clex_monkie89 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clex_monkie89) wrote2007-11-17 04:39 pm
clex_monkie89) wrote2007-11-17 04:39 pm
[Fic] It's the most wonderful time of the year (Supernatural)
Title: It's the most wonderful time of the year
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam
Pairing: None, Gen.
Words: 684
Summary: Sam's first winter at Stanford is weird.
Sam's first winter at Stanford is weird.
The dorms shut down for break and he doesn't have any friends yet—it's only been a semester, it's not that long, he always took a while to make friends growing up—so he strikes a deal with one of his bosses and forfeits his paycheck for the next month to sleep on the sofa in the break room. He knows it's a shit deal but he won't get a motel room, he can't, he refuses to.
He does double and triple shifts at all his jobs. Works sixteen hours bartending at The Watering Hole then eight hours checking IDs and breaking up fights at No Idea. Everyone who has vacation seems to take it all at once so he only has enough time to sleep every other day or so.
He makes good money, even with an entire check gone from his income. His tips from the restaurant are insane, everyone wants to impress their friends and relatives and their potential love interests this time of the year. He averages a hundred and fifty dollars a night, give or take. He has no idea if that's good for everyone else but it's fucking fantastic for him.
He can't help but overhear the conversations. Girls in line at the club with their skimpy outfits and no coats in the middle of December huddled together and talking about the "freezing" forty-eight degree weather. It still feels weird to him that there's no snow on the ground.
After shift change Sam heads into the club. He climbs the stairs, makes his way through the VIP platform and ducks back into the room off the manager's office. Rick wakes him two hours and sixteen minutes later and offers to drive him to the restaurant. Sam falls back asleep in the passenger's seat, face tucked into the window and Fool to Cry whispering out of the speakers.
It's Christmas before he knows it. He works a full twenty-four hours at the restaurant before Christy kicks him out around five. He knows it's closer to night than day as soon as he steps outside, the street busy but not jammed, the sun low and falling.
He calls a cab and goes to Outback, orders a lobster and a steak, medium rare, and doesn't think of Dean or his dad at all.
He drops a hundred dollars on the table when he leaves. His cab doesn't get there for an hour and as he sits on the bench inside the door and doesn't think about his roommate having some feast with his family at home or the presents he didn't know where a part of this day until he was nine.
He doesn't think about the all-night poker tournaments that used to be how he marked this day. He doesn't think about splitting a bottle of Jack with his dad and his brother three years ago or the two months he spent in surgery from the sheet metal he split his foot in half on later that night.
The cab ride back is slow and numb. The shocks on the Caddy are worn and the ride is bumpy, the Christmas music is blaring and grating his ears and the driver is entirely too happy for someone who's spending Christmas shuffling people around. Sam tips the driver half and doesn't wish him pain when he drives off.
No Idea is twice as busy as normal, young adults escaping visiting parents and college kids bonding with younger siblings and masses of people avoiding and ignoring the families they don't have. He uses his bag for a pillow and grabs the blanket his boss lets him keep in his office, curls himself on the couch and tries to ignore the headache-inducing bass thumping through the walls.
He's still awake when his phone rings. He answers it and says nothing. The only sound on the other end is breathing, wet with the occasional grunt thrown in. Sam closes his eyes, breathes deep and feels the tension slide off of him. He sleeps deep for the first time since August.
Rating: PG
Characters: Sam
Pairing: None, Gen.
Words: 684
Summary: Sam's first winter at Stanford is weird.
Sam's first winter at Stanford is weird.
The dorms shut down for break and he doesn't have any friends yet—it's only been a semester, it's not that long, he always took a while to make friends growing up—so he strikes a deal with one of his bosses and forfeits his paycheck for the next month to sleep on the sofa in the break room. He knows it's a shit deal but he won't get a motel room, he can't, he refuses to.
He does double and triple shifts at all his jobs. Works sixteen hours bartending at The Watering Hole then eight hours checking IDs and breaking up fights at No Idea. Everyone who has vacation seems to take it all at once so he only has enough time to sleep every other day or so.
He makes good money, even with an entire check gone from his income. His tips from the restaurant are insane, everyone wants to impress their friends and relatives and their potential love interests this time of the year. He averages a hundred and fifty dollars a night, give or take. He has no idea if that's good for everyone else but it's fucking fantastic for him.
He can't help but overhear the conversations. Girls in line at the club with their skimpy outfits and no coats in the middle of December huddled together and talking about the "freezing" forty-eight degree weather. It still feels weird to him that there's no snow on the ground.
After shift change Sam heads into the club. He climbs the stairs, makes his way through the VIP platform and ducks back into the room off the manager's office. Rick wakes him two hours and sixteen minutes later and offers to drive him to the restaurant. Sam falls back asleep in the passenger's seat, face tucked into the window and Fool to Cry whispering out of the speakers.
It's Christmas before he knows it. He works a full twenty-four hours at the restaurant before Christy kicks him out around five. He knows it's closer to night than day as soon as he steps outside, the street busy but not jammed, the sun low and falling.
He calls a cab and goes to Outback, orders a lobster and a steak, medium rare, and doesn't think of Dean or his dad at all.
He drops a hundred dollars on the table when he leaves. His cab doesn't get there for an hour and as he sits on the bench inside the door and doesn't think about his roommate having some feast with his family at home or the presents he didn't know where a part of this day until he was nine.
He doesn't think about the all-night poker tournaments that used to be how he marked this day. He doesn't think about splitting a bottle of Jack with his dad and his brother three years ago or the two months he spent in surgery from the sheet metal he split his foot in half on later that night.
The cab ride back is slow and numb. The shocks on the Caddy are worn and the ride is bumpy, the Christmas music is blaring and grating his ears and the driver is entirely too happy for someone who's spending Christmas shuffling people around. Sam tips the driver half and doesn't wish him pain when he drives off.
No Idea is twice as busy as normal, young adults escaping visiting parents and college kids bonding with younger siblings and masses of people avoiding and ignoring the families they don't have. He uses his bag for a pillow and grabs the blanket his boss lets him keep in his office, curls himself on the couch and tries to ignore the headache-inducing bass thumping through the walls.
He's still awake when his phone rings. He answers it and says nothing. The only sound on the other end is breathing, wet with the occasional grunt thrown in. Sam closes his eyes, breathes deep and feels the tension slide off of him. He sleeps deep for the first time since August.
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*sniffle*
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I really like the ending, how they don’t need any words during that phone call but they both feel better.
Favorite lines:
He knows it's a shit deal but he won't get a motel room, he can't, he refuses to.
Oh, Sam. I can see how he wouldn’t want to stay in a motel anytime soon. It hasn’t been long enough since his separation from John and Dean to do that.
He calls a cab and goes to Outback, orders a lobster and a steak, medium rare, and doesn't think of Dean or his dad at all.
And again, I must say Oh, Sam. *hugs him*
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It's sad because it's like he's trying to convince himself that, really, everything is fine and he's okay and it really doesn't feel like someone ripped his heart straight out of his chest at all.
*Hugs him too*
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This fic captures that perfectly, hon.
Very nicely done, so sad and lonely and raw.
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♥
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And? Sam always tips huge, at first because that's what John and Dean did and now because he's worked it and he knows how badly they need the money. He likes the thought of tipping 120% and making someone's day.
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The end is really the most important part of this fic, because all he needs is to hear Dean breathing, to know he's okay, and everything is all better. Thank you for commenting, I'm glad you like this!
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~ Erin
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Thank you for commenting, I'm glad you liked this!
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...
I,.. I got nothing. Just "*sigh*". =) Loved it.
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I'm glad you liked this fic so much! Thank you for commenting!
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Thank you so much for your words, I'm glad you liked this so much. I'm glad you liked the ending too, Sam just needed to know his big brother was ther and it was all okay.
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OK, off to bunk to emo.
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Thank you so much, I'm so glad you liked this so much!
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Somehow I managed to miss this when you posted it, so good for me that the crack impala recced it, aye? :0)
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Sammy is SO PRETTY when he emos. SO.
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*Clings*
*hugs*
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