![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Title: Little Bird
Rating/Warning: PG
Wordcount: 1,248
Spoilers: None
Fandom: SPN
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Category: Gen - wing!fic, wee!chesters.
Notes: Part of my gen wing!fic verse. Thanks todeathangelgw for the superfast beta. All mistakes are mine. (Further author's notes at the bottom)
Written for: Happy birthdaypurenightshade
Disclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
Some people might’ve thought that it was easier to be a man of faith when you knew what was out there.
Jim Murphy had been christened James Patricksen, but had forgone his father’s name for his mother’s since she’d given him everything else and knew that it was harder to be that man of faith. He’d seen horrible things for sure. Demons and devils and all kinds of misery but what had been lacking had been the evidence of the divine. He’d thought maybe just a glimpse of the Lord’s benevolence wouldn’t have been too much to ask considering what he and those he knew went through on a day to day basis. But the divine remained ever elusive.
Until a man named John Winchester brought his boys to Jim’s farm.
Jim hadn’t meant to cross himself when he saw Sammy Winchester, who was fourteen years old with a wingspan to match his height. The thwap to the back of his head tells him what he’d done out of reflex.
“What? The boy ain’t freaked out enough?” John complains and Jim feels heat flood his cheeks.
“Sorry, it’s just that…well, you could warn a guy you know? Especially a guy of the cloth.”
~V~
Jim watches the boys and notes the way Dean hovers as Sam rails against his invisible bonds, hampered as much by his family’s over-protectiveness as he is by the wings. Jim knows he’s being romantic, but he sees something of a shepherd in Dean, forever rounding Sam up and keeping him safe. Something bothers Jim though. It itches at the back of his mind like a song on the tip of his tongue.
He knows there’s something else he should be seeing, other than two growing boys, even if one is unusually afflicted. Jim starts to research and is careful only to do it when he is alone because he knows John wouldn’t stand for it. He’s caught the way John looks at Sam sometimes, like he’s asking just where the hell he came from. He’s seen that look in the eyes of some of the men in the town, the ones who aren’t sure that the baby they’re toting around is their own but they love them despite it all.
“Stay for a while,” Jim offers when John starts making noises about moving on. “The boy can’t go far but at least he can go outside here. No one to see him for a couple of miles.”
John doesn’t want to leave the boys behind but he does with Dean complaining the whole time. He promises to be back in a few weeks and for the first time Jim catches whiff of Dean’s quandary. He’s torn in two directions with duty and love on both sides. He tries to give Dean some time off and practically chases him out of the house. He and Sam have a quiet dinner when Dean finally relents and takes Jim’s old pickup into town after three days of prodding.
Dean eventually comes back the next afternoon smelling like a cathouse and, while Jim doesn’t exactly approve, he knows it’s for the best in the long run.
~V~
Jim gets the feeling that Sam is working up to something a few weeks into their stay. He takes note of the way Sam will open his mouth and then close it again while frowning to himself when they share a meal. Dean will go out on occasion and John uses the farm as his base, willing to leave Sam only because the alternative is to have the poor kid hunkered in the back seat everywhere they go like he’s sneaking into a drive-in.
Jim knows all he can do is be available for when Sam finally screws up the nerve to ask what he wants. Sometimes Jim finds him in the small graveyard down at the edge of his property that is mostly overgrown with weeds. It’s a family plot for the people who had once owned the farm, but no one has been buried there in an age. There’s a statue of an angel by the falling front fence and Sam lingers there with his long fingers sometimes brushing the wings and touching the bare toes, even the jagged place where the big one is missing.
“You think I’m good?” Sam finally asks when he’s helping Jim work on an old junker that Elsbeth from down the road can’t get to turn over. Dean had offered to take a look, but Jim knew enough to get it started and Sam seemed keen to do something other than read and wander around the place. They’re on their backs under the car with Sam holding the tools and handing them across when Jim asks. Dean is at the movies in town with Elsbeth’s daughter, though he had looked guilty as hell when he had left before Jim had practically chased him out with a broom.
“What’s that?” Jim asks before he realises just exactly what Sam is asking. This is what Sam has been tossing about inside himself for so long. The only creatures with wings that Jim has ever been able to find were either deeply evil or the very symbol of good. There didn’t seem to be any kind of middle ground. “I think you’re whatever you want to be,” Jim says because it would be too easy to tell Sam exactly what he wants to hear, of course you are, and Jim thinks a kid like Sam Winchester doesn’t deserve a platitude. “You’ve got choices just like everyone else. Good or bad, it’s completely up to you.”
Sam makes a contemplative noise that turns into a squawk of indignation when he’s yanked unceremoniously from underneath the car and Jim can hear Dean laughing. “Now I’m going to have to fix whatever you broke,” Dean’s saying and then there’s the sound of a scuffle and Jim rolls his eyes and gets back to work.
~V~
The big things, the kinds of events that leave a scar on your life, always seem to happen when you’re least expecting them.
Jim is helping Bobby with an exorcism, a fairly messy one because this demon hadn’t been particularly careful with its chosen host and the best Bobby and Jim can hope for is to release the poor wretch from his meat cage. Amidst the cursing and blood, the thing curls out a name.
Winchester
The idea that John has tangled with this particular demon before isn’t such a strange one, but the more the demon babbles in its desperation, the more Jim worries that it is not John the creature is fixated on. He wonders if maybe it’s Sam because the kid is pretty damn hard to miss and would be a sought after notch on any lower being’s belt. But what the thing is saying doesn’t really leave much doubt that he isn’t the target either.
It says another name before Bobby finally puts an end to it and the once-human shudders and bleeds out on the floor.
Dashmael
~V~
Jim prepares.
He doesn’t like to think of it as going to war, but the analogy is apt. For better or worse the Winchesters, all three of them, have come into his life and therefore his protection. He knows he will have to warn John eventually...tell him that maybe he’s being too darn careful with the wrong son.
Jim knows one thing for sure.
The enemy is at the gates.
-----
Author's Notes: So I hopepurenightshade forgives me because I took a little leeway with her request... you know when you start writing a particular story and it just turns on you? I took her guardian angel idea a little literally... Jim Murphy is probably the closest thing the boys had to someone watching over them (apart from John) and I expanded on that. It was fun to write a non-Dean POV in this verse, the only other one having been The Bad Guy. I'm now entertaining the idea of a John POV that mirrors Forgetting To Fall... *plots*
Rating/Warning: PG
Wordcount: 1,248
Spoilers: None
Fandom: SPN
By:
kellifer_ficCategory: Gen - wing!fic, wee!chesters.
Notes: Part of my gen wing!fic verse. Thanks to
deathangelgw for the superfast beta. All mistakes are mine. (Further author's notes at the bottom)Written for: Happy birthday
purenightshadeDisclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
Some people might’ve thought that it was easier to be a man of faith when you knew what was out there.
Jim Murphy had been christened James Patricksen, but had forgone his father’s name for his mother’s since she’d given him everything else and knew that it was harder to be that man of faith. He’d seen horrible things for sure. Demons and devils and all kinds of misery but what had been lacking had been the evidence of the divine. He’d thought maybe just a glimpse of the Lord’s benevolence wouldn’t have been too much to ask considering what he and those he knew went through on a day to day basis. But the divine remained ever elusive.
Until a man named John Winchester brought his boys to Jim’s farm.
Jim hadn’t meant to cross himself when he saw Sammy Winchester, who was fourteen years old with a wingspan to match his height. The thwap to the back of his head tells him what he’d done out of reflex.
“What? The boy ain’t freaked out enough?” John complains and Jim feels heat flood his cheeks.
“Sorry, it’s just that…well, you could warn a guy you know? Especially a guy of the cloth.”
Jim watches the boys and notes the way Dean hovers as Sam rails against his invisible bonds, hampered as much by his family’s over-protectiveness as he is by the wings. Jim knows he’s being romantic, but he sees something of a shepherd in Dean, forever rounding Sam up and keeping him safe. Something bothers Jim though. It itches at the back of his mind like a song on the tip of his tongue.
He knows there’s something else he should be seeing, other than two growing boys, even if one is unusually afflicted. Jim starts to research and is careful only to do it when he is alone because he knows John wouldn’t stand for it. He’s caught the way John looks at Sam sometimes, like he’s asking just where the hell he came from. He’s seen that look in the eyes of some of the men in the town, the ones who aren’t sure that the baby they’re toting around is their own but they love them despite it all.
“Stay for a while,” Jim offers when John starts making noises about moving on. “The boy can’t go far but at least he can go outside here. No one to see him for a couple of miles.”
John doesn’t want to leave the boys behind but he does with Dean complaining the whole time. He promises to be back in a few weeks and for the first time Jim catches whiff of Dean’s quandary. He’s torn in two directions with duty and love on both sides. He tries to give Dean some time off and practically chases him out of the house. He and Sam have a quiet dinner when Dean finally relents and takes Jim’s old pickup into town after three days of prodding.
Dean eventually comes back the next afternoon smelling like a cathouse and, while Jim doesn’t exactly approve, he knows it’s for the best in the long run.
Jim gets the feeling that Sam is working up to something a few weeks into their stay. He takes note of the way Sam will open his mouth and then close it again while frowning to himself when they share a meal. Dean will go out on occasion and John uses the farm as his base, willing to leave Sam only because the alternative is to have the poor kid hunkered in the back seat everywhere they go like he’s sneaking into a drive-in.
Jim knows all he can do is be available for when Sam finally screws up the nerve to ask what he wants. Sometimes Jim finds him in the small graveyard down at the edge of his property that is mostly overgrown with weeds. It’s a family plot for the people who had once owned the farm, but no one has been buried there in an age. There’s a statue of an angel by the falling front fence and Sam lingers there with his long fingers sometimes brushing the wings and touching the bare toes, even the jagged place where the big one is missing.
“You think I’m good?” Sam finally asks when he’s helping Jim work on an old junker that Elsbeth from down the road can’t get to turn over. Dean had offered to take a look, but Jim knew enough to get it started and Sam seemed keen to do something other than read and wander around the place. They’re on their backs under the car with Sam holding the tools and handing them across when Jim asks. Dean is at the movies in town with Elsbeth’s daughter, though he had looked guilty as hell when he had left before Jim had practically chased him out with a broom.
“What’s that?” Jim asks before he realises just exactly what Sam is asking. This is what Sam has been tossing about inside himself for so long. The only creatures with wings that Jim has ever been able to find were either deeply evil or the very symbol of good. There didn’t seem to be any kind of middle ground. “I think you’re whatever you want to be,” Jim says because it would be too easy to tell Sam exactly what he wants to hear, of course you are, and Jim thinks a kid like Sam Winchester doesn’t deserve a platitude. “You’ve got choices just like everyone else. Good or bad, it’s completely up to you.”
Sam makes a contemplative noise that turns into a squawk of indignation when he’s yanked unceremoniously from underneath the car and Jim can hear Dean laughing. “Now I’m going to have to fix whatever you broke,” Dean’s saying and then there’s the sound of a scuffle and Jim rolls his eyes and gets back to work.
The big things, the kinds of events that leave a scar on your life, always seem to happen when you’re least expecting them.
Jim is helping Bobby with an exorcism, a fairly messy one because this demon hadn’t been particularly careful with its chosen host and the best Bobby and Jim can hope for is to release the poor wretch from his meat cage. Amidst the cursing and blood, the thing curls out a name.
Winchester
The idea that John has tangled with this particular demon before isn’t such a strange one, but the more the demon babbles in its desperation, the more Jim worries that it is not John the creature is fixated on. He wonders if maybe it’s Sam because the kid is pretty damn hard to miss and would be a sought after notch on any lower being’s belt. But what the thing is saying doesn’t really leave much doubt that he isn’t the target either.
It says another name before Bobby finally puts an end to it and the once-human shudders and bleeds out on the floor.
Dashmael
Jim prepares.
He doesn’t like to think of it as going to war, but the analogy is apt. For better or worse the Winchesters, all three of them, have come into his life and therefore his protection. He knows he will have to warn John eventually...tell him that maybe he’s being too darn careful with the wrong son.
Jim knows one thing for sure.
The enemy is at the gates.
-----
Author's Notes: So I hope
purenightshade forgives me because I took a little leeway with her request... you know when you start writing a particular story and it just turns on you? I took her guardian angel idea a little literally... Jim Murphy is probably the closest thing the boys had to someone watching over them (apart from John) and I expanded on that. It was fun to write a non-Dean POV in this verse, the only other one having been The Bad Guy. I'm now entertaining the idea of a John POV that mirrors Forgetting To Fall... *plots*Tags: