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blue_bells» Title: The Peanut Gallery in the Glade
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: Mild Spoilers for Season 5
» Pairing(s)/Characters: John/Mary, Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel
» Summary: John and Mary watch their sons from the afterlife and make commentary on their love lives.
» A/N: Written here for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
measuringlife in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comment_fic, because I don't understand Sam/Gabriel either, but I can see the functional benefits from an Operational Health and Safety perspective.
John doesn’t approve.
As a father, he can appreciate that his boys have each found someone in addition to watch their backs, who can carry their share of their load (and then some).
As a hunter, he can’t appreciate the way their choices have softened the boys he worked so hard to mould into self-reliant hunters of renown. Getting all sensitive and... considerate....
“Oh, shut up, John,” Mary admonishes, the cotton of her dress brushing his hand as she slides her arm through his. “It’s been too long since you remembered the symptoms of happiness.”
He turns away from the pond in the glade showing him their boys on Earth. He gives her a look that clearly questions why they aren't on the same page, to which she raises an eyebrow and kisses him fondly. It’s a moment before John relaxes, because now, even in the afterlife absent of hellfire with Mary at his side and bunnies skipping in the undergrowth, it’s hard to trust this happiness.
He sighs against her lips, feeling her hands on his arms, but she pulls back a moment later. When he opens his eyes, he sees that Mary’s eyes are dancing with laughter.
“Oh, John, if you could see yourself right now,” Mary coos, stroking his cheek, “All that manly sensitivity to my influence, it makes a lady swoon.”
Mary shakes in his arms as she laughs and he can’t help but join her. True, easy joy is starting to feel familiar again, oh and it’s so good. A wave of sadness comes over him; it’s sad, it’s pathetic that this feeling became so foreign to him and his boys.
He looks at the pond again where Dean is sitting on the bed at a motel, the Winchester arsenal spread around him. Across from him is that angel, Castiel, his face pinched in soft concentration as Dean shows him how to clean the guns with meticulous, but efficient, care. Dean’s face shines with pride and no secret affection as Castiel accepts the cleaning rag to show what he’s learned.
John nods at the image. “That angel saved Dean from the pit, even marked him as his own.”
Beside him, Mary is chuckling at his expense.
“Castiel saved Dean! He saved his soul, this,” John waves at the pond, “Ain’t no big surprise. But Sammy – !”
The image in the pond ripples with change to show Sam reclining on the hood of the Impala in the parking lot of the motel at night, another angel is standing between his knees. Gabriel is swept up regaling Sam with some tale of probable mischief, maybe how he most recently conned the highest ranks of Heaven. Sam’s face is twisted into a familiar expression of amused, polite confusion and he laughs, shaking his head and he lets Gabriel kiss him when the angel leans in.
“I don’t like that guy,” John decides with the certainty and wisdom of every father, “I don’t know what Sammy’s thinking, letting that angel into their lives knowing all the trouble he brings. Lettin’ him... touch him like that –“
“John,” Mary grounds out and that’s familiar. They’ve talked about this.
John quickly amends his criticism. “He ain’t serious! H’aint like us, he’s got his own agenda!”
Mary hums thoughtfully and her arm winds around John's torso. “That angel’s powerful, even more powerful than Castiel. And he likes Sammy.”
John snorts in disparagement. “It doesn't make sense."
“He’ll look after him. I think that Dean could use the help.”
And John’s not looking, but he’s sure Mary's giving him that pointed look of expectation to affirm that she’s right, she’s always right, even when she’s wrong.
John sighs. “There’s some sense in it, I suppose.”
» Fandom: Supernatural
» Warnings: Mild Spoilers for Season 5
» Pairing(s)/Characters: John/Mary, Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel
» Summary: John and Mary watch their sons from the afterlife and make commentary on their love lives.
» A/N: Written here for
measuringlife in comment_fic, because I don't understand Sam/Gabriel either, but I can see the functional benefits from an Operational Health and Safety perspective.John doesn’t approve.
As a father, he can appreciate that his boys have each found someone in addition to watch their backs, who can carry their share of their load (and then some).
As a hunter, he can’t appreciate the way their choices have softened the boys he worked so hard to mould into self-reliant hunters of renown. Getting all sensitive and... considerate....
“Oh, shut up, John,” Mary admonishes, the cotton of her dress brushing his hand as she slides her arm through his. “It’s been too long since you remembered the symptoms of happiness.”
He turns away from the pond in the glade showing him their boys on Earth. He gives her a look that clearly questions why they aren't on the same page, to which she raises an eyebrow and kisses him fondly. It’s a moment before John relaxes, because now, even in the afterlife absent of hellfire with Mary at his side and bunnies skipping in the undergrowth, it’s hard to trust this happiness.
He sighs against her lips, feeling her hands on his arms, but she pulls back a moment later. When he opens his eyes, he sees that Mary’s eyes are dancing with laughter.
“Oh, John, if you could see yourself right now,” Mary coos, stroking his cheek, “All that manly sensitivity to my influence, it makes a lady swoon.”
Mary shakes in his arms as she laughs and he can’t help but join her. True, easy joy is starting to feel familiar again, oh and it’s so good. A wave of sadness comes over him; it’s sad, it’s pathetic that this feeling became so foreign to him and his boys.
He looks at the pond again where Dean is sitting on the bed at a motel, the Winchester arsenal spread around him. Across from him is that angel, Castiel, his face pinched in soft concentration as Dean shows him how to clean the guns with meticulous, but efficient, care. Dean’s face shines with pride and no secret affection as Castiel accepts the cleaning rag to show what he’s learned.
John nods at the image. “That angel saved Dean from the pit, even marked him as his own.”
Beside him, Mary is chuckling at his expense.
“Castiel saved Dean! He saved his soul, this,” John waves at the pond, “Ain’t no big surprise. But Sammy – !”
The image in the pond ripples with change to show Sam reclining on the hood of the Impala in the parking lot of the motel at night, another angel is standing between his knees. Gabriel is swept up regaling Sam with some tale of probable mischief, maybe how he most recently conned the highest ranks of Heaven. Sam’s face is twisted into a familiar expression of amused, polite confusion and he laughs, shaking his head and he lets Gabriel kiss him when the angel leans in.
“I don’t like that guy,” John decides with the certainty and wisdom of every father, “I don’t know what Sammy’s thinking, letting that angel into their lives knowing all the trouble he brings. Lettin’ him... touch him like that –“
“John,” Mary grounds out and that’s familiar. They’ve talked about this.
John quickly amends his criticism. “He ain’t serious! H’aint like us, he’s got his own agenda!”
Mary hums thoughtfully and her arm winds around John's torso. “That angel’s powerful, even more powerful than Castiel. And he likes Sammy.”
John snorts in disparagement. “It doesn't make sense."
“He’ll look after him. I think that Dean could use the help.”
And John’s not looking, but he’s sure Mary's giving him that pointed look of expectation to affirm that she’s right, she’s always right, even when she’s wrong.
John sighs. “There’s some sense in it, I suppose.”
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