Mar. 10th, 2009

ultraviolet9a: (angry)
>> The Visitor

TITLE: The Visitor.
AUTHOR:[ profile] ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: Not really. Up to 4.03 and generic stuff for later.
CHARACTERS: John Winchester centric thing, with reference to other characters throughout the seasons (and pre-season).
SUMMARY: Uhm. It will all make sense in the end. Or so I hope.
RATING: PG13 for potty-mouth.
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own, no profit, don’t sue.
NOTE: for [ profile] animotus, muse-magnet extraordinaire.
BETA: by shiny [ profile] may7fic

The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.
-Tennessee Williams

On the night of his twentieth birthday, John Winchester is still in Vietnam. He shares piss-smelling shots with Jim and cracks dirty jokes with Deacon. They smoke cigarettes, drag after drag, snuffs moving like fireflies in the dark. John looks at his companions, then the night sky, wondering what the future holds.

Turns out the future holds a lot. It holds getting back home in one piece, carrying medals and the burning desire to make something of his life. A black Impala he’ll love once he drives her. A blonde girl named Mary he’ll fall for so deep he’ll never see daylight again. It holds a wedding and two births. A fire and everything avalanching after that.

But that comes after. What the future holds right after the night John turns twenty star-gazing are bullets; the world fading into blood as Deacon carries him back to the chopper, telling him not to fucking dare die on him, don’t you fucking dare, John or I’ll kill you myself. It holds the shrapnel scar that will run alongside his face for the rest of his life; Jim Murphy sitting beside comatose him, thanking him for saving his life, but why’d you have to take those bullets for me, you idiot? folded hands, praying to God and for the first time believing the words.

John can see all that. Sees his wounded body, closed eyes, nurses. Jim praying and Deacon waiting, waiting for him to wake up. Can hear himself speaking but neither Jim nor Deacon hear his confused frustration and the fear that starts building up, as he stands next to his own broken body.

He can see his hand go through it as if he’s made of smoke and realizes that this is not a dream. Not exactly.

That’s when he first sees the stranger.

Visitor )


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January 2013


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