Great fic! I really like how you threaded baseball throughout Dean’s life, and the many glimpses you gave us of his life. There was sweetness and longing and aching here, and all of it written so, so well.
Favorite lines:
It's not the downtime that bothers him, so much as the in-between-ness of it--not hunting but not relaxing, transitioning from one to the other, or maybe not; it's all still up in the air. Dean's never liked unclear boundaries and shades of gray.
Great insight here.
"When the weather warms up, we'll play catch, okay, Dean-o?"
Oh, this hurts, knowing he never does play with that mitt.
There are wooden bleachers rising like whitecaps, beams warped and paint silvered and peeling from years of wear and weather; people are sitting in groups--families, knots of gossiping teenagers, little kids climbing up and down while their parents yell at them to be careful.
I really like this description.
"What if it goes through the guy's legs, like Bill Buckner in eighty-six?" Dean says, and refuses to get sidetracked when Sam asks if the Red Sox are really cursed, and if they're going to Boston to break it.
Sam’s so cute. *pets him*
and once, Sam caught a foul ball that he gave to the kid sitting in front of them, both Sam and the kid beaming like the floods lighting the field
Aww. Such a sweet moment, and so very Sam.
But he wouldn't bring Sam with him on days like this, anyway. Never has. Not because he doesn't think Sam would get it, but because he knows he would.
Oh, Dean. "Please, Dad? We'll be super good, won't we, Sammy?" Dean nudges Sammy, who looks up from his comic and blinks.
"Yeah, Dad," he says, and goes back to reading, like Dean didn't buy him that new issue of Uncanny X-Men just to get him to agree to go to the game without a fuss.
*g* I love Sam’s response.
Dad doesn't even know Dean's tried out for the team until he's on it, and it's too late to say no.
Dean’s so sneaky. He knows how to work the system, doesn’t he?
Dad opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again to say, "You can use the free time for target practice." But his voice is rough with regret, and Dean has to swallow hard against the sudden sting behind his eyes.
Great writing here, from John’s dialogue to Dean’s reaction. You nicely communicated so much pain in such a short amount of space.
"Sam Winchester? Tall guy? Stupid hair?"
LOL!
Dean stops, stomach lurching in dismay, because after the first few weeks of Sam not taking his calls, he'd finally gotten the message, and stopped calling. He gets the message again now, seeing Sam surrounded by friends, enjoying himself, as normal as he’d ever wished for. Sam doesn't want to see him, and tickets to the Giants-Reds game aren't going to change that.
*whimpers* I hurt so much for Dean here, on the outside looking in.
"Hey," he says, wearing that shy smile that kills with nurses and librarians and old blue-haired ladies, with everyone who is suspicious of Dean's attempts at sincerity. "I was thinking maybe we could have a catch."
I adore this moment. It’s so sweet. *pets Sam*
Sam throws, and the ball lands in Dean's glove with a hard smack, and Dean grins at the sound. He'll take it.
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Date: 2007-04-30 05:55 pm (UTC)Favorite lines:
It's not the downtime that bothers him, so much as the in-between-ness of it--not hunting but not relaxing, transitioning from one to the other, or maybe not; it's all still up in the air. Dean's never liked unclear boundaries and shades of gray.
Great insight here.
"When the weather warms up, we'll play catch, okay, Dean-o?"
Oh, this hurts, knowing he never does play with that mitt.
There are wooden bleachers rising like whitecaps, beams warped and paint silvered and peeling from years of wear and weather; people are sitting in groups--families, knots of gossiping teenagers, little kids climbing up and down while their parents yell at them to be careful.
I really like this description.
"What if it goes through the guy's legs, like Bill Buckner in eighty-six?" Dean says, and refuses to get sidetracked when Sam asks if the Red Sox are really cursed, and if they're going to Boston to break it.
Sam’s so cute. *pets him*
and once, Sam caught a foul ball that he gave to the kid sitting in front of them, both Sam and the kid beaming like the floods lighting the field
Aww. Such a sweet moment, and so very Sam.
But he wouldn't bring Sam with him on days like this, anyway. Never has. Not because he doesn't think Sam would get it, but because he knows he would.
Oh, Dean.
"Please, Dad? We'll be super good, won't we, Sammy?" Dean nudges Sammy, who looks up from his comic and blinks.
"Yeah, Dad," he says, and goes back to reading, like Dean didn't buy him that new issue of Uncanny X-Men just to get him to agree to go to the game without a fuss.
*g* I love Sam’s response.
Dad doesn't even know Dean's tried out for the team until he's on it, and it's too late to say no.
Dean’s so sneaky. He knows how to work the system, doesn’t he?
Dad opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again to say, "You can use the free time for target practice." But his voice is rough with regret, and Dean has to swallow hard against the sudden sting behind his eyes.
Great writing here, from John’s dialogue to Dean’s reaction. You nicely communicated so much pain in such a short amount of space.
"Sam Winchester? Tall guy? Stupid hair?"
LOL!
Dean stops, stomach lurching in dismay, because after the first few weeks of Sam not taking his calls, he'd finally gotten the message, and stopped calling. He gets the message again now, seeing Sam surrounded by friends, enjoying himself, as normal as he’d ever wished for. Sam doesn't want to see him, and tickets to the Giants-Reds game aren't going to change that.
*whimpers* I hurt so much for Dean here, on the outside looking in.
"Hey," he says, wearing that shy smile that kills with nurses and librarians and old blue-haired ladies, with everyone who is suspicious of Dean's attempts at sincerity. "I was thinking maybe we could have a catch."
I adore this moment. It’s so sweet. *pets Sam*
Sam throws, and the ball lands in Dean's glove with a hard smack, and Dean grins at the sound. He'll take it.
Me, too. Great ending to a great story. :)