” Bobby suggested. She nodded in reply, immediately heading off across the yard to where Dean and Sam were currently daring each other to climb up the closest junker, the dog appearing from somewhere in the yard to join her.
John regarded Bobby silently for a long moment and the man just stood there and took it as calm as may be. “So, see you’re still taking in strays.” John finally said with a wry twist to his mouth. Bobby just snorted in reply and resettled the frayed hat on top of his head.
~~~
“Dean.” Sammy whispered and pointed back towards where their dad and Bobby were standing. “There’s a girl coming towards us.” His voice was mixed with equal parts despair and confusion and more then a little of the whine he always made when it looked like Dean was going to get the last cookie or something fun like that.
Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, so? It’s just some boring girl.”
“But what if she wants to play with us?” Yeah, that whine in Sammy’s voice was definitely getting louder.
“We’ll just tell her we aren’t gonna have some stupid tea party and she’ll figure out that we don’t want her around.” Dean wasn’t worried. He was an old pro at getting dumb girls to go away.
Sammy’s eyes got big and round when a new thought hit him. “But what if Dad or Uncle Bobby makes us play with her?”
Dean shoved him in the shoulder. “Don’t be stupid. They’d never make us do anything dumb like that.”
Sammy didn’t seem very convinced but Dean didn’t have the chance to say anything else because the girl had already started climbing up the car. She wasn’t smiling but she didn’t look all prissy like some girls did when they got around him and Sammy, so that was something. Bobby’s dog had come up to the car with her but sat himself down on the ground rather than climb up there after them, his tail twitching back and forth in the dust.
“Hi.” She said, standing up on the hood of the car. She didn’t say anything else, just pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stared at them.
“Hi.” Dean replied just as brusquely and returned her stare. He wasn’t going to be beat by some girl.
They stayed like that for a very long time. Sammy got more and more twitchy as the seconds ticked by. He knew that Sammy was going to surrender right before it happened but there was nothing he could do to stop him from opening his big fat mouth and spitting out in one breath, “I’m Sammy and this is Dean and what’s your name?”
“Sammy.” Dean hissed and shoved him in the arm again, this time hard enough for him to squawk an aborted ow.
Something, whether it was Sammy’s neverending dorkiness or the fact that she’d won the staring contest, actually made the girl smile. “I’m Rachel,” she said and she didn’t sound like she was laughing at them at all, like most girls did, which was good because then Dean’d have to push her off the car and he’d be stuck doing laps for weeks and that plain sucked.
“What are you smiling at?” Dean asked with narrowed eyes.
“Nothing.” She shrugged, still grinning. “You just-” she broke off quick, and suddenly looked a lot like Dad did when he was talking about Mom. She cleared her throat. “You just remind me of my brothers.” And now she looked all serious again and Dean felt a little sad himself.
Sammy slipped past him and clambered down the windshield to stand in front of her. He pulled on the sleeve of her shirt and she looked right at him. “Let’s play hide-n-seek.” He turned to look at Dean with those extra big eyes of his. “You wanna play hide-n-seek?”
“Okay.” Dean and the girl said in unison. She was smiling again by the time they all made it down off of the old car and Dean guessed that was okay.
~~~
See? I don't know what I was so worried about. When people I know and admire post things like Jason Teague: All American Boy my indulgences pale in comparison (which is totally my roundabout way of saying if you love crack it doesn't get more cracky than
baylorsr's comic book series *points in that direction*;-).Writing is fun. I think I'm going to go do more of it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 06:09 pm (UTC)I'd say that you people shouldn't encourage me, but I really, really love the encouragement. *g*
no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 12:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 08:26 pm (UTC)And Bobby raising a kid is never anything but awesome. ;-)
no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 02:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-01 08:32 pm (UTC)=D