Written for leenys The Isaac one is on it's way bu not quite there, in the meantime hope you enjoy the Hiro one. It's more than a drabble but I figured you wouldn't mind. :D
All My Truths
Hiro has never had a purpose. Everyone he knows has always told him he was an average man, with the exception of his sister. She had sometimes hinted her belief in him but had never said as such, whilst his father had simply watched and wished his son to be more. He'd always know father was disappointed but he'd never felt he'd stood a chance to change the man's mind. What he valued in life his father scorned him for, because Hiro dreamt rather than created anything concrete in the world.
His grades were very good of course, but his skills...well, he lacked anything of note, there was nothing particularly useful. He wasn't being useful. So his father had placed him in the company, but his bosses had said at the obligatory interview, the formal one just for show, that he was no better than anyone else. They'd asked why they should employ him - denying even their need for him as a worker. Grudgingly he was given a job.
Everyone knew who he was and most of them avoided him, he was like an outcast in the company. It didn't really bother Hiro as much as that fact that he'd hoped this would please his father, produce a glimmer of pride in his eyes, but he never came ho see him. A cubicle worker wasn't important enough and until he worked his way up the company his father refused to recognise him as a son there. Hiro slaved away each day but he knew in his heart he would never be a great businessman, because he had no ambition to be one, no drive to move up apart from the desire for acceptance and somehow that alone was not enough.
Competence was not enough to get him noticed, and besides that, he had a bias working against him. Hence all his life he'd been considered some form of pleb, acceptable for many people but not to himself, a man who dreamed of greater things that were impossible. He'd also felt unworthy of his families name, but this was mainly because his family had thought the same and who was he to disagree, they knew what the family stood for better than he.
Now he has a mission. Hiro is proved special - only to himself, but as it turns out that's all that matters in the grand scheme of things. He knows what to do, follow his destiny. Trust in the fate he envisions rather than the “truths” he is told. And in doing so he finds faith in himself.
For doylefan22 - happy birthday! I did my best to capture the idea, though I'm rather sucking on fics with dialogue lately. I keep wanting to do character thoughts/narrative...
He'd said he'd do anything. Just for one day mind. But he had said anything at all - and meant it. Except for maybe museums or flying... He'd pictured Sam semi-torturing him with the promise of anything, stretching the limits of brotherly love just because he could and it amused him to take Dean to... a law lecture at the local college, or something equally boring. Even that possibility hadn't put him off though because it was his brother and he figured if they went out fighting, willing to die together - adding that they weren't wanting to and sure as hell not likely to either – then they should live together, and not just in the motel room sharing, driving, drinking, hunting way. They'd have more of that in the future but real life stuff they'd missed before. Maybe Sam had had more of that, going to college but they'd not done much of it together. So, he'd suffer whatever it was Sam wanted to do.
Of course that'd been before vengeful nymphs had popped up at the newly built spa resort and they'd had to go undercover. Personally he'd enjoyed it, but then who wouldn't love to serve drinks to gorgeous rich women who wanted to make their husbands jealous. He had to admit Sam got the raw end of the job, cleaning haunted toilets wasn't exactly challenging that Stanford education mind of his and aw, the smell in there after the nymphs started getting serious about driving people out...
Anyway, now it's three days later. Sam's grumpy whining about bad timing aside, the birthday spirit is kinda gone. They're exhausted, on the way back to the motel after a hunt gone well, but he still offers because it'd suck to ignore the day completely, however belated the celebration is gonna be.
Three days contemplating it and he wasn't prepared for this answer.
“How about a movie? Something fun, nothing heavy. ”
Dean blinks, blind sided by such a simple request.
“Then pizza or no, wait, Italian. At a restaurant too, no more takeaway please!”
Sam says it so casually, mock begging on the last part. He doesn't seem to catch the meaning of the promise or that it's one at all, let alone meant in earnest.
The car comes to a traffic light and he turns to see him looking bored, watching the cars pass by and tapping his fingers on the dash.
“You don't want to go see some historical shit or an arty philosophising documentary about... well, I dunno actually.”
Sam glances at him briefly, answering simply. “Nah. You can choose the film, I don't really mind.”
“Sure, great,” he splutters out as the light changes to green and he gets the car into gear. He's still sort of shocked that pleasing his brother is so easy “I think I saw a cinema a couple blocks over when we drove into town.”
It seems like the offer is missed, or maybe Sam gets it completely, what he's offering and deliberately doesn't take it. He wonders if that's the the thank you, he would have done anything practically but Sam isn't asking for him to – it's the thought that counts.
As he tried to find the elusive cinema he's certain they drove past before, Dean thinks he's been doing too much thinking the last few days. Too much time dwelling on what they're missing but really their life, it ain't exactly the normal way of living but that shouldn't mean they have to make up for it, doing overtime to get the hours of normality clocked in. They already do more than they need to for others - they don't need to be normal to really live.
They've just got to keep making sure they give themselves time to appreciate the being alive and boy, is he so glad he gets to pick what film they're gonna see. Sam has the worst taste in movies ever, bit like his taste in music too – but he doesn't say that out loud, but you know, only because technically this is his birthday and you gotta give a guy a break at least once a year.
For beanie_j - belated happy birthday. I hope you like, I wasn't too sure how you like your John or your John/Kate but I gave it a go. Turned out angst of course. ;) Apologies if you would have preferred something happier. :)
We Are Here Today
John lets her talk until the early hours of the morning. He lets her talk until she's run out of things to say and she falls asleep, head slumped, heavy on his chest.
This is because if she talks he doesn't have to and he finds she's strangely comfortable with that. He guesses it's because she listens all day; has to pay attention, ask questions, pry into details that maybe she doesn't really want to know. It's her job and he understands it, is glad of it. He's not sure they'd work together otherwise, because he doesn't like to let go of his emotions - of his denial and his mental blocks - the way she requires normally.
He doesn't tell her about his nightmares – or what they're made of – anymore, and she doesn't ask, she simply curls up closer to him trying to provide some small comfort. It could be because she knows no words will do, he won't accept pleasantries and reassurances. If you push memories deep down, one day they'll have to surface and he knows the bad ones will always rise up time after time, night after night, with only brief respite. It's the price for not forgetting and he can't bring himself to do that, won't forgive himself either in case maybe he starts to, with faces becoming fuzzier and names slipping past his mind's grasp. He feels he owes them all more than he owes himself a decent night's sleep. He at least gets to sleep, gets to feel the fear of waking up. They won't ever wake up again.
Sometimes he thinks that it's a punishment for failure, that out there in another universe there's a John Sheppard who isn't this screwed up because he succeeded. The thought haunts him on the nights where he's alone and uncharacteristically prone to pessimism. Other times, especially those when he feels Kate at his side, sees her smiling sweetly in her sleep, he wonders if it's just a trade off in life, good for bad or nothing at all. When she wakes up, he usually drops the question because at that point it seems like maybe it doesn't really matter because nothing is magically changed, this is what he has and who he is.