She couldn't see resemblance in this tall person before her to anyone in her family, or John's, that she remembered. John's dimples, of course, a hint of the cleft in her own jaw, the long arm and leg bones they shared. But he was a stranger, and no matter how mild and meek he tried to seem, an air of danger radiated off him. On the street, her instinct would have been to avoid him.
But, even though her heart found no connection, her brain acknowledged this was her son, the infant she'd held in her arms mere days, weeks ago. And she could read on that face a lifetime of pain and effort and sacrifice--John's journal had informed her of some of it. Castiel had shared even more--things she couldn't bear to think of happening to that baby boy.
It hurt to look at him and know she hadn't been there to protect him, not only from the bad things most folks don't know about, but from the ordinary hurts of life, and yes, even the implacable standards and strictures his father had forced him to live by.
She could feel the residue of all that pain and hardship, but what was worse was that he seemed to have accepted it, to carry all of it with a weary air of having earned it, deserved it. And that hurt worst of all. It scared her to face her failure to have done the least thing to protect her child, in fact to have been the agent who brought it all on him. A weight of guilt so enormous she couldn't stand being in the room with it, or with him, or with her other son, who had suffered equally, and at her hands.
But in those scarce moments when she was able to step away from that burden of guilt, and to lay aside her mourning for the young family she had lost, she could look at Sam and see someone robbed, not only of childhood, but of being treasured, his accomplishments delighted in, of a supporting parent, of a mother's love. And in those moments, she acknowledged their kinship, and made the first tentative effort to reach out to him.
...as I said, wishful thinking.
(I can't get the vid to embed, so you get a link)
In other news, if you haven't seen The Supernatural Parody go now, right now, and watch it! Why are you still here?
In other, other news, the BB grows, apace. Um, though not Shakespearean-ly, for all the use of the word apace.
ETA: Oh, and shoot me now (or, well, don't, because I kind of like it), I've had Wagon Wheel on replay in my head for *days*.
Hey, guys. As you by now surely know, it's been a really emotional weekend for the Supernatural fandom. One of our boys is hurting, and all of us have been pulling together, sending him our love and wishing him the best.
While my heart is broken for Jared right now, the thing that has struck me most over the last 24 hours has been the outpouring of love and support that I've seen circulating. It's been really beautiful and inspiring.
Today on Twitter, yohkobennington started to leave random love for her friends, and that made me think: when is a better time to take stock and remind ourselves how much we all mean to each other in fandom than now? Jared's not the only one going through a hard time, and I think we could all use some cheering up.
So, without further ado, I've decided to create the #AlwaysKeepFighting Love Meme so we can spread love to each other.
I'm offline for most of the rest of the day, or I'd run around like crazy leaving love for folks. Y'all do it, anyway, okay?
2. I have owned a Samulet since Season one, and I frequently wear a skeleton bead bracelet similar and in tribute to the one Dean used to wear.
3. The RL group of fangirls I used to flail and squee with have--every one but me--gone on to other fandoms.
4. My favorite fic is RPS. It was stir_of_echoes who talked me through my initial alarm at J2. And look where that led. *g*
5. My favorite SPN fics are well written gen casefiles, though I love Wincest and Sam or Dean /OMC.
6. I was a complete Dean girl, and went out and watched everything Jensen had ever done--including Devour. I did draw the line at Clownana, though.
7. I fell in love with Sam in Faith, and then deeper and deeper through the seasons.
8. And then I watched Christmas Cottage and Flight of the Phoenix for him (still haven't seen Cry Wolf, New York Minute, or House of Wax).
9. I have SO MANY favorite vids, but the top one is still Passenger Seat. http://meltingconfetti.livejournal.com/
10. No matter where the show goes, I will always love Sam and Dean.
Come share your love!
SPN and SPN fandom have colored every facet of my life, in some way, and I can't imagine where I'd be, what my life would be, without all of you.
People I've met, online and off, have become friends. The amazing fic and vids and art have left me breathless, in tears of either sorrow or anger or joy. Meta sparked by elements of show which often parallel society, those discussions have opened me up to awareness of issues, experiences, and paths I might never have found without this fandom. Fic, in all genres, has explored subjects I never would have thought of, much less approached, and given me the bravery to attempt writing again, after years of silence.
SPN has been a very personal experience for me, one I'm grateful for. But! I also glory and am joyful in fandom itself, in the shared appreciation for pretty men and silly stories and deep affection. I'm awed at fandom's support of those it considers its own, for the outreach of money and talent and effort on behalf of those devastated by a natural emergency, or by personal distress. I love the signal boosting nature of fandom--read this fic, watch this vid, help this fan in need, talk me down from a disastrous act in the middle of towering stress, tell me I'm not a waste of space, and more, much more.
The little show nobody thought would survive on an obscure little network, and the fans who kept it on air, who reached out to each other in love and sorrow and sympathy and joy--you're all magnificent. I love us. I'm proud of us.
Seriously? No, but really? I don't think my last three machines even had a floppy disk slot.
Eh, onward. tappitytappitytappity
Silly me. One doesn't make a request like that without providing an alternative. May I suggest an old standard to use instead, with a little tweaking to tailor the lyrics to the purpose?
it don't say nothin'
but it must know somethin'
'cause it just keeps rollin',
it keeps on rollin' along.
It don't keep canon
or tie up plot lines
and former myth arcs are soon forgotten.
it just keeps rollin' along.
Sam and Dean,
they sweat and strain,
mind and body all achin'
and wracked with pain.
Lay that ghost,
incant that spell,
give up all you've got,
and land in hell (again).
They get weary
and sick of tryin'
they're tired of livin',
ain't scared of dyin'
But ol' Supernatural
It just keeps rollin'
It keeps on rollin' along.
(Apologies to Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein)
They'd be better served putting the considerable useage fee toward some Wagnerian war-for-the-glory of it, long past hope or will operatic or heavy-metal theme of unalterable doom, and dropping entirely the notion or the empty promise of these characters ever earning any peace, at all.