Oh, this is so, so, so beautiful. I love it. Great use of the atlas to connect different parts of Sam’s life, gorgeous description, perfect dialogue, fantastic characterizations … just awesome all the way around.
Favorite lines:
"Road trip," he says, like it's supposed to be fun, something Sam should want to do, instead of the thing he's spent his whole life trying to get away from, trying to find a place to stop tripping and land and stay a while, maybe even long enough to put down roots.
Oh, Sam. Yeah, “road trip” means something much different to Sam than to most people.
She sang along softly, off-key, I'm gonna clear my head, I'm gonna drink that sun, I'm gonna love you good and strong, while our love is good and young, and it immediately became Sam's new favorite song.
Aww. :) Very sweet.
When he kisses her for the first time, later that night, after a couple of beers and the handful of Swedish fish that passes for dinner, her mouth is hot and sticky sweet beneath his,
Great details.
After school lets out that spring, they drive across the country, back roads and byways, and Sam marks down all the places they go, writes about the people they meet and the friends he makes, the way Dad writes about hunting in his journal.
I love this, that Sam kept his own record of their travels.
After that, it becomes a habit to scout out churches ahead of time and mark the atlas, little black crosses proliferating over the years, an endless trail of sanctuary looping in on itself like a rosary
Lovely description.
Whenever he has to write the inevitable "What I did on my summer vacation" essay at the start of each new school year, Sam pulls memories from the notes he's taken, writes neatly edited versions of his life in which Dean is never bleeding out in the back seat, Dad is never yelling at him to shoot, goddammit, Sam, what are you waiting for? while monsters bear down on them, and the little black marks ticking off churches are nothing more than symbols of his father's odd penchant for gothic architecture.
Oh, this hurts, the knowledge of what Sam’s experienced and the fact that he’s had to create a false life for himself for public consumption.
his tongue tracing long lines on her soft, lotion-scented skin, open roads to the rest of his life.
Great analogy.
Her body is the atlas of his new world, to be explored and annotated with careful attention to every detail, every sound and shiver she makes, her love and trust the compass pointing him in the right direction after years of running in place.
Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous, and my favorite part of the story. Love how you captured everything Jess meant to Sam by using the atlas analogy.
"I don't want you to get lost, Sammy." He holds the atlas out again. "Take it, and go."
*whimpers* I really like how you wrote their parting scene, the way it’s hurty in a wonderfully quiet way. I’d like to think it was like this, rather than a huge blowout with Dean watching Sam slam out of their lives.
He takes the book, the worn cover soft under his fingers, the weight of it like a brick in his hands.
Good analogy.
They'll chase Dad like he's true north, and Dean will keep them on track with sure hands and smart remarks. No map could get him there faster.
Lovely.
The sound of Jimmy Page's guitar wailing and Robert Plant promising every inch of his love fills the silence, and it's all so familiar, Sam thinks this must be what it feels like to come home.
no subject
Favorite lines:
"Road trip," he says, like it's supposed to be fun, something Sam should want to do, instead of the thing he's spent his whole life trying to get away from, trying to find a place to stop tripping and land and stay a while, maybe even long enough to put down roots.
Oh, Sam. Yeah, “road trip” means something much different to Sam than to most people.
She sang along softly, off-key, I'm gonna clear my head, I'm gonna drink that sun, I'm gonna love you good and strong, while our love is good and young, and it immediately became Sam's new favorite song.
Aww. :) Very sweet.
When he kisses her for the first time, later that night, after a couple of beers and the handful of Swedish fish that passes for dinner, her mouth is hot and sticky sweet beneath his,
Great details.
After school lets out that spring, they drive across the country, back roads and byways, and Sam marks down all the places they go, writes about the people they meet and the friends he makes, the way Dad writes about hunting in his journal.
I love this, that Sam kept his own record of their travels.
After that, it becomes a habit to scout out churches ahead of time and mark the atlas, little black crosses proliferating over the years, an endless trail of sanctuary looping in on itself like a rosary
Lovely description.
Whenever he has to write the inevitable "What I did on my summer vacation" essay at the start of each new school year, Sam pulls memories from the notes he's taken, writes neatly edited versions of his life in which Dean is never bleeding out in the back seat, Dad is never yelling at him to shoot, goddammit, Sam, what are you waiting for? while monsters bear down on them, and the little black marks ticking off churches are nothing more than symbols of his father's odd penchant for gothic architecture.
Oh, this hurts, the knowledge of what Sam’s experienced and the fact that he’s had to create a false life for himself for public consumption.
his tongue tracing long lines on her soft, lotion-scented skin, open roads to the rest of his life.
Great analogy.
Her body is the atlas of his new world, to be explored and annotated with careful attention to every detail, every sound and shiver she makes, her love and trust the compass pointing him in the right direction after years of running in place.
Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous, and my favorite part of the story. Love how you captured everything Jess meant to Sam by using the atlas analogy.
"I don't want you to get lost, Sammy." He holds the atlas out again. "Take it, and go."
*whimpers* I really like how you wrote their parting scene, the way it’s hurty in a wonderfully quiet way. I’d like to think it was like this, rather than a huge blowout with Dean watching Sam slam out of their lives.
He takes the book, the worn cover soft under his fingers, the weight of it like a brick in his hands.
Good analogy.
They'll chase Dad like he's true north, and Dean will keep them on track with sure hands and smart remarks. No map could get him there faster.
Lovely.
The sound of Jimmy Page's guitar wailing and Robert Plant promising every inch of his love fills the silence, and it's all so familiar, Sam thinks this must be what it feels like to come home.
Aww, very sweet.. Perfect ending.