The pacing on this fic is really nice. I like how you’re moving us through not only Sam and Dean’s lives, but Good and Evil’s “lives,” too.
Really, really liked the opening scene with Dean trying to wake Sam up first with his mind, and then by pulling Sam out of bed. LOL! Such a big-brother thing to do.
John’s death, of course, was a sad moment, but nicely handled in that you could feel their grief without having to read about a huge emotional scene. You were able to communicate much with just their brief dialogue and a bit of description. (More on that later.)
Favorite lines:
Okay, then. Weird shit is going on. Then again, weird shit is always going on. It’s just that the last time Dean made a miraculous recovery, he managed to kill someone else in the process, a kid who had nothing to do with it, whose life was selected by a human trying to play Reaper.
Dean no longer believes in coincidences. He believes in consequences.
I really liked that section, because you know the events in “Faith” must weigh so heavily on Dean’s mind, and always will.
Could we renegotiate this deal a little? Good asked. I just want to tweak some aspects of it, make it so it’s not just killing off my people.
Sure, said Evil. Name your terms, we can talk about it. Seabreeze?
Mojito. If you have fresh mint.
So what’s on your mind?
I’ve already said this, but will say it again: Love the voices you’ve given to Good and Evil. They’re so casual, and it’s great fun to read.
Still frowning, Dean circles around to the front of his car and wipes at a spot Sam guesses isn’t there. “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean murmurs. Murmurs in a tone Sam’s only ever heard employed across a bar or a diner table, a tone that says I’m here for tonight and I’m a good fuck with no entanglements, wanna come back to my motel room?
LOL! Yeah, Dean has a special relationship with the Impala, doesn’t he? *g*
You try to get ‘em to go good, I try to get ‘em to go evil. Scratch the score we already have, screw the Balance. All or nothing.
Hmm, said Good.
Oh, dear. That doesn’t bode well for the Winchesters, does it?
Sam lets out a laugh that sounds far too much like a sob and John forces his eyes open, because that’s his son on the next bed curled into himself, nine again, terrified because his dad isn’t like the other ones, his dad might come back broken.
Such a sad image here, of a younger Sam worried for his father, and of the current Sam equally angst-ridden.
And John had looked at both his boys, small and fragile and so fucking perfect, and known peace.
I love that line. Simply but beautifully put.
“We’ll protect them,” says Sam, and it feels like forgiveness.
“Dad,” says Dean, and it feels like love.
John looks up at them, my boys, and smiles.
Love, love, love that bit, the way those few words of each son carry so much meaning for John. This whole death scene was just wonderfully handled.
Because he mourns his father, and because if there’s something out there good enough to kill John Winchester, Sam never wants to meet it. But if it’s still out there, he wants to meet it so badly it makes his head throb, his hands shake. He wants to meet that sonofabitch and look it in the eyes and then shoot it fucking dead.
Ooh, that’s good. All that dread and need for vengeance all mixed up together. Nicely written.
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Really, really liked the opening scene with Dean trying to wake Sam up first with his mind, and then by pulling Sam out of bed. LOL! Such a big-brother thing to do.
John’s death, of course, was a sad moment, but nicely handled in that you could feel their grief without having to read about a huge emotional scene. You were able to communicate much with just their brief dialogue and a bit of description. (More on that later.)
Favorite lines:
Okay, then. Weird shit is going on. Then again, weird shit is always going on. It’s just that the last time Dean made a miraculous recovery, he managed to kill someone else in the process, a kid who had nothing to do with it, whose life was selected by a human trying to play Reaper.
Dean no longer believes in coincidences. He believes in consequences.
I really liked that section, because you know the events in “Faith” must weigh so heavily on Dean’s mind, and always will.
Could we renegotiate this deal a little? Good asked. I just want to tweak some aspects of it, make it so it’s not just killing off my people.
Sure, said Evil. Name your terms, we can talk about it. Seabreeze?
Mojito. If you have fresh mint.
So what’s on your mind?
I’ve already said this, but will say it again: Love the voices you’ve given to Good and Evil. They’re so casual, and it’s great fun to read.
Still frowning, Dean circles around to the front of his car and wipes at a spot Sam guesses isn’t there. “You okay, sweetheart?” Dean murmurs. Murmurs in a tone Sam’s only ever heard employed across a bar or a diner table, a tone that says I’m here for tonight and I’m a good fuck with no entanglements, wanna come back to my motel room?
LOL! Yeah, Dean has a special relationship with the Impala, doesn’t he? *g*
You try to get ‘em to go good, I try to get ‘em to go evil. Scratch the score we already have, screw the Balance. All or nothing.
Hmm, said Good.
Oh, dear. That doesn’t bode well for the Winchesters, does it?
Sam lets out a laugh that sounds far too much like a sob and John forces his eyes open, because that’s his son on the next bed curled into himself, nine again, terrified because his dad isn’t like the other ones, his dad might come back broken.
Such a sad image here, of a younger Sam worried for his father, and of the current Sam equally angst-ridden.
And John had looked at both his boys, small and fragile and so fucking perfect, and known peace.
I love that line. Simply but beautifully put.
“We’ll protect them,” says Sam, and it feels like forgiveness.
“Dad,” says Dean, and it feels like love.
John looks up at them, my boys, and smiles.
Love, love, love that bit, the way those few words of each son carry so much meaning for John. This whole death scene was just wonderfully handled.
Because he mourns his father, and because if there’s something out there good enough to kill John Winchester, Sam never wants to meet it. But if it’s still out there, he wants to meet it so badly it makes his head throb, his hands shake. He wants to meet that sonofabitch and look it in the eyes and then shoot it fucking dead.
Ooh, that’s good. All that dread and need for vengeance all mixed up together. Nicely written.